“Not if you know how to dive. I’d be fine. But—” she sent me a side eye “—if I tried, you’d probably try something heroic like savin’ me.”
I arched an eyebrow, trying to think a step ahead of her. “Hafta.”
I was finally close enough to catch her by the arm if she tried to pull a fast one.
“Can I ask a question?” I leaned close, forcing her gaze on mine.
“As long as it’s notWhy would a pretty girl like you want to kill herself?” She took a few steps to gain some distance, eyes on the rushing current again.
“Well, pardon me if that’s the only thing on my mind. So?”
“So? You can be more creative than that.” She was moving closer to the center of the bridge now.
“Fine. Doesn’t the finality of it scare you?”
“What?” Warm walnut eyes hovered on mine.
“Y’know, killin’ yourself. It’s so final. What if you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? Happens to me all the time. I don’t think about killin’ myself, though. If anything, I just stay in bed and play guitar all day, take a time-out.”
“So…” She crossed her arms, tilting her head to one side, “You’re questioning my decision-making?”
I nodded. “You’re about the saddest lookin’ girl I’ve ever seen, so absolutely.”
She furrowed her forehead, locking her fists on the rusted railings of the old bridge. “Well, my mind’s made up. I appreciate your efforts at—”
“Saving your life?” I interjected.
“Right. That.” The tip of one flip-flop hung out on the lowest rung now. “But there’s a lot you’re not privy to, and I’d really appreciate it if you could just carry on with your day and leave me to mine.” Both feet on the lowest rung now. Shit, she was really going to do it.
“I’m Fallon.” I jumped across the space that separated us and thrust out my hand.
She arched one quizzical eyebrow before nodding. “Augusta Belle Branson, nice to meet you.”
She smiled once, and in the next blink, she disappeared.
“Fuck,” I grumbled under my breath. “Know your name. Have to save you now.”
I kicked off my heavy boots, knowin’ they’d weigh me down, then gripped the railing and hurled myself over after her.
The trip to the muddy water below wasn’t as far as I’d made it out to be, and I was in the slow-moving current within seconds. I bobbed out of the water, hands moving to feel for any human body under the murky depths around me.
“Augusta!” I called, swimming a few strokes to the cement pilings that held the bridge above the river. Shit, maybe she’d hit her head or broken a leg when she’d fallen against a boulder hidden by the current.
I pushed the water out of my face, squinting against the bright rays of summer sunshine that tried to blind me. Nothing about this day was going to end well, and I’d already woken up with a splitting headache after the hell Dad had put all of us through last night.
The memory of words likeuselessandno-goodnot exactly the thing I wanted to be thinkin’ about in my last moments.
“Augusta Belle Branson, if I find you, and there’s a breath left in your body—”
“Are you threatening the victim now?” That honeyed twang warmed my insides.
I spun in the water, seeing her crawl up the bank, cotton clinging to her skinny legs.
Jesus, soakin’ wet and she couldn’t have been more than an even hundred pounds. And she was younger than I’d thought. What kind of shit had driven her here?
I swam to the shoreline, grabbing one of the limestone edges and heaving myself onto the warm stone. “Mind if I ask what the fuck that was about?”
A wry grin curved her lips as she avoided my eyes.
