“You won’t be able to look down,” Nolan said. “You won’t be able to see anything at all.”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “You’re going to blindfold me?”
Nolan nodded once.
“How am I . . . who’s going to . . . I don’t think I can . . . “
“I’ll lead you to the other side,” Logan said, his voice ringing clear in the silence.
“You expect me to believe that you’re going to get me to the other side unscathed? While I’m blindfolded?”
“I do.”
“And why would I believe that?”
“Because I’m telling you I will.”
“What if I asked you to take my place in this drill? Would you trust me to lead you while you’re blindfolded?”
“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate, but he had to be bluffing.
“Have you done this?” I asked, and he nodded. A part of me—a really stupid part of me—didn’t want to ask who he trusted enough to lead him to the other side, but I had to ask anyway. “Who got you through your drill?”
“Your brother.”
I took a step back. I had not been expecting that.
“Are you doing it or not?” That came from one of the other guys.
They all looked so damn sure that I’d hightail out of there. It was probably the only reason I stepped forward with a nod. I was doing it. I looked at Logan. He didn’t look any more impressed by my confirmation than anyone else did. He looked bored. As he walked over to me with the blindfold in his hand, his expression was all business. He put it over my head and placed it on my forehead, his eyes on mine.
“You’re going to get the urge to reach up and snatch it off. Don’t.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can. I’ll be on the other side guiding you.”
I looked behind him, at the trap on the ground that looked like a serial killer’s idea of a good time. When my gaze met his again, I saw concern in his. I thought he was going to talk me off the ledge, or reassure me that I would be great at this. Instead, he tapped my head and started walking away.
“She’s ready.”
I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t, but closed it again. They explained the object of the game again: get to the other side with my partner’s help. Rely solely on him, without giving in to the urge to yank the blindfold off. The area was quite small and without the blades, I could get there in four or five steps. With the blades there, it wasn’t simple at all. Without relying on my own sight, it seemed impossible.
“We’re going to do this in counts. Like this—” He picked up his right leg and moved it slightly without setting it down. “This is one count.” He moved the same leg a little further out. “This is two counts. We’ll do it like that—one count, two counts, two counts, one count,” he said as he demonstrated. “You understand?”
“Do I understand that you want me to die tonight?” I nodded. “Yep. Crystal clear.”
He rolled his eyes. The rest of the guys chuckled before going silent.
“Take one step forward,” he said.
I did. I wasn’t in the actual square yet, but my palms were already sweating and my knees were already shaking.
“Set the blindfold over your eyes,” he said. I held his gaze as I shakily lifted my hands to the blindfold, holding it at my forehead for a beat. “Come on, Amelia. You can do this.”
It was his deep voice that coaxed me into doing it. Once it was over my eyes, I couldn’t see anything at all. I looked around, toward where I thought the light was, and I could definitely see brightness behind the blindfold, but nothing beyond that.
“Look at me,” Logan said.
My head instantly snapped in his direction. “I can’t see anything.”
“It’s okay. You can do this,” he repeated. “Pick up your left foot and step forward.”
My blood pumped wildly as I did as he instructed. I took a deep breath, then another one, trying as best I could to calm down.
“Listen to me, Amelia. My voice. Only my voice.”
Under any other circumstance, like Spin the Bottle or Seven minutes in heaven, I would absolutely be okay with closing my eyes and having him talk to me. While standing in the middle of knives though, wearing a ridiculous helmet over my head? Not so much.
“Pick up your right foot, remember the counts? One count forward, one count to the right. Pay attention. This is important.”
I whimpered, my body shaking as I lifted my foot and did as I was told. Once it was on the ground, and I didn’t feel a knife on it, I let out a breath.
“Left foot, one count forward, one count left.”
I did as I was told, my foot shaky as I set it down. I whimpered, my lip trembling.
“I don’t think I can do this.” My teeth clattered. “I don’t think I can do—”
“Well, now you really are surrounded by blades, so you have to.”
I shook my head quickly. “I can’t.”
“Listen to my voice,” he said. “I vouched for you. You have to finish.”
“I didn’t ask you to vouch for me,” I shouted, because it was the only thing I could do.
“Yet I did.”
“Why?” I shook.
“Because I believe in you.”
“You don’t even know me.” I took a deep breath. “You don’t even like me.”
“This isn’t about me. This is about you. Do you believe in yourself? Do you like yourself?” He paused. “Matter of fact, how much do you like your toes? You’re about to slice one open if you don’t follow my instructions.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Left foot forward. One count.”
My heart pounded as I did it.
“Pick up your right foot and move it two counts left. I’ll count. Ready?”
“No.” I bit down on my lip.
“Pick up your foot,” he instructed. I did. “One count left. Good. One more. Good. Now drop it.”
I bit down harder on my lip. He could’ve very well been telling me to drop my foot right on a blade. Maybe that had been the challenge all along—get Amelia to slice a blade through her foot.
“Drop it,” he said again. “If you move in any other direction, you’re fucked.”
“What if you’re lying?” I screamed, tears wetting my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized I was crying until I tasted the salt on my lips. “What if this whole thing is designed for me to end up with no foot?”
“I’m impressed you’re able to hold that position for so long,” he said. “Yoga much?”
My chest shuttered with a sob. My left leg wasn’t tired yet, but it would be. I could hold this position well enough on a yoga mat or a dance floor, but out here in the slick grass, it was completely different. Thunder sounded above us. It had been forecast to rain tonight. Was that why they were making this my challenge? Because they wanted me to be a sopping, crying mess? Instead of dropping my foot, I brought it up against my left leg in a tree pose.
“This is about trust, Amelia.” Logan’s voice rang out in the darkness. I focused on him again. “This is about trust.”