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Then he saw the hook and repelling line. She would live if they made it to the bottom, but Damian would have to beat them there. He was turning for the stairs when the man holding her fired. He saw it come at him as if in slow motion, tried to move, felt the sting of it in his chest.
He tried to stay on his feet through sheer force of will, through his desperation to save her, but his body collapsed under him anyway. He noted it with a kind of dispassion. How strange that in the end he would have no control over his body. That he would fold like a piece of paper in spite of the rage coursing through him.
In spite of the knowledge that the only thing that mattered to him was in danger.
She screamed as he fell. “No!”
He wanted to tell her it was okay. That he was going numb and didn’t feel anything except his heart breaking as the man leapt from the terrace. But he couldn’t get any words out, and he watched as she disappeared below the edge of the terrace, his name and her sobs echoing off the rock below.
He lost consciousness for a moment. There was her scream, and then he was opening his eyes, staring up at the clouds clearing, the moon finally shining onto the patio as the sound of a boat receded in the distance.
He rolled over, left a trail of blood as he crawled to one of the pillars.
He propped himself up and reached for his phone.
