Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

why you’re trusting your life to someone who can’t even
differentiate between a real and an imaginary threat?”
Adam swears under his breath.
I lock eyes with him and he tosses me his gun.
He shakes his head. Swears again. Clenches and
unclenches his fist. “It was just a drill.”
Warner actually laughs.
Adam glances at the door, the clock, my face. “We don’t
have much time.”
I’m holding Warner’s gun in my left hand and Adam’s gun
in my right and pointing them both at Warner’s forehead,
doing my best to ignore the eyes he’s drilling in my
direction. Adam uses his free hand to dig in his pockets for
something. He pulls out a pair of plastic zip ties and kicks
Warner onto his back just before binding his limbs together.
Warner’s boots and gloves have been discarded on the floor.
Adam keeps one boot pressed on his stomach.
“A million alarms are going to go off the minute we jump
through that window,” he tells me. “We’ll have to run, so we
can’t risk breaking our legs. We can’t jump.”
“So what do we do?”
He runs a hand through his hair and bites down on his
bottom lip and for one delirious moment all I want to do is
taste him. I force myself back into focus.
“I have rope,” he says. “We’ll have to climb down. And
fast.”
He sets to work pulling out a coil of cord attached to a
small clawlike anchor. I’d asked him a million times what on
earth he would need it for, why he would pack it in his
escape bag. He told me a person could never have too
much rope. Now, I almost want to laugh.
He turns to me. “I’m going to go down first so I can catch
you on the other side—”
Warner laughs loud, too loud. “You can’t catch her, you
fool.” He squirms in his plastic shackles. “She’s wearing
next to nothing. She’ll kill you and kill herself from the fall!”