I needto do something.
I can’t just fucking watch her fall.
Doing something equally reckless, I adjust the stunt in the midst of it, hopping off the edge of the rooftop and hanging on with one arm. I attempt to close the distance between Clover and I, trying to get my hand closer to hers in order to grab her and prevent her from falling. It almost works; I feel her fingertips ghost across mine with the gentlest touch before she begins plummeting toward the ground.
She doesn’t bother to scream as she falls. Instead, silence fills the air for what must be only a second or two before I hear the sickening thud of her hitting something. Time seems to speed up, and I look down, desperate to see where she landed. Her body is in a crumpled ball on the mat below the gap.
“Clover!” I shout down to her, but she doesn’t stir. I rack my brain for a moment trying to figure out what on earth would’ve made the loud noise when she landed. Her body is on the mat, and normally a mat landing isn’t that loud.
“Medic!” I shout, and that sends the crew into a flurry. Arnold runs toward Clover, Tanya on his heels, and both of them wear matching expressions of concern.
Fuck… this can’t be good.
Chapter Fifty
ROMAN
The set springs to life. A medic runs over from the sidelines, and like moths drawn to a flame, a group of onlookers forms. The idea of them all trying to get a glimpse at Clover and see what’s wrong sends a wave of fury roaring through my veins. They have no right to see her like that, and they need to back off.
Pulling myself up, I realize that going around and down the stairs on the back side of the rooftop set piece will take longer than I care to spend, so I decide to drop the fifteen feet down to the mat to get to Clover quicker. Taking care to make sure I don’t land too close to her or the small cluster of people gathering around, I drop to the ground quickly with the mat taking the brunt of the impact from my landing. That only adds to the dropping sensation in my stomach. There’s no way her landing should’ve been as loud as it was. She must’ve hit something else.
“Move,” I order to anyone getting between me and Clover. When they’re slow to respond, I forgo the niceties and simply push the people inmy way to get closer. The medic hunches over her and whispers in her ear.
Tanya is pissed, and Arnold looks like he’s going to be sick.
Not knowing what to do but feeling compelled to get closer to her, I kneel beside her. She is so vulnerable right now, and I hate it. The Clover I’ve come to know is normally so strong and infallible, and now here she is on the floor. I place my hand on her back, and I’m relieved to feel the calming steadiness of her breathing.
The medic mutters something to Arnold and Tanya, but I’m transfixed as I see Clover’s eyelids flutter. Relief floods my system to see her coming back to consciousness relatively quickly. She groans, and her limbs begin to slowly move as she tries to push herself into a sitting position. As soon as she’s up a little more, I wince seeing the blood on the medic’s hand as he pulls it away from her. I feel sick to my stomach; her head must’ve hit the side of the building when she landed.
The medic is talking to her, and I realize I am not processing any of the surrounding sounds, all I can hear is the whooshing of blood in my ears.
She could have been hurt badly.
This could’ve ended so much worse.
What the fuck happened?
It’s an effort to bite down on my tongue and keep the last thought from spilling out. She should’ve abandoned the stunt as soon as she knew it wasn’t going to work. Not gone ahead anyway.
Arnold offers his arm to help a shaken Clover up off the ground. I look at where her hand wraps around his bicep, and something about it makes the red I’m already seeing go even more vibrant.
“Shooting’s canceled for the restof the day,” Arnold shouts to the rest of the crew. “Stay tuned to your emails and we’ll provide an update later in the day about whether tomorrow goes ahead and if there are any schedule changes that need to be made.”
The medic hands Clover an icepack and launches into a series of additional questions while shining a flashlight in her eyes.
“I’m going to close up that cut here, and I recommend a few days off. You don’t seem to be concussed, but I think it’s best if you have someone monitor you for symptoms in case they appear.” He pulls some items out of his large red bag and works on the cut hiding in Clover’s scalp.
Arnold nods along like it’s his personal responsibility to ensure her safety. “Clover, do you have someone who can monitor these symptoms for you at h–”
“Yes, she does,” I cut in. Everyone’s gaze whips in my direction. Clover’s eyes look like they’re ready to bug out of her skull at a second’s notice.
“Roman, are you–” Arnold starts.
“She’s staying at my place,” I growl. My tone leaves no room for anyone else to offer assistance. Some part of me feels the need to watch over her and make sure she’s okay.
“I don’t think–” Arnold tries again. He knows we’ve been faking our relationship this whole time, but what he doesn’t know is how things have progressed on the Napa trip.
I give him a look that tells him to shut the fuck up, and just in case he hasn’t clued in, I add, “I’ve got her.” I look down at the sparky redhead, who looks exhausted, and frankly a little scared. My stomach drops when I see that expression on her face. She must be absolutely terrified after taking such a big tumble today.
