Total death.
CHAPTER 3
Jordy
Clay’s fingersbit into my wrist hard enough to bruise as he desperately held onto me. I could see his arms shaking from the strain of holding my weight. There was no way he was going to be able to pull me up onto the safety of the roof.
“Clay,” I said again when I felt his grip slide a bit on my wrist. “It’s okay. You can let go.”
“Fuck off,” Clay spat out through gritted teeth. “I’m not... will you fucking help me!”
I jerked in surprise when he suddenly shouted, nearly pulling myself free from Clay’s grip by accident.
At first, I thought he was talking to me, demanding that I do something, but what could I do?
My feet scraped against the wall, unable to find anything to brace against, and I was too far from the top of the roof for my other hand to reach.
From out of nowhere, a second pair of hands suddenly grabbed onto my arm. These hands were bigger than Clay’s, gripping all the way around my forearm. Someone else hadjoined Clay, though I couldn’t see who it was as my face was mostly pressed against the wall.
Clay and the other person worked together to haul me back over the edge of the roof, their hands grabbing at my shoulders, my waist, anywhere they could reach. It was the first time in my life I didn’t mind being pawed at, and I gasped in relief when my feet finally touched something solid.
My whole body shook with adrenaline. I had no hope of supporting my own weight and sunk to my knees the second I was safe. For one crazy moment, I was struck with the urge to kiss the concrete floor of the roof, but then I remembered how dirty it was, and the urge faded.
It took me a minute to catch my breath. It felt like I’d run a marathon, though it had probably been less than five minutes since I came up to the roof.
As Clay and the other man waited for me to recover, a whispered conversation passed between them.
“Did you catch whoever pushed him off?”
“No. They were already halfway down the fire escape before we got here. I barely even got a look at their face. At this point, I couldn’t even tell you if it was a man or a woman.”
Great. So, I hadn’t imagined the shove I felt against my back. Someone actually tried to kill me just now.
When I could finally see straight again, and I no longer felt like I was going to throw up, I looked up into the face of my saviors. Clay knelt next to me with a concerned hand on my shoulders, while beside him stood another man I recognized.
“Lo—” My voice cracked, and I had to cough several times before trying again.
“Logan Hollingsworth. What are you doing here?” I looked toward Clay. “What are either of you doing here?”
With a sympathetic smile, Clay helped me to my feet. “We’re here for you.”
Fuck, the man was pretty. I didn’t personally find him attractive—I’d never actually found anyone attractive, which my therapists said was normal for someone in my situation—but I could appreciate beauty when I saw it. Even scuffed up, with a smudge of dirt on his cheek, Clay glowed with health and vitality.
The little green-eyed monster of jealousy gnawed at my heart again, which I furiously ignored.
“Me? For me? You’re here for me?” I shook my head. “Why are you here for me?”
I must have sounded like an idiot repeating myself so many times like that, but if there was ever a time that sounding like an idiot was appropriate, it was now. I’d just nearly died. Give me a break.
Clay and Logan shared a look, communicating without saying a word. I wasn’t sure how long the two of them had been together, but it must have been a while for them to have developed such instinctual communication.
With a slight nod, Logan took over the conversation for the both of them.
“Have you been keeping track of the bell ringer case?”
That name again.
Why was that name coming up so many times today?
