Freefall

Twelfth Chapter

Something wasn't right.

It was dark, and my eyes were sagging. I was in that state between wakefulness and sleep. I knew that I should force myself to wake up fully, but it had been so long since I hadn't stayed up through the whole night that the fear of falling had receded. I was being lazy.

But when something in the room shifted, I was wide awake. At first, I was relieved that something had woken me, feeling the familiar ache in my twice-hurt wrist. After a moment, though, I was uneasy. Something had wakened me.

I blinked at the darkness. Everything seemed normal, but my eyes were still adjusting to the lack of light. There were no more noises, no more shifts in the furniture. I waited a long moment and then breathed a sigh of relief. It must have been in my imagination, and I was glad because I didn't relish the idea of falling off of another building.

Convinced that everything was fine, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I wasn't going to risk falling asleep again. The alarm clock by the side of my bed read 2:00 a.m., so I had quite a bit of time to kill.

I reached over the railing on the side of my bed for the TV remote that sat beside the alarm clock. It wasn't there. I squinted, confused. I was sure that I had put it there earlier in the day. My eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, and the light from the clock illuminated the table. There was no remote.

I frowned and began to search the sheets for my distraction. I had lifted the sheets to see if somehow the remote had been entangled in them when I heard something in the room again. The sheets billowed around me as I dropped them in search of the source of the noise.

By the time I could finally see, there was a figure looming over me. I opened my mouth to scream, but a handful of cloth stopped any noise from escaping. I reached forward to fight whoever was clearly trying to abduct me, but a fractured wrist wasn't exactly an asset in a struggle.

Whoever this person was was clearly bigger and stronger than me. I tried to catch a glimpse of his face as I fought to free the fabric from my mouth to be able to scream for help. However, he pinned my wrists down, and the sharp pain in my right arm was enough to cause tears to spring to my eyes. I gasped and tried to cry out in pain, but the cloth blocked all noise.

"Just quit fighting!" a harsh voice whispered loudly in my ear. "I don't want to hurt you anymore than I have to."

I would have snorted if I could have. Good to know he didn't want to hurt me "anymore than he had to." My legs were useless tree trunks as he attempted to lift me over his shoulder. I couldn't fight him with my legs in casts and my arms pinned down. I struggled against him as best I could, distracted by the sound of his voice. It was familiar.

Pale light came into the room from the hospital corridor, and then suddenly the room was brighter. I heard the door opening and scraping shut, blocking the light out again. I tried to make more noise, trying to wriggle out of the big lug's grasp to see who had entered, but I was already halfway over his shoulder.

There was a muffled cry that sounded like a curse, and I was dropped unceremoniously back onto my bed. My breath was knocked out of me, and the jostling hadn't helped my mending bones, but my arms were free. I tore the cloth from my mouth and took in a lungful of air with which I was planning to scream.

Before I could, a hand covered my mouth. "Shh. Don't! It's fine now. It's fine."

This voice was much easier to recognize. I swallowed my shriek and squinted at the features I could barely make out in the lack of light. I heard him fumbling and then the bedside lamp was switched on, flooding the room in a soft light.

I blinked at Malcolm. He still had his hand over my mouth and was staring at me in concern. On the floor behind him, I could make out a large form dressed in black. He had fallen with his face away from me, so I still couldn't tell who it was. I looked back at Malcolm who didn't appear to be prepared to move his hand. I did the first thing that came to mind. I licked his hand.

"What the—eww!" Malcolm pulled his hand away as quickly as he could and wiped it against his pants. "Was that necessary?"

"You weren't moving it. I panicked." I stared at him blankly for a moment before looking past him again to the prone body.

"Elliott," Malcolm said, following my gaze. "I told you he might want to get rid of you."

The words drew my eyes back to him. There wasn't an accusation in his tone. It was matter-of-fact and even a little apologetic.

"Shouldn't we call someone?"

Malcolm shook his head. "It would be a nightmare to explain to the police. I'll take care of him."

"Wait." I felt my eyes widen. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Nooo," he drew the answer out in a long breath. It almost sounded disappointed. "I just hit him."

"And you're sure he's knocked out?" I peered over his shoulder.

"Ye—"

Malcolm's answer was cut off by the same shifting noise I had heard earlier in the night. He spun around in time to see Elliott rise and bolt for the door. He was after him before I could cry out. I pressed my own hand to my mouth to stop the noise and waited, holding my breath. I didn't want Elliott to get away, but he was much bigger than Malcolm, and I was pretty sure he could beat him in a fight.

It wasn't much later that the door was opened again. I was fully prepared to scream if it was the wrong one coming through the door, but Malcolm's face came into view and I let out a sigh of relief.

"He's gone."

He looked rather dejected at having let the bad guy get away, but I had begun to process the explanation for tonight's events. The only real explanation was Malcolm's theory. I couldn't believe that I was actually believing it, but why else would Elliott try to kidnap me, or potentially, kill me? I seriously doubted it was mad love that had driven him to the actions. That would be more flattering, though.

Malcolm made his way to the chair beside me, dropping into it. "Well, I won't leave you alone again with him on the loose." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees expectantly.

When the silence had stretched on for too long, he nodded his head slowly and gave a noncommittal, "Well."

"Well." I repeated and glanced at him. He wanted more. "Okay, fine! I believe you now."

Malcolm smiled, but didn't begin to gloat as much as I had expected. "Great! Now we can get to work. First things first, are you alright? I should have asked sooner. After all, you were just nearly dragged to the top of a building and thrown off of it to, most definitely, your death."

I blinked at him. He blinked back.

"Too graphic?" he asked with a wince.

"Well, I was going to say I was fine."

"I did save you," he offered meekly.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "And the next thing on the agenda?"

He grew more serious at the reminder. "Right. Meg. The other Meg, that is. It's time for you to wake her up."