Page 8 of The Heartbreak List

She sobs, shaking her head agitatedly. “I’m not going to jump.”

“Well, Indy, that would be a lot easier to believe if you’d come down from there.” I reach out and wrap a hand around her upper arm, but she has such a hold on the railing that she doesn’t budge. Ripping her away from it would hurt her, but I’m inclined to do it anyway. If it becomes necessary. At least I have a grip on her. I’m not so freaked out that she could easily disappear from my sight and over the edge.

“You don’t need to hold onto me.” She turns her head enough that I can see the angle of her profile and the tears staining her cheek. “I needed to be alone. To think.”

It’s been a couple of weeks, but I haven’t forgotten her face. Even if I was high on winning and E at the time. I’d been as close to at peace as I could get when she set her whiskey colored gaze on me. When she’d held her breath for far longer than most people can. She’d been sexy in white too. Getting married. What happened between then and now for her to end up on this rooftop?

I swallow around the sudden burst of emotion that fills my throat. It’s like a clog that grows and grows and grows around me, changing into quicksand that will drag me under if I let it. The urge to swig from the bottle of Jameson I handed off to the groupie is almost enough for me to leave the girl on the ledge. And I can’t do that, so I shove my own issues aside. There’ll be plenty of time to numb them later since they’re never fucking far from the surface.

“You should leave,” I tell the brunette who continues to hover.

The groupie tilts her head to the side. “What?”

“You heard my new friend. She wants to be alone. That means you gotta go.” I can only focus on the girl on the ledge. She can yell at me or hit me. Whatever she needs to do. Until I’m sure she’s safe.

The brunette pouts. “But I thought we were going to—"

“Fuck off,” I growl at her.

“Fuck you,” she screams back and then marches into the building, taking my Jameson with her.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Damn it, she could have left the booze. I honestly don’t give a fuck about some groupie who wants to fuck because she gets off on the fact that I flattened some guy earlier. Watching us beat the crap out of each other in the cage is an aphrodisiac to girls like her. And they’re a dime a dozen. All it would take is marching back inside to find the next one.

I exhale to clear the tension that’s settled in my muscles. The girl on the ledge is nothing like those girls. She’s the kind of girl who needs more. She’s the kind of girl who takes a guy’s entire fucking heart and becomes his entire fucking world, so much so that he slides a rock on her finger and promises her forever. Only to find out that loving her forever doesn’t include having her in his life. “If you’re not planning on jumping, perhaps you could put me at ease and step down from there?”

“I told you I wanted to be alone,” she says.

“Okay, time to get down.” I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her off her feet.

“Put me down.” She struggles against my grip as I haul her a few feet from the edge before letting her toes touch the roof proper. Bursting out of my arms, she whirls on me. Her finger jabs my chest before her eyes widen. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” I stay still now that she’s down. I don’t need to hold onto her. I could tackle her before she made it to the railing again.

“You’re the guy from the bathroom. The eyes.”

“And you’re the bride.” Is she still the bride? Or are we on the rooftop because some asshole broke her heart? Point me at the guy; he and I need to have a few words about how the hell she ended up here alone. I push my hands into the pockets of my jeans to stop from making fists. “Or did he hurt you?”

“Gray could never hurt me.” Her face slackens and her hand drops to her side. She shoots another longing glance at the skyline. “I wanted to imagine what it would be like.”

“Okay, that’s—”

“I wanted to pretend that I was in control. I wasn’t going to jump.” She turns those dark amber eyes on me again.

She seems so tiny in the suit jacket she holds tightly around her body. Her cheeks are hollowed. She’s lost more weight than is healthy in the time since we last collided. The sparkle of happiness that had surrounded her that night is gone.

“I’m still getting married.” She reaches up to push her hair out of her face and the jacket sleeve falls, revealing that ring still on her finger. It’s simple and delicate.

“Good… right?” That means she’s not heartbroken, at least. Not wondering how to go on without the love of her life, knowing that every single day is going to be spent pointlessly trying to keep from suffocating in quicksand. And then drowning in booze and pills and adrenaline to keep the ache at bay.

“It’s supposed to be.” She moves toward the edge again, and I grab her arm before she gets too far. Looking up at me, she sighs. “I’m going to collect my shoes.”

“I’ll get them.” I leave her standing there while I snag her shoes, then draw her over to a picnic table someone brought up here. “Sit.”

She takes a seat on the tabletop. I hand her the shoes before collecting my jacket from the doorway and making sure the brick is still stopping it from latching. Shrugging on the leather, I go back to her. “It isn’t good?”

“Gray loves me.” She bows her head and stares down at her lap. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“I…” scratch my jaw. A few days’ growth pricks my fingers. I need to shave. “And you love… Gray?”

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