Page 53 of Eternal Surrender

“Why?”

“You mentioned you’re a dancer?”

“Was.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Got hit by a car.” He’d spoken the words so matter-of-factly they sounded rehearsed, used up and almost comfortable. “Leaving a late-night rehearsal,” he continued, “Taking my usual route home through London.”

My thoughts encroached into his, and I was seeing his journey through his eyes, his bicycle whipping past houses and shops, navigating the busy roads down twisting lanes, slowing only to take the tight turns.

“It was raining,” I whispered, seeing the blur of the road.

“The car came out of nowhere.” Dazed, he was reliving the moment all over again. “The driver swerved, but. . .” He reached for his trouser leg and lifted it, revealing a gnarly-looking deformity to his lower right calf. “The only time I ever felt alive was when I was dancing.” He gave a small gesture as though emphasizing that was why he was here now.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“As you’ve already suggested, what’s the point?”

I already knew it was Sebastian.

“Why are you doing it?” he asked.

I came back to the moment, realizing he was still waiting for an answer. “I don’t even know if I have a soul.” The words tumbled out as though coming from a place deep within.

“Of course you do. I can see it in your eyes.” He glanced at the edge.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” My ill-timed grin quickly faded.

“I figured the drone of the bell would drown out my scream.”

I took a step toward him. “I don’t think you’re ready.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“I believe you’ll regret it.”

“Well by the time I reach the ground, it’ll be too late.” He sneezed.

“Careful,” I said.

The clock struck, and I covered my ears as the bell rang out, chiming it was half passed the hour.

Sebastian pressed his hands against his ears too, trying to block out the deafening clang. He lost his footing, tipping dangerously, his face twisted in terror, his arms flapping widely as he tumbled backward off the ledge.

Falling. . .

The decision came without ceremony. Made in less than time than it took to breathe.

Flying. . . I caught him mid-fall, my arms strong, and steady, holding him before the world could let him go.

Sebastian scooted backward on the pavement, moaning his terror as though still falling.

He froze.

Standing a few feet away, I was astonished that I’d actually caught him, and I squinted back up at Big Ben.

Sebastian became reanimated, caressing the ground, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He staggered to his feet, his eyes riddled with confusion, his mouth gaping.

“That was close.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.

His face froze and then tension rippled across his brow.