“Fine. Tell me a story,” she states.
“There’s a girl who trusts her partner so much, that she’s going to give him a lengthy kiss.”
“Ah, fiction,” she chuckles and I’m thankful for the sense of humor or sarcasm, whatever is shining through and keeping her steady.
“A little to the right,” I instruct as she inches over.
“We’re about halfway there.” I pray with every step she takes until we reach the end. “Slow down. The grating feels flimsier here.”
She does. When we finally step on the second platform, I remove her blindfold and tie it on the railing.
When I’m back on my feet, I tell Ivy, “Hard part is over.”
We’re on our way back, her in front of me. The journey is going by much faster as we reach the halfway point that seemed to take forever on the way out.
A scream pierces through the wind. “Ivy, help me. Please help me.”
“Mom?” She swings around, her voice hoarse, panicked. Her head whips as she searches around, her movements becoming frantic.
“It’s fake, Ivy. It’s not real.”
The cries for help continue, sounding like they’re coming from below us.
“That’s her. That’s her voice.” She goes to look over the side as I loop my arm around her waist.
“It’s not real. Listen to me. Hear my voice. They are using her to distract you. I swear to you she’s not here. Trust me, please.”
Ivy shoves against me, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Listen to me, Ivy. She’s not here. It’s fake.”
“But I know her voice.”
“It could be AI or someone who just sounds like her. They’ll do whatever they can to fuck with your mind. She’s gone, baby. And I need you to be here with me.” When I find out who came up with this challenge, I’m going to gut the motherfucker. They’re dead. Because with every shriek, Ivy falls further apart in my arms. I can’t do a fucking thing to help her. And it’s killing me.
“Shut the fucking thing off,” I yell, trying to keep a hold on her.
“They won’t. I can’t do this.” Her hands shove at mine, trying to get free.
The screaming from beneath us continues as she struggles to peer over the side. Her foot slips off the steel. I grab at her, reaching for whatever I can grip onto as she falls over the ledge. I’m on my stomach, holding her wrist with one hand as my other arm braces on a beam. When she looks up at me, her eyes are as hollow as the darkness below her.
Every bit of desperation I feel spills out as I yell, “Hold on.”
“Let me go,” she says, and I see the defeat in her face.
My hand clings to her as I grit out, “If you fall, I will jump. We both get off this fucking rig, or neither of us do. Understood?” Because if she doesn’t make it, then I don’t care if I step back on solid ground ever again. There is no such thing without her. I’ve known it since the moment she shattered my world.
“Luca, please,” she cries.
I don’t even want to think about what she’s pleading for. Because I still believe she wants me to let go. And that is the last thing that will ever happened. “We’re walking off this thing together. Don’t give up, Ivy.”
“Okay,” she sobs.
I take a deep breath, my fingers feeling like they’re slipping from her wrist. I know her right arm will be useless but right now, any grip I have on her is better than her falling.
“Grab on with both hands.” She does before I instruct her, “Don’t move.”
I adjust, wrapping my leg around a beam to brace us. Taking a deep breath, I pull her up enough with my left arm then hook my right arm under hers.
