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“What are you going to do?” the man asks as he starts working on the knot at my wrists.
“We’re going up. You stay here and secure the floor. Make sure nobody else comes up that ladder.”
Life flows back into my arms with painful pinpricks when the constraints come free. I rub them to aid the blood flow while my assailant works on the rope around my ankles. My heart beats fast with fear, but also with hope. Someone came for me.
“Do you have the contract?” the man asks.
Harold takes his smartphone from his pocket and checks the screen. “Not yet.” He motions for me to come closer. “Call that son of a bitch and tell him I want it now. Tell him to call off his man or she’s dead.” Nudging the gun between my shoulder blades, he says, “Walk.”
We exit via the fire escape next to the broken elevator. My legs are shaky from being tied up for so long, but also from frightening, sickening panic. We mount one level and walk out on a rooftop terrace. Sucking in a breath, I grab the balustrade. We’re so high the closest rooftops look like Monopoly pieces. The horizon is a convex with smog pollution framing the edge.
In the distance are the Ponte and Auckland Park Tower landmarks. Oh, my God. We’re on the Hillbrow Tower.
“Walk,” Harold says, giving me a push from behind.
I stumble a step. Putting one foot in front of the other, I inch closer to where he’s forcing me—to the edge.
My whole body starts shaking when we reach the rail. It’s waist-high and in bad shape. The metal is rusted and bent in places. The protective net that once covered the open space is long gone. The wind whips my hair around my face, the cold penetrating my bones. I shiver in my coat. Frantically, I search the terrace for the person Harold saw, but the more I squint into the sun, the more I think he’s mistaken. There’s no one. The longer I stand on the edge of the most horrific drop, the more certain I become about why we’re here, but I’m not ready to face it.
I chance a look at Harold over my shoulder. The wind is loud. I have to shout to make myself heard. “What are we doing up here?”
My foolish heart hopes for a good answer, but my body knows better. My legs already go into convulsions of shock, barely carrying my weight.
Harold keeps the gun trained on me, his demeanor alert as he scans the terrace. “Quiet.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“This is where it ends.”
This is where I die. I feel like crying, but my eyes are dry. My heart won’t grant me tears. There’s no space for anything but the terrifying, dry fear. To set me free from my miserable existence would be a mercy, but I’m not ready to let go of life. I cling to it with everything I’ve got. I don’t want to die.
My voice cracks. “What have I ever done to you?”
“You know too much.”
I know about his criminal business dealings. I know he traded me to a sadist in exchange for mining rights. I know he planted the diamond on Damian to get him out of the way so he could exploit Damian’s discovery. I know he cheated his partners. I know he organized my abduction. Still, he knows things about me, too. He knows I shot Jack. He can use the information to make sure I keep my mouth shut. This isn’t about me knowing too much. It’s about something entirely different.
Pushing back my windblown hair, I turn to face him. “It’s because my mother didn’t love you.”
The truth flashes over his face for just a second before his expression turns into a mask of disgust. Ignoring me, he looks right and left.
“Are you going to push me?” I ask in a strangely calm voice.
“You’re going to jump.” He offers me a fleeting smile while continuing his scanning of the surroundings. “You’ve always been suicidal.”
“If I’m dead, Damian will come at you with everything he’s got. He’ll have nothing left to lose.”
“He can’t come at me if he’s dead.”
“Oh, my God. You’re pure evil.”
“I know you’re there,” he screams over the wind. “Come out wherever you are or she walks the plank.”
A shadow extends from behind the staircase room. A man steps out with his hands raised. Damian. I feel sick. I feel sick and happy. My feelings are jumbled up. I can’t make out my fear from my relief. I can’t sacrifice him.
My gaze locks with Damian’s as he pulls a pair of goggles from his eyes. The truth reflects in those dark brown depths. Harold can’t shoot us both at once. He’ll take out the biggest threat first. He’ll shoot Damian, which will give me time to run. Oh, my God. Damian is going to sacrifice himself to save me. My soul screams no. My heart shrivels. If Damian believes I’ll get away, he’s not alone. He brought reinforcements. Someone must be close on his heels. I scan the terrace that stretches beyond Damian and spot the electric rope reel attached to rail at the same time Harold calls, “Stop where you are.”
