Page 75 of Last Shot

She’dtoldhim. What was wrong with her? The doors shuddered open against her sweaty-palmed plea for freedom, belching her out into the cold, unforgiving wind. She heaved against the balcony, letting her hair fall over the edge, while the bricks caught her hips hard, begging her to stay upright. What an exhilarating feeling it would be though – to just let go ...

Something tackled her away from the edge.

She clawed at the railings, screaming, ‘Let me go!’

He squeezed tighter, dragging her back to the doors and pinning her against the glass.

‘What the fuck, Greyson!’

‘You were going to jump.’ There was something wrong with his voice. He was breathing like her heart was beating – rapid, manic – and his eyes were bloodshot. He was looking at her like he had in the cellar – like he was somewhere else, while right against her.

‘I wasn’t going to jump, you— What are you doing?’ She tried to claw away again but stopped. His eyes were wide and terrified. What she would have given a mere five minutes ago to see this uncontrolled look on his face ... But this wasn’t what she wanted. He looked haunted.She wasn’t even sure he knew he was still pressing her against the doors, that she could feel his hip bone in her stomach, her chin on his bicep. Every shallow breath moved her – he was an ocean rip, pulsing her out to sea and she couldn’t swim against him.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

‘Greyson? I wasn’t going to jump. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—’

‘You were ... I wasn’t fast enough ...’

‘What do you mean? I’m right here. Hey!’ She tapped his cheek, just a graze. But she felt the same rough sparks shoot through her as when he’d brushed her scar. ‘Greyson, hey ...hey! Look at me.’ She put her hands against the hollows of his jaw, her hands ice compared to the burning surface of him. Pluto and Venus. Gently, she tilted his head down, expecting him to fight and buck away from her. But to her surprise, he let her drag his gaze down, his eyes still clouded with whatever memory kept resurfacing at moments like this.

I wasn’t fast enough.

This was worse than the cellar – he was wilder. An eagle who’d never been tamed. She was terrified he was going to take flight and she’d never see him again.

‘Look.’ She kept her hands on his face and forced his eyes to meet hers. ‘Look, I’m here. I didn’t fall. I’m right here.’

His breathing didn’t slow, but some of the clouds began to clear in his eyes as he blinked tentatively over her body.

‘Here, feel.’ She guided his left hand down her face, over her scar again, trying to ignore the electrical circuits buzzing inside her. She dragged his hand down her neck, over her throat, let his fingers splay across her collarbone.

He shuddered – that must mean he was cooling down. It was working, she was bringing him back.

‘I’m here,’ she whispered against his chest. She let go of his hands; they were doing their own reassuring. They grazed her shoulder blades, down her spine as though counting every vertebra. Then they moved slowly down.

‘Fuck.’ He pushed away. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m so—’

‘It’s okay.’ But what she really wanted to say, what she really couldn’t say, wasDon’t stop. Suspend time. Forget who I am. Forget who you are. Forget how we met and what we still have to do. Just pretend we’re two people standing outside on a cold winter night who’ve just confessed things to each other that they’ll never be able to take back.

But she couldn’t ask him to do that.

He let out a shaky sigh. ‘I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking right now.’

‘I think ...’I think I don’t want you to let me go.It had been so long since she’d been held. If only it wasn’t by a man who hated her.

‘You didn’t deserve that,’ he said quietly.

She wasn’t sure if he meant what happened with Jackie and Evan and the court case, or what his hands had done. If it was the latter, he was right – she really didn’t deserve that. Someone like Antonella Barbarani deserved that.

‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘why you thought I was going to jump. Why you held me like that in the cellar. I know you don’t think it’s PTSD, but there’s obviously something—’

‘I killed someone.’ He’d let go but was still standing just as close. She felt like a magnet, her whole body shaking with the base desire to connect. She’d been wrong, Alexandra had been wrong, prisonhaddriven her to the edge. She knew better than to respond. Her eyes found his again, pulling him down, into her.It’s okay, you can tell me.

‘It was the same party where Luca punched Forrest. A kid jumped. I caught him.’ Grey’s eyes drifted to the edge of the balcony.

‘How can you have killed him then?’

‘I couldn’t hold on. I ...’ The muscles in his face twitched against the memory like it was burrowing towards the surface of his skin, trying to pierce the outer layer and consume him completely.

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