Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [113]
A guttural shout, then a splash. And then, it was quiet. Nothing but the distant sirens getting louder and the sound of my own ragged breathing as I lay motionless on the frozen rocks where I had fallen. Where I was now alone.
Chapter 21
I felt the ripping in my heart, like whatever stitches had tenuously held it together were slowly being picked apart, one by one, as it dawned on me what had just happened.
Brendan had saved me.
He pushed me out of the way.
And now he was gone.
He was gone. Not me.
Before the final stitch came loose I heard it. The muffled groaning, the strangulated breathing. With raw fingers, I dragged myself to the edge of the cold rocks and saw the hand, the bloodied knuckles clutching frantically to a jagged triangle of rock that jutted out from the cliff.
“Brendan?” I whimpered hopefully, stretching my hands as far down as they could go.
“Take my hand,” I yelled, hoping against hope that I was about to help pull Brendan, my savior, to safety—and not the monster.
His other hand clawed at the cliff wall, grabbing hold of a small ridge.
And then I saw them: the glimmering green eyes that peered up from underneath a tangled shock of black hair.
“Brendan,” I breathed, relieved.
He only grunted in reply, his feet scraping against the cliff wall as he tried to find some purchase against the rocks. I grabbed for his left hand, while his right still clutched to the triangle of stone that stuck out like a knife.
With my left hand in his and my right hand curled around his wrist, I pulled up as hard as I could. My muscles burned. My arms felt like they were being ripped out of their sockets. But I didn’t have the strength to pull him up. I tried to brace myself against the rocks, but my ankle screamed in protest, crumbling when I tried to put any pressure on it.
“Just hold on,” I groaned, wincing through the pain. “Help is coming, just hold on.”
And then Brendan’s hand started to slip.
“No!” I cried, wrapping my hands around his more tightly. I clawed at his sleeve, which just ripped underneath my fingers.
“Emma…” The tone of his voice sounded final as he continued kicking against the cliff, the smooth soles of his dress shoes skidding off the rough surface of the rocks.
“No, Brendan! No! I won’t lose you! Help me!” I shouted. I couldn’t lose him now. What was the point?
“What good was it to warn me?” I screamed, my voice shaking as I jerked closer to the end, Brendan pulling me down instead of me pulling him up. “Don’t warn me if you’re not going to help me! Ethan, help me! Where are you? Help me now!”
Brendan’s hand slipped another half an inch as his right hand grabbed at the rocks.
“Give me your hand,” a youngish male voice next to me commanded. I hadn’t even heard the officer arrive. I didn’t even look up, I just felt the warmth next to me as another hand shot out, grabbing Brendan’s left hand.
We both pulled, hoisting Brendan out of the abyss. I fell back as Brendan lunged forward onto the wintry rocks, his legs still dangling off the edge of the cliff.
Brendan eclipsed everything else. I saw nothing but him, my breathing still heavy as I gazed at the face I loved—cut and bruised, but flush with color, as he braced his palms against the frigid rocks, panting with exertion. He was still alive. He had saved my life.
I wrapped my arms around him, kissing Brendan’s face as he pulled his legs under him on the frosty rocks. He slid his arms around my waist, stroking my back as I buried my face into his neck, dampening his collar with tears.
“Thank you, sir,” Brendan said over my shoulder, his voice rough as he regarded the officer. And then he pulled back, blinking a few times.
“You— You’re— I know you?” Brendan said, his statement coming out like a question. The officer stood up, placing his hand on my shoulder and giving me a squeeze.
“It was my pleasure,” the officer said. I turned around to see him but I couldn’t make out his face—he was backlit by the flashlights bathing the plaza in swaths of light. A little late, but the cavalry had finally come.
“We’re over here,