Saturday Snippet #saturdaysnippet
Posted on May 21st, 2016

Here's a sneak peek of yet another work-in-progress (I'm working on two at the moment because I have Author's ADHD). This is an untitled New Adult romance that's nearly finished. Yay! :)
______________________________________
Flurries start to swirl, prompting me to walk a little faster. I’m just making my way across the Hart Street Bridge when something catches my eye. A man’s standing next to the concrete barrier, looking down into the frigid water below.

I stop.

Without a backwards glance, he places one leg over the edge.

My heart pounds in my chest. “No!”

His head jerks up, and there, under the lights of the city, my eyes lock with the man who left his watch on my diner counter.

I’m paralyzed.

So is he.

Thank God.

People keep walking. Cars keep moving. But my eyes remain fixed on the man straddling the concrete barrier—the only thing that’s keeping him from plunging into the icy river below us. I don’t know his name. I don’t know why he’s dressed like a beggar, and I certainly don’t know why he left his Rolex on my counter.

But in this moment, none of that matters.

I make sure the street is clear before walking across, keeping my movements slow as I approach him. The last thing I want to do is freak him out. For now, one leg is still on this side of the barrier, giving me hope that maybe he doesn’t really want to die tonight. Needing the support it provides, I hold on to the cold concrete and pray I say the right thing.

“What are you—?”

“Leave me alone, Carrie.”

The fact that he’s coherent enough to remember my name gives me even more hope. But his voice . . . it’s raw and tinged with so much sadness that it nearly breaks my heart.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s none of your business. Go away.”

“No.”

His eyes flash with anger.

“Screw you.”

“Don’t jump and maybe I’ll let you.”

It’s a ridiculous thing to say, but I’m desperate. He’d never survive the fall, and I already have enough guilt in my heart to last a lifetime. I don’t need this on my conscience, too.

The man blinks rapidly, as if he’s trying to comprehend what I said.

“Tempting, but trust me. I’m not worth saving.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Believe it,” he whispers. “Please, Carrie. Just . . . go.”

I shake my head and take a step closer.

Keep him talking.

“I don’t even know your name. You know mine. That’s not fair.”

He looks surprised. “You don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?”

“Wow. That’s . . . refreshing, actually.”

I glance around. Surely someone has noticed us and called the cops by now. But I don’t hear sirens, so I keep talking, hoping the man will come to his senses.

I offer him my hand. “My name is Carrie Malone. What’s yours?”

“Josh Bennett.”

The name sounds vaguely familiar.

“Nice to meet you, Josh. Now, would you please place both legs on this side of the barrier before I have a heart attack?”

Josh looks down into the river.

“Please, Josh. Let me call your family.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“My family’s dead, which is exactly what I should be. What I want to be.”



© Sydney Logan 2016



Posted in not categorized    Tagged with no tags