On Edge

by Gin Price

  Liv’s head snapped up and she tightened her grip on the baton, as if anticipating killing him, too. Okay I wanted someone to help me, but not him. I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying trying to save me.

  “Haze! Run. G-get help,” I yelled and threw a feeble kick at Liv’s ankle. She hopped backwards, easily evading my pathetic attempt.

  My battered foot and tired legs no longer able to hold me up without serious effort, I rolled to my knees and lifted myself to see over the parapet of the roof. Sure enough, Haze stood on the roof of the office supply building beside ours, the one I’d told Surge about. Also the one I’d just leapt from.

  Figures.

  My head lolled back, revolting against the effort it took to keep it upright, but I wanted to see him until my eyes shut down forever.

  I tightened my hold on the rim of the parapet with one hand and reached for him with the other. Haze. My Brennen Craig.

  I saw him turn his head to the side for a moment as though he were trying to collect himself. I could only imagine how much of a mess I looked. My fingers were bleeding all over the place, and I was sure I was smeared with blood too.

  “Manu…”

  “It’s okay.” My voice hiccupped on a sob. “It’ll be okay.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head.

  Liv coiled a hand in the back of my hoodie and hauled me up to my feet, bracing my weight between the roof edge and her body. “This is your fault, Brennen! If you’d just stayed away from her—”

  I could barely stand, so I had no delusions about how easy it’d be for her to shove me to my death. I also knew I didn’t have anything left in the tank to work a little traceur magic and save my ass this time.

  “Emanuella!” I heard my brother yell my name and glanced over my shoulder.

  Liv spun us to face him and cussed.

  “Liv,” Warp yelled, “what the hell are you doing? Let my sister go.”

  “You,” she screeched, “you took Heather from me, once, but this one stays with me.”

  My body jerked as she pulled me toward the roof’s edge.

  “No!” My brother yelled. “Liv, wait, let me explain. Heather and I, that was just a phase for her. She cared about you much more than she did me. There was this time she told me all about—”

  I stopped listening.

  From the corner of my eye I spotted Haze taking a few steps back from the ledge like he was going to try to make the jump. Risky for someone new to parkour and I doubted he’d be able to land faster than Liv could throw me.

  The fact he wanted to rescue me did make me smile. So did my brother’s lies to Liv and my crew’s words of encouragement murmured in the background. Actually, everything made me smile. I guess facing my death made the last few moments of my life seem glorious.

  “Not this time,” Liv was saying. I tried to focus.

  “LL, stay with us, girl.” The crew shouted. Like they all knew I was visiting fairyland.

  My backside rested on the top of the parapet as Liv jumped on top of it and pushed until I hung over the edge. Oh God, oh God. Would it hurt?

  I could see an upside-down Haze, his face scowling with determination, and in the jumble of screams, I heard his command. “Don’t go without her!”

  It took a second for his words to catch, but I got the message in time.

  She dropped her hold on my hoodie and I began the descent, but damn if I was going alone. My gift to my brother and to Haze. I’d kill the girl who killed Heather—and me. I grabbed onto her boot and held tight, closing my eyes as I surrendered to the death fall.

  Twenty-seven

  Something hard nailed my side, and my fingers lost their grip. I should have been falling to my death, but instead an arm coiled around my waist and painfully snatched me out of midair. My spine bent awkwardly, snapped out of motion and I knew I’d have whiplash from hell, but the pain only meant I was alive and safe in Haze’s trembling arms—well arm.

  “Brennen,” I whispered. “How’d you—?”

  “Kong-to-Cat, baby,” he said through gnashed teeth.

  Taking a flying leap over the ledge, he’d snagged me midair before he landed with one hand on the windowpane and the other around me. His legs bore the brunt of the impact and because we were really, really lucky, we lived.

  He blinked several times, fighting to keep the smile on his face through the strain of holding me, or maybe he fought back the emotions of the moment.

  “Jesus Christ, Emanuella.”

  I peered up at the roof to see my brother and crew staring back at me, their eyes rounded with panic. “We thought she—”

  “A little help here, fellas?” Haze grunted.

  Warp and the others scrambled over the parapet, climbing down to where Haze and I hung precariously on a window ledge.

  Once my brother helped me to the fire escape, I looked down at the alley floor.

  Liv lay on the ground, bathed in street light and an expanding pool of blood. Her arms and legs were twisted awkwardly.

  I knew I shouldn’t stare, that I needed to look away instead of searing the image into my brain for life, but I couldn’t force myself to close my eyes. The reality of the situation was far from locked in, and I suspected it would take me a long while to come to terms with how close I’d come to dying.

  Sirens wailed and people came out of the municipal building, some to make sure we were okay, others to threaten us if we didn’t leave, but we barely heard.

  Haze threw his arms around me and kissed all over my face once we were both on solid ground. Warp nudged him aside, but only to get his own hugs in.

  “Ow, shit! Gently, Warp.”

  “I thought you were dead,” Warp said, his voice thick with emotion. “Surge kept calling us all. Haze was closest but even he wasn’t near enough…we all thought…we didn’t know if we’d make it.”

  “I know. I’m all right, though. It’s all over.” I’d tell him anything if it meant he’d let go.

  My brother kept an arm around me while he issued orders to the rest of the guys. “Go wave down the cops, they’re on the wrong side of the block.”

  When the crew scattered, an awkward silence stretched between Haze, Warp, and me. The two of them had been close to violence just a little while ago. How could they start a conversation after threatening to kill each other?

  I eased out of Warp’s hold and limped to Haze, burying my head beneath his chin. I stared at my brother, proclaiming with actions what I was too tired to do with words.

  Warp looked between my boyfriend and me, and then reluctantly nodded his head. “You saved my sister’s life tonight, man,” he said, his voice hesitant but free of venom.

  “I wouldn’t have been able to deal if she’d—” Haze obviously didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t want to think about it either.

  He kissed the top of my head repeatedly, as if reassuring himself that he didn’t dream my rescue.

  “I’m okay,” I whispered and met my brother’s eyes to let him know, too.

  “Liv.” Warp mused. He looked over the edge, probably staring at Liv’s mangled body just as I had. I knew thinking of my ex-best friend as a murderer was hard to process. “She killed Heather.”

  “She shot Wenda, killed Decay, then used his car to run down Surge.”

  “Shit’s messed.” Warp ran a hand over his face, trying to downplay wiping the wetness in his eyes. I reached out and squeezed his hand and he held mine. For several minutes, we all just stood there, too crazed in the head to think or even speak.

  Once the cops arrived on scene and the crew returned, Warp cleared his throat and dropped my hold. “A lot of rumors to set straight to retract the war.”

  “Won’t be easy,” Haze agreed, his words vibrating against my skull as he rested his chin on my head.
It felt good to have him so close.

  “Starts here, I guess.” Warp held out his hand and urged Haze to take it with an up-nod.

  I moved to Haze’s side, so he and my brother could make peace face-to-face.

  “Gotta start somewhere,” Haze said with a weak smile as he shook my brother’s hand.

  ***

  “How grounded am I for this one?” I whispered as Pops rolled me down the hospital corridor toward the exit.

  “You gotta tell me what you mean by ‘this one,’ Emanuella. If by ‘this one’ you mean breaking into the high school, I’d say at least a week. If you’re talking about you lying to me about everything being okay at home, then you’re grounded until you graduate. But I suppose, factoring in your involvement for solving a two-year-old murder and helping a nice family get closure, I guess we’ll call it fair with two weeks.”

  I pursed my lips and thought about that. Two weeks was more generous than I’d expected Pops to be. I imagined the fact that I’d lived through a murder attempt was swaying him a little. “Sounds fair.” I smiled.

  My smile twitched when I noticed who stood beside my dad’s rig. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “He wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “So, is he gonna play good cop or bad cop?”

  My Pops leaned around the side of my wheelchair until I could see his mischievous grin. “You figure it out. Either way, a couple of lectures all week from Ander will keep you in line until your graduation.”

  I groaned, but in my heart I was extremely glad to see my elder brother, no matter the scowl. I couldn’t tell if it was a scowl of worry, or a sign of one of the impending lectures my Pops referred to.

  We neared the rig and Ander helped me out of the chair. Lucky for me, he didn’t chime right in to the “should have told me” rant. Instead, he wrapped me up in his six-foot-two frame and hugged me tight.

  After a moment he stepped back and looked into my eyes, tucking my blue lock of hair behind my ear with a smile. “Way to run the course, baby Sis.”

  His praise meant the world to me. I threw myself back into his arms and cried.

  ***

  We drove up to the circus that was my house. A few news vans were parked outside, ready to swoop down with a ton of uncomfortable questions, on the girl who solved a chilly case.

  Bad enough the media had nearly run my dad’s rig off the road trying to get a personal interview, but now they were going to stalk me at home.

  “It looks like your release from the hospital got passed around the horn.”

  I nodded to my dad and snuggled deeper in the crook of Ander’s arm as we pulled into the driveway.

  Microphones and flashes assaulted me and I was glad for Ander’s support. He pushed and pulled until we were through the throng and safely behind the front door.

  “We’re good. Pops will run them off.”

  “Our appearance here probably doesn’t help. Sorry, Manu.”

  I peeked out from Ander’s chest and saw Haze standing there with his parents. “Brennen,” I cried and flung myself at him.

  When he laughed, I could feel it while he held me. “Hey, there.”

  “I missed you,” I said and backed up a little to peer up at his handsome face. I knew I should probably act more proper in front of his family but I couldn’t help it.

  “And I you. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you sooner. We’ve been a little press-harassed, and we were afraid they’d follow us to the hospital.”

  I nodded. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”

  He smiled and swept a hand toward the couple beside him. “Mom, Dad, this is M—Emanuella.”

  I broke away from Haze long enough to shake the hands of both his parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Craig, it’s very nice to meet you.”

  “We won’t stay long. We understand you’re still recovering,” Mr. Craig said.

  “We wanted to—” Mrs. Craig swallowed and looked up at her husband for moral support. He nodded and she turned to face me again. “All this time we’ve wondered about Heather and who would do such a thing. You’re such a brave girl and we can’t begin to—”

  Her tears brought on my own, and I went to her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I know.” I didn’t want to hear her struggle for words anymore, it was easier to just stand there and grieve together.

  ***

  “I told myself I wasn’t gonna have to fill one of these out, ever,” Surge said and shook his head as he crumpled up a red paper heart and tossed it in the trash. Obviously he was having problems expressing himself.

  I poked him. “Don’t make me cry again. Just focus on the positive, like me. I’m filling this out for one instead of many.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m just glad I signed your cast and not your funeral home visitor’s log.”

  I winced at Surge’s ever-blunt speak and looked down at the cast on my foot. It was broken, but I’d heal and be back on the beam by next season. “Yeah. Thank goodness for that.”

  I signed Decay’s paper heart, blinking back tears. Surge wrapped an arm around me and walked with me to where Haze and Warp stood talking next to the memorial wall.

  In the weeks since the incident, the two of them had become good friends. Haze wanted to be accepted as my boyfriend and Warp felt permanently indebted to Haze for saving my life.

  Whatever kept them from killing each other was fine by me.

  Maybe the violence of the school would ebb, now that two of the biggest groups stood back-to-back in friendship instead of face-to-face in challenge. I sighed and taped my heart to the office window, trying not to notice how little space was left.

  I truly hoped the wars were over because I was pretty damned sick of drama.

  “Hey, hands off,” Haze said to Surge with a grin. His arm replaced that of my best friend’s, and we all walked down the hall to our lockers.

  “Hey Emaneulla,” a student I didn’t recognize called to me.

  His friend said hello to me as well. And another student, and another, until I finally stopped in my tracks. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Popularity comes with heroics.” Haze grinned at me.

  “Yeah, the way I bled all over the place was real heroic.”

  Warp laughed. “No one falls off a building like you do, LL.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said and rolled my eyes.

  “It’s true,” Surge insisted. “You’re a living legend…like a comic book hero or something.”

  “Oh God, make him stop,” I pleaded.

  Warp laughed at me and Haze kissed the top of my head.

  “Lady of the Ledge,” Surge said, putting his love-master voice behind the title. “I came up with that, yanno.”

  “Guess that makes you cool by association,” Warp quipped.

  “Naw, man. I’m just cool.”

  We all laughed, glad to have something to laugh about, and walked down the hall leaving the red paper hearts behind us.

  Author’s Note

  Parkour, and/or freerunning, is near and dear to my heart. I’ve followed the expression soon after it first hit the Internet and researched as much as I could about it for several years. I confess that I am not a professional traceur, just an avid fan. I haven’t jumped head-first into forum and blog debates over what it means to be a freerunner. I wouldn’t dare to presume. With this book, I’m not looking to make any declarations; I’m simply using my love of something real, and making a fictional story from it. Though freerunner tribes in this book are treated as gangs, it is important to me to stress this is a manipulation that gives the finger to truth for purposes of entertainment. It is my hope that within these pages my respect for freedom of movement is clearly stated

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