I hop off the fence. “Give me your rope.” My brother arches an amused brow. “You sure?” I grit my teeth. “Give it to me.” Wyatt passes it over and I coil the rope up tightly, grabbing the smaller circle and threading it until I have a loop. Holding the coil in my left hand, I lift it overhead and swing it around and around until I find a smooth rhythm. Then, with Reese in my sights, I release the loop. Bullseye. A good clean catch. Wyatt cackles. I grin. Then, I cinch the rope looped around her torso. Reese screams. “Ford, you’re a fuckface,” Fallon says.
