Her heart fell to her feet, her stomach churned with fear. Yet, his figure, so diminutive against the enormous backdrop of the New York City skyline, cried out to her—screamed for her to do something, anything.
And then she heard the heartbeat—just one, a single rapid fire of pain and anguish. This made no sense. How could he be the person she was supposed to be finding true love for? It was clear he wanted out of life, not a life mate.
Quinn’s throat clogged up as she remembered Khristos’s words about not rushing—to wait for him before she did anything rash. But she was torn as the heartbeat grew louder. What if she waited and he pitched himself into the murky waters of the Hudson? She’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t offer help.
And then she thought, fuck this business of being Aphrodite. She didn’t know why she was here at this very moment or what the shit kind of match she was supposed to make with someone who wanted to end their life, but not a chance in hell was she going to let this guy plunge off this bridge.
Instantly, she had a choice to make—approach or call 911. Slipping her hand inside her purse, she rolled her fingers over her phone, locating it, but another heartbeat interrupted the action she planned to take.
A heartbeat smaller, much smaller than what she’d heard before and assumed belonged to the man on the bridge. It was erratic and quick, as though the owner was panicked or afraid. She took quick steps to get a closer glimpse when someone grabbed her arm and slipped a hand over her mouth.
Instinct told her to fight as her heart fought to get out of her chest until the owner of the hand said, “Do you hear it, Quinn?” Khristos whispered in her ear, an urgent demand.
She stilled and leaned back into Khristos with a nod of flooding relief that he wasn’t a bad guy out to kill her. Gripping his wrist to pull his hand from her mouth, she pushed at it. “Let me go! I have to help him!”
“No!” he ordered in a hiss against her ear. “I need you to trust me, Quinn.”
She struggled against Khristos. Trust him? “He’ll die! I won’t let that happen!”
“Trust me, Quinn. Trust me and listen. Listen.”
Her panic subsided as the smaller heartbeat took over, thrumming, melding with the larger, more powerful one…and then something else.
A third heartbeat? She strained against the grip Khristos had on her, as though leaning into the night would make the listening easier.
“Listen, Quinn. Feel it. Close your eyes, lean into me and feel it.”
Quinn did as he instructed, forgetting that his chest was rock-hard yet inviting, forgetting that his embrace left her unafraid and comforted. Instead, she did what he requested. She felt.
Felt the thrumming in her veins, a sweet pulse of joy that grew stronger.
Felt the release of helplessness and, in its place, hope. So much hope it almost doubled her over, blooming into her chest like a flower opening under the warmth of the sun.
Squeezing Khristos’s arm, she whispered, “Ohhh…”
His chin fell to the top of her head, where he let it rest. “Hang on to it, Quinn. Ride it out and listen.”
Stealing a slow breath, Quinn cocked her head and heard another voice coming from the area of the bridge—a female voice, soft and lilting. “It’s a kitten! I knew I heard meowing. Aw, c’mere, little guy. Oh my God, you’re freezing!”
The man on the guardrail looked up, and for a beat of a moment, his face was as clear as if Quinn were standing right in front of him. His eyes glittered from his tears, his gaunt cheeks chapped with two bright spots of red, the despair written on his face clear—and that was when he hesitated.
And it was when she knew, when she felt what Khristos has described. This feeling, this pull wasn’t urgent at all—it was right. It fit like a lost piece to a puzzle.
It simply was.
Quinn stopped breathing altogether as she clung to Khristos to keep from running to the man’s aid—to allow whatever was supposed to happen, just happen.
This little woman, bundled from head to toe in a puffy jacket and boots, had managed to stop his momentum as she held up a tiny white and black kitten. Violent shudders wracked its freezing body as she cupped it close to her chest and stroked its head.
The man’s grip on the guardrail loosened and he looked down at the woman without qualm. He cleared his throat. “Is he…is he okay?”
The young woman looked up then, her profile sloping and soft, her hair falling along her back in raven swirls highlighted in blue, and she smiled up at him—a smile that was filled with sincerity…with understanding…with rare kindness. “I think he will be. Would you mind holding him while I dig around in my purse for my hat? I’ll tuck him into it and he’ll be right as rain until I get home.” She held up the tiny ball of shaking fur, as the man slid effortlessly from the guardrail, taking the kitten, his eyes meeting the woman’s.