Her shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I tried. I was there the morning you almost overdosed. When I got there, you’d thrown up and were gasping for air. I finally got up the courage to trip the fire alarm, thinking it would call the police. But as I watched from the wooded area behind the building, it was Mark who pulled up ten minutes later.” Her eyes met mine as she croaked, “I’d tried to be the hero and instead I thought I’d sentenced you to death.”
“I’m not dead,” I rushed out, taking a step toward her. It was a risk, but I couldn’t stop the need to be closer just in case. “I guess he was afraid of losing me or getting caught with a body. I don’t know. But he put me in my car and left me at the park he’d taken me from.”
“I know. I heard that you’d been found later that day when I got up the courage to go up to The Rusty Nail and get my paycheck. I took off for South Carolina the same night, but I never stopped feeling like it was all my fault.” A sob escaped her lips as she hunched farther forward, defeated and ashamed.
Fuck Mark for having done this to her. To me. To everyone.
I swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in my throat. “Jenna, you did not do this. If anything, you saved my life by setting off the alarm. I would have overdosed in the cooler if it hadn’t been for you.”
“Maybe.” She tipped her head up and sniffed. “But if I’d just been stronger and not so fucking scared to call the cops, he never could have hurt you a second time. I followed you to Savannah because I wanted to see with my own eyes that you were okay. And maybe if you were okay, I could finally let go of all the guilt. Maybe I could be okay too.”
I stepped toward her but stopped when her body jerked, her foot almost slipping from the narrow ledge. “I am okay. Look at me. I’m better than okay. The only thing I need for my life to be perfect is for you to come back over the railing.”
“I can tell. The way he looks at you, Remi…” She shuddered. “Mark fucked me up in so many ways. Not just with what he did to you, either. I can still feel his hands on me some nights. I kept thinking that if you could move on after everything he did to you, then I could too.”
I had been able to move on, but it didn’t mean it had been easy. It was far from it, something I would spend hours explaining to her once she was safely on the terrace if she needed me to.
Sadness, more profound than I could have ever imagined, laced her words. “But it doesn’t make you feel better seeing other people happy. It just makes you realize how much you’re missing and what you’ll never have.” Another wave of panic tore through me as she shifted her feet.
I didn’t have time to wait for Bowen—or anyone else for that matter.
We all deserved a happily-ever-after, dammit. Not another fucking tragedy at the hands of Mark Friedman.
“Do you believe in fate, Jenna?” I asked, toeing my heels off one at a time.
She glanced at the movement of my feet. “What?”
“Fate. A predestined chain of events beyond a person’s control. Do you believe in it?” I carefully took a step forward.
“Uh…” she drawled, growing more nervous the closer I got.
“I wasn’t sure if I believed in it at first, either. Though after a safety pin, a plane crash, and a hotel in Charlotte, I’ve changed my mind.” I took a final step, getting within an arm’s length of her. “Scoot over. I’m coming out.”
Her neck snapped back. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I need some space, woman. Scooch.” I closed the distance to the railing in front of her and grinned.
“Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed.” She hissed in my face. “You are not coming out here.”
“No, I’m not,” I replied. It had worked. I’d talked my way close enough to grab her. With a silent prayer and lightning speed, I hooked my arm through hers, locking it against the railing.
“Hey!” she shouted as though I’d just cheated at Monopoly. She struggled to get her arm back, but I held it tight, ready—at least I hoped—to catch her weight if she slipped.
“Not long ago,” I whispered, my nose inches from hers, “I was where you are right now. Suffocating in pain, willing to end it all because of what a manipulative psychopath did to me. I can’t tell you why I obsessed about the crying woman. It was probably the same reason you moved to Savannah. But I am telling you now, I’m here with you for a reason. Call it fate or destiny or whatever the hell you want, but I won’t let you do this. Do not give that piece of shit any more of you than he already stole. The only way any of us will ever find peace is to let him rot while we keep thriving.”
