on the terrace. A faint whistling sound infiltrates my thoughts, and I try to push it back, focusing on mentally running through my confession, straightening it out in my head before I speak. The sound grows louder and louder. I can’t find the words. Where are the words? I stare into his questioning eyes, digging deep for the courage.
Then Danny looks past me, his eyes growing wide, fear creeping in from the edges.
I frown as the whistle transforms into an ear-piercing screech, and slowly turn to look behind me, to see what has his horrified attention.
“Rose, move!”
I see something black coasting through the sky toward me, growing by the second. By the time I realize what it is, it’s too late.
The whole house shakes, my eardrums feel like they burst, and I scream, grabbing the railings on the balcony as flames billow in front of me. I’m grabbed from behind and hauled back, the terrace disappearing from under my feet, crumbling away in huge chunks. “Rose!”
My body jolts painfully, my arm feeling like it’s been ripped from its socket. It takes me a while to figure out why. Then it hits me. I look down calmly. There’s no terrace under my feet, just a sheer drop to the ground where the remains of the terrace lays in a pile of bricks, rubble, and smoke. I’m hanging over the edge, one hand in Danny’s, death staring me in the eye.
How easy it would be to let go of him. To be rid of my problems and the consequences attached to my choices.
My boy will be okay. He’ll be safe if I’m gone. Because I don’t think I can fight this battle now. The war is over. I can feel my hand slipping from Danny’s. Nox won’t take any pleasure in hurting my boy if he can’t hurt me.
I look up into Danny’s eyes. They speak to me amid the chaos of fire, destruction, and panic, and all I can think in this moment is how much more destruction there will be if I don’t let go. More death. More hurt. Clarity hits and sticks. I was deluded. Mad to think this mess can be sorted out. Mad to think I could spill my sins on Danny and think it’ll all be okay. It won’t be. How can it be? Danny won’t kill me for betraying him, yet his rejection will feel like death. But Nox will kill me. Call me stupid, but I’d rather call the shots on how I go. It’ll be the first time in my life that I’ve ever made a decision for me. I can’t be with Danny. That’s my cold, hard reality, and now, in this moment, I don’t want to live if I can’t be. I’ve lost too much already. I can’t lose him too.
“Don’t you fucking dare let go,” Danny growls, releasing his spare hand that’s holding on to the mangled metal doorframe and dropping to his stomach, extending it to me. “Take it. God help me, Rose, take my other hand.”
I find myself shaking my head, flexing my sweaty hand in his, trying to free myself from his grip.
“No,” he yells, scrambling to reach for my free, swaying hand. “Rose, I’ll fucking kill you myself, I swear.”
I stare at him. Silent. My world is mine again.
“Rose, for fuck’s sake,” he pants down at me. “I didn’t just spill my fucking heart out, tell you my whole miserable fucking story, for you to bail on me now. Take my fucking hand. You don’t get to die now.”
I’m dead either way. I yank my hand free and feel gravity claim me, pulling me to my death.
“No!” Danny lunges forward, seizing my wrist and roaring as Brad grabs the waist of his jeans to stop him falling over the edge with me.
“Fucking hell, Danny,” Brad bellows, breathless.
“God damn you, Rose.” Danny looks me straight in the eye, his face awash with fury as he starts shuffling back with the help of Brad, dragging me up over the edge, my thighs and chest scraping on the rough, jagged concrete as I go. “What the fuck?” he yells, shoving me to my back and flopping on top of me, his breathing shot. I stare at him, dazed. I’ve seen anger on Danny Black before. On countless occasions. But those times pale in comparison to what I’m seeing now. Pure, raw, burning rage. And it frightens me. For the first time, he’s frightening me. I look away from his