I blink against the tears threatening to spill over, the metallic taste of blood thick in my mouth. I bit my lip, or maybe my cheek. I find Colt’s number, dial, and press the phone to my ear but, as the first ring echoes, the bridge swings under Grant’s weight as he steps onto the first plank.
“No!” I scream, and the phone slips from my grasp. “Don’t come closer!”
“Okay, okay, calm down. I’m here, pumpkin. I’ll help,” Grant says, soft and pleading, as he drops to his knees at the edge of the bridge. “Come here, you can do it...” He pulls his phone out, switching the flashlight on and making me realize the sun has officially set.
TWENTY-SIX
Colt
BY THE TIME HENRY ANDIreach the cliff, it’s dark outside. We’re tearing through trees, guided by voices from the west.
“Come on, pumpkin, you can do it. It’s not that far,” Grant coaxes, his tone chilling me to the bone.
I can’t see them, but he sounds so fucking scared my throat tightens.
“No!” Addie yelps, her voice echoing through the dense forest. “Don’t get on the bridge! It’ll snap!”
“It’ll be fine, I promise. You need to calm down. I’ll come and get you, just don’t—”
“Shut up! Shut up!”
Henry and I break into a sprint as we cross the tree line. We emerge on top of the hill, the bridge looming in the distance. There are people on both sides, everyone using the flashlights on their phones to illuminate Addie.
She sits halfway across, clinging to the ropes, her cheeks wet with tears, body shaking so hard it swings the bridge. The motion only freaks her out more.
Grant’s on the other side, down on his knees as he beckons Addie over. He inches closer, poised to get her, but Addie screams again, panic seizing her mind.
“Donotget on the bridge!” I can hear she’s trying to hold onto control, but her voice cracks so much it’s obvious she’s failing.
She’s too frightened to think clearly. Her cheeks are white like dough, eyes big. The bridge isn’t long. Thirty, maybe forty feet across, the drop about fifty.
Olympic divers jump from thirty-three feet. It’s doable, but I doubt Addie’s in the right mind to think about body positioning in case anything goes wrong.
“Get the helicopter, you knobhead!” she wails, jerking her hand at Grant. The sudden movement swings the bridge harder. A bone-chilling shriek breaks from her chest, the sound ripping me wide fucking open. She clings to the ropes, eyes squeezed tight. “It’s your fault I’m here!”
“Oh please, darling, stop making such a scene,” her mother says.
Grant swings her way. I can’t see his face in the dark, but his tone proves that, in this moment, we’re on the same page.
“You’re not helping, Victoria. Can’t you see she’s scared?” A beam of light from someone’s phone catches him as he turns back to Addie, his mouth parted in shock, face paler than fucking pale. “Come on, pumpkin, it’s not that far. Just don’t look down. You can do it, I promise. You’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t sound like he believes what he’s saying. Coaxing and begging won’t get her moving. Grant’s tone doesn’t evoke any sense of safety or trust.
He sounds as panicked as she is. He’s confirming her fears, making it clear the bridge isn’t safe and she’s stuck.
No wonder Addie doesn’t trust him to keep her safe.
“Addie!” Henry booms, overtaking me. “Hold on! I’ll get you off there!”
“No!” she screams, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Don’t get on the bridge!”
I catch up when he’s two steps away from barreling onto the flimsy planks and yank him back by the collar of his shirt, almost knocking him ass-first to the ground.
“I’m sorry, but...” I point at a plaque nailed to the wooden pole supporting the bridge.“It says one person at a time. The ropes might not hold both of you.”
I don’t mention that, by the look of things, this bridge hasn’t been used in years. The greenery surrounding the cliff is undisturbed, no trace of footprints or worn paths on either side.
Henry straightens his shirt, dread welling in his eyes. I pinch my lips, the distressed whimpers coming from Addie driving me half fucking insane.
