by S. J. Bishop
Angelo looked back toward her.
"No, honey. You aren't." He reached out one hand and pushed Clarissa off the bridge.
47
Clarissa
My feet circled over my head as my body did a somersault. My hands flailed around me, and my fingers brushed the edge of something cold and steely. I gripped it tightly, bending a nail back as my fingers dug into the structure of the bridge and refused to let go.
I screamed.
My feet dangled high above the Harlem River as I tried not to look down. But my eyes drifted downward anyway, against my protests. My head was spinning. I felt light headed, and my fingers slipped. I gripped them tighter, sending sharp, searing pain into my fingertips as the bent nail peeled all the way off my fingertip. At least the pain woke me up. I was no longer dizzy.
"Oh God!" I cried out. "Lars!" I screamed as loud as I could and heard him shout back.
"Clarissa!" His face appeared over the edge of the bridge, staring down at me with wild alarm. I realized I wasn't that far from the top of the bridge. It had felt like I'd fallen a million miles down, but really it had only been a few feet. Lars reached out one hand toward me. I reached out to take it. Suddenly, he was yanked backward. I could hear groans and grunts as I imagined Lars fighting his way through Angelo and the rest of his goons. My legs kicked out from under me, searching frantically for somewhere to plant themselves.
My left foot was just able to reach the edge of one of the beams holding the bridge up. I tried to slip my toes into a small opening and my shoe fell off, plopping into the river below. I screamed again as my toes tried desperately to grab hold of the steel girder.
"Lars!" I screamed again. I could hear noises from up top but couldn't see anything that was going on. I looked down again and immediately regretted it. The blood pouring out of my fingernail was making my grip slippery. I knew I didn't have much time. I had to get back up or... I looked back down once more, trying to gage how far of a drop it was. I knew the bridge was tall, but not the tallest in New York. The Brooklyn Bridge was almost three hundred feet tall. This was slightly shorter. Two hundred? Two fifty?
I had this recollection of my old scene teacher saying once that a fall into water from two hundred fifty feet was fatal in ninety-eight percent of the cases. I hoped I was misremembering that.
I twisted my body, trying to bring my legs up so that maybe I could wrap them around the beam I was holding onto, but that only made me slip more. I had seconds before I would be falling. I said a silent prayer to protect my father and Treena and wished that in my next life I might meet Lars again, only under better circumstances.
Eternity stretched before me as I waited to fall. I felt my fingers slipping and tried, once more, to reach for the top beam of the bridge. I failed. My fingers slipped and my life flashed in front of me, just like people always said it did.
I saw my father in the hospital, his face bruised and battered. Then I saw him again when I was eight and he was holding me in his arms after I'd fallen off my bike and skinned my knees. He kissed my head and told me everything would be alright. I kept my eyes closed as I fell toward the water. That was the memory I wanted to take with me.
Someone's fingers wrapped around my wrist, snapping me back from the jaws of death. I'd been falling so fast that the sudden jolt of stopping nearly yanked my arm out of my socket. I opened my eyes, every part of me aching.
"Clarissa!" Lars screamed as his hand clamped tightly around my wrist. "I've got you!"
48
Lars
I held onto her wrist, afraid I was going to break her by squeezing so hard, but even more afraid to let go. If she fell, I would never forgive myself.
"Clarissa!" I screamed. I saw her eyes open wide, staring at me with panic. I tried to pull her up, but it was hard with the pain I was in. I'd managed to knock Marco and the two goons out, but Angelo had grabbed Marco's knife and dug it into my side just as Madeline had run off, screaming into the night. I should have known she'd never stay and fight. Can't say that I blamed her. I knew my knife wound wasn't serious, but it certainly didn't make my job any easier. I was lucky that I'd managed to knock Angelo's head into a steel beam when I did.
"Hold on!" I shouted to her. "I've got you!" She dangled dangerously over the water. If she slipped and fell, there was no way she could survive. Not at this height.
I tried again to pull her up. My arm felt like it was coming out of my socket, but I didn't care. "Reach up with your other hand!" I yelled to her. "Try to grab ahold of the railing!"
She reached up with her left hand, her fingertips almost grasping the bottom edge of the railing. I was pulling her up solely with my right arm, using my left for support as I grasped the railing so we didn't both go toppling over. Suddenly, pain shot through my left hand like I'd never felt before. Angelo was standing there. He'd just driven the blade of his knife through the palm of my hand. I jerked my body, reacting instinctively to having a knife in my hand. My entire football career flashed before my eyes as my hand throbbed and bled. The pain was so great I couldn't imagine ever being able to use it again for anything, especially not throwing a football. A quick wave of remorse washed over me as I knew my career was over, but the remorse disappeared the second I heard Clarissa scream. Whatever happened, Clarissa was worth it.
"You're fucking done, Lars!" Angelo shouted. I looked quickly around and saw five of Angelo's men running from the opposite side of the bridge toward us. I'd been wrong to assume he'd only posted two men over there. Idiot.
I retightened my grip on Clarissa with my right hand, my left hand throbbing in pain as I shook it. The knife was still stuck in it. It had actually poked through the other side of my hand. If the bridge had been made of wood, the knife probably would've driven deep down into it and held me prisoner there. There was no way I could get the knife out without letting go of Clarissa. I just had to deal with it. I bared my teeth and took deep breaths. Angelo stood there laughing at me, actually laughing. For once, his smile looked genuine.
"If you let her go," Angelo said. "You still have a chance to save your mom."
It was killing me not to be able to take him out, but there was no chance in hell that I was gonna let Clarissa go.
"Fuck you, Angelo," I shouted. Veins popped from my forehead as Angelo slowly approached me. There was nothing I could do. If I dropped Clarissa, she died. If Angelo killed me, we'd both die, but at least I'd go out knowing that I'd fought my hardest for the only woman I'd ever loved.
"Let me see that hand," Angelo said, grabbing my left hand. He pulled the knife out, and I screamed. I'd never felt so much pain in my life. He held the knife under my chin, taunting me with it.
"Last chance," he said. "If you die, we're still gonna kill your mom. Just so you know."
I spit in his face. Angelo grimaced, his face turning red. He raised the knife, preparing to slice my throat with it. Madeline jumped on his back. We were both so wrapped up in what we were doing that neither of us had noticed her creep up behind him. She had taken off her heels so that she wouldn't make any noise.
Angelo was so startled he actually dropped the knife. I reached out with one foot and kicked it far away. His other hired goons were almost to us, and I only had a few moments to get Clarissa up to safety. I reached over the railing with both hands now and pulled with all my might. I could hear Madeline screaming, but it wasn't fear. It was anger.
"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" she screamed over and over again, battering her fists against Angelo's head as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, riding him like a bull.
I let out a long, powerful grunt as my arms pulled Clarissa upward. Finally she was able to reach out with one hand and grasp the top of the railing. I pulled harder as her legs came up and over the sides. She fell on top of me, kissing me passionately as I lay with my back flat on the bridge.
"Thank you," she whispered, her face wet as I wrapped my arms tightly around her.
"I'm never letting you
out of my sight again."
Madeline let out a loud, piercing scream. We looked up just in time to see Angelo fling her off his back. She went careening through the air, landing with a thump as her back hit one of the steel beams and she fell to the ground unconscious. I stood up, ready to tackle Angelo just like in a game of football.
A shot fired through the air, buzzing within an inch of my ear. I turned to see Angelo's henchmen approach us, guns drawn. Clarissa jumped up, clinging to me tightly as they walked toward us.
It was just then that a man approached from the opposite end of the bridge. "Hey!" he called out. "Angelo! Is that you?"
Angelo turned around to see who this new intruder was.
"I thought that was you! What are you doing out here?"
"Tony?" Angelo asked, confused.
"Yeah."
"What are you doing here?" Angelo asked.
"Looking for you. I've got something for you." He pulled a gun from his coat pocket and pointed it directly at Angelo's heart. "I'd call your boys off if I were you. Even if they shot me dead right now, I'd still get off one good round. And one is all it takes to kill."
As if on cue, a group of guys I recognized from Vinegar Hill all came around the bend. There were about five of them, and they all had guns. Suddenly, things had just evened up.
49
Clarissa
Too much was happening at once. I tried to focus on Lars, but my eyes kept turning to Madeline lying on the ground with her head bleeding, then to my own hand covered in blood. There were too many men that I didn't recognize. I couldn't tell Angelo's men apart from the ones who were, apparently, Lars' friends.
I looked around on the ground for a weapon so I could help and spotted the knife lying not far away. I reached it just as a gun went off. I looked up to see one of the men I didn't recognize get shot. I hoped it wasn't Lars' friend. When I heard Angelo start cursing, I knew it wasn't.
Lars punched Angelo in the face, and he fell back. The guy that Lars had called Tony, the only one I could seem to keep track of other than Lars, grabbed Angelo as he fell and shoved his knee into his groin. Everyone had guns, but only a few shots seemed to have been fired. I guessed that it was hard to hit a moving target, especially one that you were entangled with.
I grabbed the knife and held it tightly in my hand, not really sure what I planned to do with it but feeling better having some sort of weapon, even if it didn't fire bullets. Something in my stomach churned, and I felt suddenly nauseous.
Oh jeez, now wasn't the right time.
The nausea passed, and I realized it had more to do with the throbbing pain in my fingers than it did with being pregnant. I watched worriedly as Lars and his friends fought Angelo, finally deciding the best thing I could do was check on Madeline and stay out of the way.
I skirted around the edge of the fight, cheering as Lars clobbered one of the goons. It looked like this would all be over shortly and Lars, Tony and their friends appeared to have the upper hand. I made my way to Madeline and crouched down beside her, cradling her head gently in my lap. Her head was bleeding.
"Madeline?" I asked, worried. I had no idea how she'd wound up here tonight. All I knew was that when Lars and I had needed help, she'd been there. "Madeline?" I said again, wondering if I could ever forgive her. Ever trust her again.
I looked at her chest and suddenly realized that it wasn't rising and falling as it should. There was slight movement there, but it was very jerky, like she couldn't breathe.
"Madeline!" I screamed louder this time. I started shaking her. Her head wobbled from side to side. I slapped one of her cheeks, demanding that she wake up. Suddenly, her eyes opened. She inhaled a great swallow of air, and I saw her cheeks turn pink as blood rushed to them. In that instant, I knew that I could forgive her. Trust would form again with time. Whatever had happened between us, she had helped to save my life tonight.
I held her head tightly to my chest, stroking her hair. She looked up at me, her eyes glassy but slowly starting to focus.
"Clarissa?" she breathed. "You're okay?"
I nodded. "Oh God," she cried. "I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly as she tried to sit up.
There was a loud grunting noise, and I looked up just in time to see Lars club Angelo over the head with his fist. He grinned as Angelo fell to the ground and this time stayed down. I grinned back at him, but my grin turned into a scream as I pushed Madeline away and ran toward Lars.
"Clarissa, what's—"
His question was cut off as Marco fired a round straight into Lars' back.
50
Lars
Sometime during all the fighting, Marco had regained consciousness, grabbed a gun, and waited for his opportunity. Clarissa got to me just as Marco had finished pulling the trigger. I'd never seen anyone run so fast in my life. I tried to yell out, to tell her to stop. I didn't want her anywhere near Marco or his gun, but she was already pushing me out of the way. Clarissa and I tumbled to the ground just as the bullet sailed past her shoulder. Tony spun around and fired two shots into Marco's chest, dropping him dead as a fly.
I lay with Clarissa on the ground for a minute, breathing, relaxing ever so slightly. She hovered over me, her face pale as she searched my eyes and started patting me down.
"What are you doing?" I asked her, laughing as her hands lifted my shirt, trying to examine me like a doctor.
"Looking for a wound. Are you okay? Did you get hit?"
"No," I told her, smiling. "I'm fine." I kissed her warm, precious mouth, wondering at what a fool I'd been to spend the last two days without her soft, moist lips. "I can't believe you just saved me like that. That was very stupid. Next time, I insist that you let me get shot." She thought I was joking, but I wasn't. Suddenly, I remembered something. I jumped up, Clarissa rising with me.
"Tony! My mother! I've got to warn her!"
Tony shook his head from ten yards away. "I've got it taken care of," he called back. "You might've forgotten what Angelo's like, but I didn't. The first thing I did after you called was send some guys over to her house."
I breathed a sigh of relief as Tony turned back to the group of guys he'd brought with him. I recognized a couple of their faces and would have to remember to thank them later.
"You know, Clarissa," I said, turning back to her. "You're very brave, but you're also—" I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Lars? What is it?" Clarissa asked, fear shooting into her eyes. But the fear I saw there could never have matched my own fear.
"Tony! Tony! I need help!" I screamed.
"Lars, what is it? What's wrong?" She continued looking me over, searching for a bullet wound but finding nothing.
"It's not me," I told her, grabbing her hands and clinging to them tightly as tears flooded my eyes. "You've been hit."
She blinked, not understanding. "I've been hit?" she asked, laughing. "Lars, I'm fine. The bullet grazed my shoulder. That's all. I—" She turned to look at her shoulder to emphasize her point and saw the open bullet wound. Blood was pouring out of it. "I... no. I feel fine," she stuttered. "It doesn't even hurt." Tony was running toward us. I tried to get Clarissa to sit down, but she wouldn't listen.
"I'm fine," she assured me, then dropped to her knees. "Just fine."
I sat beside her, forcing her to lay down again. Her face was growing paler by the second. "Actually, maybe you're right. Something doesn't feel right."
I watched her eyes flutter closed and stay closed.
Tony was beside me in seconds, but it felt like hours. "I called 911," he said. I could hardly hear him. I pulled Clarissa, unconscious, into my lap. "Oh God," I cried. "I've lost her."
"Don't say that," Tony said. "This isn't Ash."
"Yes, it is!" I screamed at him. "This is Ash all over again! I failed her just like I failed him!"
"Lars, shut up, man. You can still make this right. You'll have another chance." But I couldn't hear him anymore. Even if the paramedics m
ade it here in time, this was a footbridge. They couldn't drive the ambulance up on it. They'd lose precious minutes just trying to get to her while she bled out.
I took a deep breath and braced myself as I lifted Clarissa into my arms.
"Lars, what are you doing?"
"You can't carry her!" Madeline cried, running over to join us. "Look at you, you're hurt just as much as she is!"
I ignored them both. I ignored the pain in my side from where Angelo had stabbed me. I ignored the throb in my hand from where he'd stabbed me a second time. I ignored the blood loss and the lightheadedness and everything else except the woman in my arms who was carrying my child. I had promised myself that if she gave me another chance, I'd never let her down again.
I stomped slowly toward the foot of the bridge, taking care not to drop her. Every bone in my body ached more and more with each step, but I refused to give in to the pain.
"Let me carry her, man," Tony said.
My only answer was my silence. The foot of the bridge was my end zone, and getting Clarissa there meant I'd just won the game. Methodically placing each foot in front of me, I made it to the bottom of the bridge just as the cops arrived with the ambulance.
51
Clarissa
I opened my eyes to bright overhead lights. It wasn't until I turned my head and saw Lars in the chair beside my bed that I realized I was in a hospital. I'd never forget those chairs. I'd spent enough nights in them after my father's accident.
"Lars?" I croaked.
His head shot up so quickly that I wondered if he'd actually been asleep. His eyes were red as cherries. It looked like he hadn't slept in a month.
"Clarissa!" he breathed, so quietly that I almost couldn't hear him. It was like he was afraid that speaking too loudly would hurt me somehow.