79. SARA

“I have had just about enough of you, you stupid bitch!” Pearce screams.

I look up just in time to see the barrel of the gun pointing down at me. I don’t think of my own death – I think of leaving Chance. Please God, I can’t do that. Not now.

Suddenly Chance’s body is above me as the world explodes in my ear and my faces is covered in a splash of warmth.

I stumble and manage to get my footing on the rooftop gravel. As I raise my hands, I can see the crimson stain of blood on them.

Chance is in the back of the chopper, wrestling with Pearce’s gun hand. I feel my soul shatter as I catch sight of the flood of red on his back. He’s been shot again!

“Chance!” I shriek, sprinting toward the chopper as Daniel tries to bring it back down.

The two of them tumble out onto the gravel, Pearce rolling around on top of Chance. I bolt to my left and catch Pearce’s right hand in both of mine, taking control of the .45. A hard yank and it goes flying off to the ground.

Chance staggers to his feet just as Pearce’s eyes seem to lose all focus in reality. He tackles Chance at a full run and drives him backwards.

Toward the edge of the roof.

“NO!” I scream. My legs feel like they’re running in molasses, like I’ll never possibly catch them.

They stop at the raised lip that surrounds the building’s roof edge. Chance’s bleeding back is shoved against it, making him grimace in pain as he fights off Pearce’s attack.

“How the mighty have fallen, eh, Chance?” Pearce hollers. “Mighty long way down!”

He’s absolutely lost it now. I finally reach them and grab Pearce’s right hand in a wrist lock. But his manic state has sparked an almost superhuman strength in him, and he manages to break the hold, sending me stumbling backwards.

Next thing I know, he has my hair in his fist and he’s yanking me forward toward the edge.

“Express elevator going down!” he yells.

I try to keep from stumbling, but the disorientation of having my head yanked keeps me off balance. Suddenly I’m standing on the edge, looking out over the downtown Chicago skyline. Pearce uses my hair to pulls himself up so that he’s standing beside me.

“Top of the world, Ma!” he hoots.

He gives my hair one last yank as I grip onto his arm. If I’m going down, by God this fucker is coming with me.

I feel the world tilt and realize I’m too far forward to make it back. I’m going over the edge. A wave of infinite sadness washes over me.

I’m sorry, Chance. I’m so sorry.

Then just as suddenly, I’m flying backwards.

I open my eyes to see Chance leaning back against the lip, gripping onto the metal flashing for dear life. In his other hand is Pearce’s leg. The rest of Pearce is hanging over the edge upside down.

“Little help,” Chance grunts as his grip starts to loosen on the metal.

I pitch forward and grab his arm, bracing my feet under the lip and heaving backwards with everything I have. Every muscle in my body seems to strain as I grind my teeth together with the effort.

“Drop him!” I shout. “I can’t hold you both.”

“AAARRRRRRGGHHH!”

Chance releases the primal howl of a beast in a trap as he pulls himself forward with his good arm, using my leverage to help him get upright. Once he’s there, I grab his bleeding shoulder and heave backwards.

As I do, I see Pearce’s flailing body swing over the lip. He lands hard on his back and flops there like a fish on dry land.

At that moment, Daniel arrives and pulls Pearce up into a chokehold.

“I’ve got him, sir!” he shouts.

Chance weaves on his feet as I try to steady his bulk. He’s lost so much blood!

I sit him down on the gravel and turn to face Daniel and Pearce. My fist makes a satisfying crunch as I thrust it with all my strength into the bridge of Pearce’s nose. He drops to his back, out cold.

“Ambulance!” I shout. “Now!”

Daniel sprints over to the helicopter and fires up the radio as I stagger back to Chance. I try to press his sopping wet shirt against his wounds, but there’s so much blood. So much…

I drop beside him and put my lips to his ear.

“Don’t you fucking leave me, Chance Talbot,” I sob. “Do you hear me? You are not fucking allowed to leave me again!”

I feel his palm against my cheek and grab it, holding on for dear life. He turns to place his own lips at my ear.

“You’re… not the boss… of me,” he husks.

I can’t help but giggle, which turns into sobs, which turns into giggles again.

His head is cradled in my arms, my lips against his forehead, as a siren begins to wail in the distance.