Page 4 of The Fall Risk

“I mean, it’s no different than stairs being there . . .”

“It would just really make me feel better.”

She peered up at me with soft brown eyes that I couldn’t say no to for some reason.

“Okay.”

She was too scared to get close enough to the edge to help me, so I ended up dragging it up myself, in my boot and all. Luckily, it was a lightweight one. Also luckily, I was in shape enough to do it. I can’t say that most people threw logs around for a living like I did.

“Why live on the second floor if you’re this scared of heights?” I asked, setting the ladder against the wall.

“It’s safer.”

“From what?”

She didn’t get to answer. Someone was making caw-caw bird noises from the ground. I leaned over to see Gabe standing down there, keening like an idiot.

“There you are,” he said. “Damn, you weren’t kidding about the stair thing—”

Charlotte popped her head out, and his eyes went wide. “Heeeelllo,” he said. “Who’s this?”

“This is Charlotte,” I said. “She lives in the other apartment.”

“Hi.” She waved.

“Hi.” He grinned up at her. “So what are you gonna do?” he asked. “How soon until they get the stairs back up?”

“Monday.”

“Monday? Shit.”

The sound of screeching tires turned us to a red Camero fishtailing around the corner into the parking lot. It came to a skidding stop under the carport. A young woman in black yoga pants and Doc Martens threw the door open, leaned into the back seat for something, and then bounded from the vehicle with a baseball bat.

She slid to a halt where the stairs used to be, panting. Charlotte looked over the ledge. “Izzy!”

“I’ve been calling!” the woman said. “You were supposed to meet me twenty minutes ago, you didn’t answer, and your location wasn’t moving, I thought you were . . . where the fuck are your stairs?!”

Charlotte blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I got distracted, I didn’t see my phone. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Izzy dropped the bat in the grass and leaned with her hands on her knees, catching her breath. After a few moments, she looked at Gabe. “Who are you?”

“I’m Gabe, who are you?”

“None of your business.” She straightened. “You’re okay?” she called up to her friend.

“Fine,” Charlotte said. “Some workers took the stairs out on accident. I can’t leave for a few days.”

“And who’s this?” she asked, pointing at me.

“Seth,” I said.

“Seth what.”

“Seth Gonzalas.”

“Okay, listen up, Seth Gonzalas. If anything happens to her, I’ll fucking kill you.”

I glanced at Charlotte. “Uh . . . okay?”