Creatus

“Where are you?” she shouted, deciding that maybe she did want to attract the wrong kind of attention. Again, no one answered. Figures, she thought. No thieves or rapists around when you need one.

She pressed the button on her key fob frantically, spinning in the street, her arm raised high as she checked every direction, desperate to find her car. Finally hearing the chirp, she careened toward her vehicle. After fumbling with the door handle, she slumped in the seat, her head sinking against the steering wheel.

“Why did you save me?” she blubbered again. “So I could drink myself to death?” Of course, her choices weren’t his fault. She’d just hoped that he would feel compelled to rescue her from her stupid decisions, like going outside with that college guy. He’d been right to call her ‘stupid girl’ as he carried her away.

Kris examined her face in the rearview mirror, blanching at her reflection. Even with her creamy skin and golden blond hair, she looked old. Swirled and smeared lines of mascara streamed down her cheekbones, filling in the few creases on her face. She’d obviously been crying in her sleep again.

She vaguely remembered the nightmare that had woken her a mere hour after she’d crashed on the stranger’s couch. She’d been attempting to save her mother, trying to grab the knife. The thief had stuck her this time, and she was happy. Happy she’d taken the punishment for asking to go out for ice cream that fateful night. The reward she’d received for making the honor roll was that her mother had died.

Kris turned the key, and the engine whined in protest. Her car was obviously on its last leg too. When she reached the highway, she headed toward the Mystic River, specifically, the Tobin Bridge.

It was time.

She’d realized before that it was the only way, but now she was going to follow through with her decision. The jump itself wouldn’t do it. But from what she understood, it’d knock her out. Drowning was supposed to be a tranquil way to die, especially if you were unconscious. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen, but he’d left her no choice.

She lifted her phone from her purse and called the one person who’d care. A pang of guilt shot through her. They hadn’t spoken much since graduation five years ago, but Beth had asked her to be her maid of honor. Beth was now a teacher at their old high school and a soon-to-be-married woman. It was ‘Facebook Official’, as Kris would have said a few years ago. Nowadays she couldn’t care less about social media, though. The only notifications she still received were Beth’s updates. They no longer shared common interests, but she was the one person Kris had ever felt a connection with. Well, except for her Dark Angel. Even though she couldn’t see him, she always felt him. Somehow, their souls had connected when he’d saved her. She just needed to get him to reveal himself.

She’d done the rashest things in the last six years to force him into the open, but she’d never been desperate; she’d just been reckless. But no matter how many times she’d put herself in precarious situations, she’d never been attacked again. Maybe that was why she’d decided to kill herself slowly with drugs and alcohol, hoping he’d eventually save her from herself. Did he feel her pain now? she wondered. Would he stop her?

Kris waited as the rings ceased and the message clicked on. “You know what to do,” Beth’s chipper voice came through the phone followed by a beep.

“I love you, Beth,” Kris said calmly through fresh tears, attempting to suppress any audible cries. She didn’t want her friend to hurt in the event she was wrong. “I’m sorry. I really am. But know I’ll be happier wherever I am.” She clicked ‘end’ and tossed the phone on the seat.

Kris drove her car onto the curb and climbed out onto the upper deck of the Tobin Bridge, the highest bridge in Massachusetts.

“Are you going to let me do this?” she yelled into the darkness that engulfed her, wishing the sun would just come up already. “I’ve looked everywhere for you, and you refuse to show yourself.”

Bitter March winds whipped at her hair and body, turning her pale skin into a checkerboard of red and white. She scrubbed at her arms with her hands to warm them. How stupid. If he was a figment of her imagination, or chose not to save her this time, she’d be drowning in the frigid water of the Mystic River in minutes.

“If you exist, you’ll save me. I know you will. But if you don’t, I don’t want to live anyway.”

As the sun’s rays peeked above the horizon, lighting the abyss below her, she inhaled a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped. The ice-cold air rising from the river below rushed by her as she plummeted. She didn’t scream; she didn’t look down. As much as she hated her life, she hoped it wouldn’t end this way. She’d really like to see him one more time.

Her life didn’t flash before her eyes as she’d always heard. Just an image of her mother covered in blood and her Dark Angel telling her he was sorry. Those were obviously the only images she’d ingrained into her subconscious as important.

As she hit the water, a second of crushing pain seized her body and then the world turned dark and cold, enveloping her into its chasm.

“Breathe, dammit!”

His deep voice penetrated her brain at the same time the sensation of a stabbing hot poker seared her shoulder. She gasped for air, but fire radiated through her chest as she attempted to inhale the cool air. She opened her eyes but couldn’t see the face above her, only a silhouette of a man. She recognized his voice, though. Her Dark Angel had come for her.

The morning sun glared into her eyes, blinding her as she tilted her head to see him. As she lifted her hand to shield her face, a bolt of pain surged through her arm. “Oww…” she groaned.

“You dislocated your shoulder and you may have a couple of cracked ribs, but you’ll live,” the deep voice she’d longed to hear for six years said.

“I’m supposed to be dead,” she wheezed.

He cupped the side of her face. “No, you’re not. You’re supposed to live, Kristina. For me. I just wanted a few more years, you stupid girl.”

Remembering how he’d called her ‘stupid girl’ when she was sixteen, she tried to pull in a breath to protest, but it hurt too much. So she used what limited oxygen she had left in her lungs. “Stop… calling… stupid.”

He spurted out a breath and stood, shaking his head. “I’ll be back in a minute. Try not to get into trouble.”

Kris sealed her eyes shut, attempting to block out the sun as well as the throb in her shoulder, but then she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she was dead, because she could swear she’d just heard him say he’d be back.

Chapter Two

Derrick leaned over Kristina, thankful she was still alive. Her eyes opened and she smiled. She had to be in pain, but she forced a smile anyway. His heart soared. He’d wanted to wait a few more years. But now that he was here, beside her, allowing her to see him, he had no idea how he’d waited as long as he had. And he could have lost her. She could have died from that drop. He’d never believed for a second she would jump. She’d never indicated she was suicidal.

He touched her face again, loving the way her soft skin felt beneath his palm, hating that he was going to have to hurt her to help her. “I’m not going to lie to you; this isn’t going to feel pleasant. I need to set your shoulder before I can move you.” He removed his leather belt and held it in front of her mouth. “Bite down on this.”

Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, a flicker of fear lighting in her eyes, but she accepted the strap without uttering a word. Did she think he’d hurt her on purpose?

Derrick bent her arm at a ninety-degree angle, rotating her arm and shoulder inward, toward her chest. She clenched her teeth together on the leather, restraining her cries, for which he was grateful. It would kill him to see her in agony. Slowly, he rotated her arm and shoulder outward, keeping her upper arm stationary, coaxing it back into the shoulder joint.