at the stranger, who is back to looking relaxed again, like he didn’t just foil months of planning. “You need to mind your own damn business.” Elliot tries for bravado, but the crack in his voice, along with the tremor in his hands, completely give him away. He’s such a failure he can’t even do this right.
He tries to take a calming breath, quickly glancing over the edge. It’s such a high drop-off, with nothing but sharp rocks and trees to break his fall. All he needs to do is run and fling himself off. The stranger must have read his mind, because he casually steps right in front of Elliot, blocking his view.
“Look, man, I don’t know who you are, and frankly, I don’t care. But I need you to leave me alone right now,” he says with as much bluster as he can force. Who’s he kidding, though? He eyes the hulk of a man who stands before him. He could eat Elliot for lunch. He’s got at least half a foot and a hundred pounds of muscle on him.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You’ve got some sort of God complex or something? This isn’t up to you. It’s my choice.”
“It may be your choice to take your own life, but it’s my choice not to sit by and let you. Navy SEALs never leave a man behind.”
Of course, the guy is a freaking Navy SEAL, because that makes perfect sense on the top of a damn mountain with no water in sight. Elliot is so close to tears he doesn’t know what to do. He finds himself collapsing against a tree, trying to swallow the scream that is firmly lodged in his throat. He made sure his plan was foolproof this time. There is no turning back; he has nothing left.
• • •
(48 hours earlier)
Elliot stands in his empty apartment and looks around at the white walls. Even when it was full of his things, it felt empty. The emptiness now just happens to be valid. It only took about an hour for the Salvation Army to erase his entire life from this small, depressing place. He removes his checklist from his pocket and checks off number two—Salvation pick-up.
His last attempt was thwarted by the neighbor’s dog, Brownie. He was just about to swallow a bottle of pills when there was a knock at his door. He ignored it until the incessant sound finally got to him, and he put the open bottle on the coffee table and went to answer it. It was his elderly neighbor, Rose, asking him to watch her precious Brownie while she went to her doctor’s appointment. The dog was all she had, and she hated to leave him alone, so Elliot, like always, agreed.
Brownie came bounding into the room and knocked the bottle over with his tail, sending the pills flying. Terrified the dog would consume any of them, he quickly got the vacuum and cleaned them up, watching as his relief literally went down the tube.
It’s almost funny how inept Elliot is. It’s ironic, really, that he fails at everything so splendidly that he can’t even succeed at ending his life.
After the second failed attempt, he decided enough was enough. He would give away every single thing he had, spend every dime left to his name, and fly across the country so there was no backup plan left. This time it had to work.
TWO
SNAPPING OUT OF his musings, Elliot takes in his current situation. He doesn’t believe in fate or karma or any of that nonsense. Yet, looking over at the large Navy SEAL to his right, he has to wonder if some superior being is just messing with him now. No way could a third failed attempt be coincidence.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he had nothing left, he might even think of this as a sign. No. He pushes that thought out of his head as soon as it enters. Somehow, he must go through with this. He can’t fail at this too. Life can’t be that cruel, can it?
The tightness in his chest returns fiercely. His breathing is shallow and piercing. Of course he would have a panic attack at this moment, sitting next to the strongest man he’s ever encountered. As if he didn’t already know what a weakling he was.
“Come on, now, take a deep breath. Put your head between your legs and copy my breathing.”