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“I’m sorry. I mean it.” He releases me and a sickening sensation twines its fingers around me like a January wind. “Make sure you tell my mom that I said it and that I meant it.”
No. I know that hopelessness. I’ve seen it before. On Clara. The day she held a knife at her wrist. No one should look that way. Not ever. Kyle steps toward the bridge and I’m the one clutching his hand. “Don’t do this. Not now. We’ll figure it out. I swear we’ll figure it out.”
The metal beneath my feet vibrates and mind-numbing fear freezes my heart. “Kyle, it’s the train.”
A whistle in the distance and there are multiple shouts. Men yelling my name. Telling me to get off the tracks. “Go, Bre.” His eyes are hard and his jaw determined. “Go now.”
Kyle attempts to shake off my hold, and when I won’t let go, he shoves me. I stumble and the words rip so loudly from my throat that it scratches the vocal cords. “He’s going to jump. He’s going to jump or stay on the track! I can’t let him!”
Another whistle and it’s so loud that the hair on my arms rises. He’s going to die, and if we don’t run, we’re both going to die. “Don’t do this! Please don’t do this!”
The entire bridge shakes and Kyle quakes as he studies the churning water. “Tell my mom I loved her. Just tell her that I loved her.”
“Move, move, move!” Pounding of footsteps and an arm around my waist. “Let’s move!”
Tears flood my eyes, but the roaring of an engine causes my feet to scramble, me to move in the same direction as I’m being dragged. Pulling me forward, running with me, it’s blond hair, a black cut.
The green of the trees blur as we race for our lives, as we race to beat a train.
My lungs hurt, my legs burn, I trip in the rush forward and the strong arm lifts me and then we’re rolling. The scent of fall grass, then the air’s knocked out of me as we land and we continue to roll. Dirt and rocks embed into my skin.
I reach out, clawing into the ground. We finally skid to a halt and there’s only the deafening grumble of the train flying past. I whip my head to confirm Razor’s safe and then I scurry back, my arms and legs colliding against each other. It’s blond hair and blue eyes, but that’s not Razor.
“Where’s Razor?” I shout, but the train drowns me out. Pigpen’s on his feet and a wave of nausea crashes into me. Dizzy with dread, I yell Razor’s name, but there’s no reply.
Lots of black cuts. Lots of men wide-eyed and scanning the area. I’m frantic, desperate for a sign of him, desperate to see everything at once.
“Where is he?” Pigpen demands, and my mind rejects someone’s answer of “He went over. He was dragging that kid and it was close. He shoved the kid and they both went over.”
There’s a pain in my heart. So massive, so intense that I bend over. “Razor!”
My shout is swallowed by steel grinding against steel and the rhythmic clank, yet I try again. “Thomas!”
I can’t lose him. I can’t. The last car passes, the rumbling fades and a crow caws in the distance. I’m stumbling through the field, next to the track, and the men march toward the ravine.
“Thomas, answer me!”
“I told you, it’s Razor, but I like that name off your lips, too.”
My heart pulses hard as I drop to the ground and peer over the edge. A few feet down, sitting on a rock ledge, Razor raises his beautiful face in my direction. Dirt stains his cheek and there’s a rip in his jeans with a small amount of blood, but he’s alive. The mix between a sob and a laugh escapes from my mouth. “So I can call you Thomas now?”
“Considering the past few minutes, you can call me anything as long as I can hug you again.”
“Deal.” Movement near Razor and it’s an odd sensation of relief when I spot Kyle propping his back against the rock wall.
Razor catches my eyes and rocks his head for me to stay silent. “Get us help.”
Razor saved Kyle’s life—from suicide, from a train. “He’s over here! Razor’s over here!”
“Why’d you do it?” I overhear Kyle ask. “Why’d you save me?”
“Because somebody loves you,” Razor answers, and my heart twists for all of us—me, him and Kyle. “Because somebody out there fucking loves you and doesn’t deserve the type of hurt you jumping would have caused. Killing yourself doesn’t solve your problems. It just hands them to somebody else.”
“Razor—” Kyle starts.
“Shut up,” Razor cuts him off. “Just shut the fuck up.”
Pigpen rushes to my side. “Is he okay?”
