“No,” I growl through gritted teeth.
“It’s okay, son, I’ve got her.” My eyes flinch open, and I see he’s wearing leather gloves and holding the rope above and below me.
Terrence is at my side. “Step back. Give me your hands.”
My muscles shake with adrenaline and force. It took everything in my power to stop her falling, and now I have to let her go.
“I won’t let it move,” Darby says. “Open your hands and pull them straight off the line.”
With a groan, I do as he says. The cable smacks out of my grip and tightens around my leg. Just as fast, Terrence wraps cloths over my shredded palms.
“Squeeze these,” he says. “I’ll unwrap your leg.”
I do as he says, closing my fists over the cloths to stop the bleeding as he unties me. I stagger to the ladder, looking down as best as I can.
They’ve got her. She’s wrapped in a white blanket, and Roland is carrying her in his arms. Her head moves limply against his shoulders, but her eyes are closed.
I have to know she’s okay.
Lara
Everything is a blur.
I can’t focus on anything except getting air into my lungs.
I’m not dead.
I feel like I’ve been cut in half, but I’m not dead.
Chaos is all around me, and I’m lying on my side. The pain in my middle is mind numbing, and my arms and legs feel paralyzed.
I slowly realize I’m covered in something soft and Roland is at my side, lifting me in his arms.
“Lara?” His voice breaks with panic as someone unfastens the belt. “Can you hear me?”
I try to nod, but I’m not sure if I’m successful. I’m still dazed. The belt is off, and we rise as Roland stands, carrying me. My cheek is against his chest, but I see movement in the wings. I try to lean forward, but it shoots pain through my stomach. Still, straining my eyes, I see Mark at the bottom of the ladder. Someone is with him, but he pushes through the crowd and jogs to where Roland is passing. He’s holding his hands awkwardly, and I see dark red… Is he bleeding?
“Is she hurt?” His voice is desperate. “Lara?”
“You need to come with me,” Terrence touches his arm, but he jerks away.
“Is she going to be okay? I held her. I caught her as fast as I could.” His voice comforts me. I remember how he tried to encourage me before.
“Step back.” Roland’s voice is icy. “This had better not be your fault, boy.”
I look into his dark eyes wanting to make him stop. Stop talking to Mark that way… But I can’t seem to make my voice work.
“What is it?” Roland asks. Then inhales raggedly and clears his throat. “I’ll take you to your room.”
Terrence leads Mark away, and I look back in time to see Fiona unwrapping his hands. Inch-thick bloody lines tear down both his palms.
“Shredded your hands all right, but it’s lucky you caught her,” Terrence says. “She’d be dead otherwise.”
I shudder and press my head against Roland’s shoulder. His grip around me tightens. “This will not happen again,” he says through clenched teeth as he carries me to my dressing room.
We follow the dark, narrow corridor fast, past dancers hanging in the hallway looking curious, past the closed doors. He places me on my small bed. “I’ll get Rosa to come and check you over.” Someone hands him a small bottle. “Here, take this.”
I stare for a moment at the white pill in his palm before he puts it to my mouth and I take it, swallowing it down with a sip of water. The medicine works fast, and I roll onto my side, closing my eyes, overcome by exhaustion and shock.
5
“The universe loves a stubborn heart.”
Mark
“Who built that fucking thing?” Roland paces from Darby to where I’m sitting. “Who worked on it? I want to know which one of you imbeciles nearly killed her!”
My insides are humming, and I want to go back there and see her. I need to know she’s all right for myself. Instead, we’re all being held here to meet with Gavin.
“Calm down, Roland,” Darby growls. “Nobody wanted to hurt Lara.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want. I want to know which idiot I’m going to kill.”
My bandaged hands are clutched tight under my arms as I walk. My insides are shaking, and the panic of almost witnessing another death has my stomach in knots. As much as I tried to believe what happened to my uncle didn’t matter to me, I can’t deny the shock I’m feeling.
Terrence sits on a box staring at his fingernails while he smokes his third cigarette in a row. “What’s taking Gavin so fucking long,” he mutters under his breath.
“He’ll be here,” Roland says through tight lips as he lights his own cigarette.
I cut my eyes at him trying to understand his interest in Lara. Are they lovers? Their features are similar enough that they could be related. Only her bright blue eyes are different. I’m about to ask when a man dressed in a tuxedo and carrying a bouquet of roses strides in the middle of the group.
“Roland.” His voice is breathless. “There you are. What’s happening? Is Lara okay?”
The pianist’s expression changes. He actually smiles and holds out his hand. “Mr. Lovel, you’re here. She’s actually with the doctor now. They’ve given her pain medication, so I’m afraid you can’t see her.”
Straining my ears, I get the information I’ve been aching to know while we’ve been held back here. She’s okay. They’re taking care of her.
“I understand… I just—I have to return to Paris in the morning. I had hoped to let her know, to tell her I was worried, and to give her these.”
“I’ll make sure she gets them.” Roland takes the bouquet. “If you’ll come with me.”
He leads the rich guy away, and I lean against a concrete pillar.
“What? You didn’t think a girl like that would have a boyfriend?” Terrence squints up at me, and I straighten, clearing my throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He only laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t go down that road, my friend. You’ll only get your ass handed to you.”
I’m about to argue when Gavin finally joins us. He goes straight to Darby.
“Any idea what went wrong?”
Our boss shakes his head. “I inspected the machinery myself this afternoon. Everything was working fine when we tested it after lunch.”
“So it just broke somehow?”
Darby shrugs. “I don’t know what else to say. It was working fine. We all went home after five and came back at seven. For two hours anything could have happened.”
“You’re saying you think someone tampered with it?” Roland is with us again, eyes flashing.
“I’m not accusing anyone of anything.” Darby’s gruff voice is solemn. “I’m only saying what happened.”
Gavin is quiet a moment. His hand is over his mouth, under his rust-colored mustache, which matches his ginger hair. He’s a stocky, well-dressed man, and he takes a few steps to the side.