Page 80 of Pirate

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her notice. Enhanced by the illumination of the headlights now shining through the rain on the bridge, she saw Pirate trying to run up to her. His right leg wasn’t moving exceedingly fast, almost like there was a delay in his step—but he was alive!

Elation filled her. At the same time she took a step towards him, she registered the horror on his face.

Like a movie put in slow motion, Sophia turned her head to the left in time to see Fletcher’s hand land on one of the deputies’ holstered guns. The three men were standing now, Fletcher still fighting them with all his might. As his hand landed on the gun, his eyes met hers and Sophia just knew.

Her bones turned to stone, a permanent fixture of shock and horror. Like a gargoyle unable to stop his descent off of a steeple’s roof.

She saw it all in perfect clarity. Pirate was too far away. She wasn’t even sure Superman could have reached her in time if he switched roles with Pirate. The gun was unhooked from the holster. It was raised into the air. Fletcher’s finger went to the trigger.

He pulled the trigger.

Sophia didn’t know much about guns, but she knew which end the bullet came out of—and it was aimed right at her.

Something moved. A shadow, a figment of her imagination, she wasn’t sure.

Suddenly there was a figure standing before her. Dressed all in black, she could only see the Caucasian skin of his neck and his black hair flowing loosely. His back hit her front like a bowling ball and she was the lone pin standing between him and a spare.

Sophia lost her balance, the weight of him knocking her backwards and the slickness of the wet pavement making her footing unstable. The back of her knee collided with the guardrail. Rushing water filled her vision out of the corner of her eye.

In the next second, both Sophia and the man who’d stood between her and a bullet toppled over the side of the bridge.

“No!”Pirate shouted.

He was too far away! Damn his leg, he was too far away! The deputies were wrestling with Fletcher in the glow of his headlights. Pirate saw him reach for the holstered gun and knew in that instance that he’d failed. Failed to protect her.

The laws of physics were not on his side. There was no way he was going to make it in time. He was going to watch as the love of his life was shot before his eyes.

Fletcher raised the gun. Pirate continued forward. Even knowing the odds, he couldn’t stop. Hehadto get to her in time. Failure was not an option. He couldn’t let her die! Not Sophia. She was too good, too pure, too much of a pain in his ass to die. He loved her heart, body, and soul—and he was going to have to watch her be shot right in front of him like some sick twisted broken record for the rest of his life. Knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’d failed her.

That gut wrench, heartbreaking, soul crushing fear broke him in indiscernible, indescribable ways.

This exact moment in time would permanently be etched into his brain to torment him for eternity.

There was no logical explanation for what happened next. As Pirate pushed forward, Fletcher pulled the trigger. The bullet crossed the ten-foot distance between Sophia and her murderer.

Then, as if Pirate had conjured him up out of pure desperation, Scar stepped in front of Sophia. The formerVia Daemoniaenforcer placed himself as a living shield before Sophia.

The bullet struck.

As if in proof that he was not an aberration, the momentum of the bullet thrust Scar backwards and into Sophia. She toppled, unbalanced in the rain and from the weight of a fully-grown man slamming into her. They wobbled, teetering on the precipice, and then tumbled over the rail.

“Nooooo!” Pirate was seconds too slow. If his arms were only longer, he might have been able to catch them.

Completely forgetting about the fight behind him, Pirate collided with the rail. His hands gripped it as if to keep himself from leaping off after them. All he saw for several seconds was a flood of rushing mountain water beneath him. No bobbing heads, no signs of flailing arms.

“Pirate!”

The feminine shout of his name was nearly drowned out by the roar of motorcycles rising up like a pack of lions raining vengeance upon the night.

Pirate changed his angle, looking immediately down instead of outwards towards the water below. Dangling precariously by fingertips white with strain were Scar and Sophia.

Scar had one hand on the edge of the bridge while the other held Sophia’s two hands as she swung freely in open air. Her legs flailed as if she was swimming and trying to kick herself up to the surface. The pain on Scar’s face was doubly intense because Pirate was pretty sure it was the first time he’d ever seen an emotion cross the other man’s features.

But even through the pain, the man was still utterly silent.

Tires skidding to a halt on wet asphalt met his ears as Pirate carefully stepped over the guardrail. There was a small lip, barely wide enough for his boot to fit on between the bridge and a very wet landing. Slowly, carefully, Pirate sank down until his knees just barely touched the bridge. He kept one hand wrapped around the guardrail as he lowered the other down towards Scar and Sophia.

His heart thundered in his chest.

---