With both hands in the air, she had no way to steady herself and regain her balance. The heavy map case pulled her over the rail.
Chapter 13
Maurice could tell Amelie was revving up to do something when she yelled at him to throw the map case. From where he was standing, he could do nothing to help her. He figured once the map case left his hands, they’d shoot him.
What could one lone female do against two men, one of whom was pointing a loaded gun at her? She was going to get herself shot.
“Don’t do it,” he muttered as he cocked his arm. “Don’t do it.” However, as soon as he thrust the map case into the air, she did it.
Amelie kicked the guy reaching for the case so hard, he flew down the staircase, bulldozing the guy with the gun and sending him tumbling further. The gun flew into the air and fell, bouncing off the big bell on its way to the floor twenty feet below. All of this happened so fast that he didn’t know which way to look.
At the same time, the bells started ringing so loudly they reverberated off his eardrums.
In a flash of movement, Amelie turned, flung her hands in the air and caught the map case strap on her arm.
Just when Maurice thought she was safe, the map case bounced back, hitting her in the face, and she lost her balance and tipped over the rail.
“No!” Maurice didn’t hesitate, didn’t think. He ran across the beam and threw himself downward to the next lower beam. He reached his arms out and caught himself on the wooden joist, hitting it so hard that it knocked the air from his lungs and shot paint through his arms and chest.
He pulled himself up to straddle the brace and searched the floor far below for Amelie’s broken body, expecting the worst but praying for a miracle.
The crisscrossing beams, bells and cobwebs made it difficult to see the floor so far below. Where was she? His gut clenched.
If she died...
His pulse pounded hard through his veins like a bass drum against his ears. He couldn’t catch his breath.
“Not again,” he wheezed through constricted lungs. The scent of garlic and burning flesh filled his memories. His head spun, and his stomach roiled.
No. He couldn’t lose it.
Fuck no.
He couldn’t see her on the floor below, because she hadn’t fallen that far.
Forcing back the dizziness and muscling air back into his lungs, he pushed to his knees and shimmied across the beam, searching, scanning. She had to be close. She had to be alive.
He refused to accept any other option.
A moan sounded directly below him.
He flattened himself to the beam and leaned over.
Amelie lay sprawled across a wider junction of joists, face down...and moving.
“Amelie!” Maurice called out. “Amelie, sweetheart. Answer me.”
“Ugh,” she groaned.
“Babe, are you hurt?” He snorted. “Of course, you’re hurt. Can you tell if anything is broken? Can you move your fingers and toes?”
“I... can...move.” To prove it, she pushed her body up on her arms and cursed. “Please tell me you got the number of the truck that ran me over.”
“Don’t move,” Maurice called out.
“Couldn’t if I wanted to. Got nowhere to go.” She raised her arm. “Didn’t drop it. All I got to say is that Monet better be in here.” She lay back down on the junction.
“Amelie, talk to me,” Maurice said as he looked for a better way to get down. Unfortunately, from where he stood, there wasn’t much of a choice other than jumping. At least the beams Amelie was on came close to the spiral staircase.
