Page 109 of Stolen Kisses
Fuck I watched him go up, but there was no fucking way I was going to allow him to just get away like that. I jumped too and grabbed onto him. The weight of the two of us caused the helicopter to dip and it couldn’t quite take off properly.
“Get off of me.” Elliot wailed trying to shuffle me off him.
“You fucker!” I punched him hard.
We were about ten feet off the ground. The helicopter had kind of balanced itself, but us fighting on the left side was definitely a problem. I could see that the pilot was hesitant to take off.
“Go! Fuckin go.” I heard Barabbas shout. “We’ll get rid of them on the way.”
Yes, I was sure that would happen indeed and even more certain when the helicopter moved forward to go.
I had about five seconds before I’d be looking down at the expanse of the city below and more than likely fall to my death.
Fall to my death and that would be it.
Elliot punched me in my face and I slipped, but grabbed on to his waist tighter.
Seeing the last of the helipad I balled my fists and punched him hard in his stomach, right where I’d shot him. The impact was such that he lost his grip on the landing skid and we dipped.
One more punch in the wound did it. He screamed and let go of the skid and we both went falling just as we were about to leave the last few inches of the pad.
I let go of him and used the momentum to propel myself forward so I could grab onto the rail. I was a fucking daredevil. I knew how my body worked and what limits I could push it to. How to defy gravity, or work with it. I did it with my bikes all the time.
So, when I fell and gravity took me I had my hand out ready for the rail. I grabbed it and gripped on tight slowing myself from going over the side.
Elliot on the other hand screamed as he flew past me.
All I heard was the scream and as I practically hung from the side of the rail on the building I watched him go down, all the way down.
Falling.
Falling to his death.
Falling a good fifty feet down.
He landed on the ground. From up here he looked like an ant.
As I looked down at my Christina’s murderer, images of her flooded my mind.
I remembered when she was born. I actually remembered it.
Pa had made me promise to take care of her. To always care for my baby sister.
He made me promise again on his death bed.
I recalled images of my beautiful sister as she grew up. I loved her so much.
Elliot’s death didn’t bring her back, but somehow, I felt peace. Peace and something lift off my shoulders from the years of not knowing who killed her.
I turned away from the gruesome sight of Elliot’s body down below me and climbed back up to safety.
I looked on ahead. In the night sky I could just about see the helicopter with Barabbas getting away.
It was fine. There was always next time.
Always next time.
“Dante,” Number Two’s voice filled my ear again.
