We inched across the bridge as carefully as we’d made the first trek to the middle. My heart thudded in my chest, which was a shock to me. I’d been in trickier situations than this before. That’s when I realized that it wasn’t my own safety I was nervous about—it was Delaney’s. The idea of something happening to her was enough to make me sick to my stomach. And as we moved across the bridge, I vowed that I wouldn’t let either one of those goons lay a single hand on her.

“Good boy,” said the goon on the far end of the bridge as we approached, a cunning glint in his eye and a shark smile on his face.

He tossed the machete from one hand to the other, looking ready to use it at the slightest provocation. As we approached the end of the bridge, he held out his hand, ready to grab onto Delaney. But I glared at him hard and spoke.

“Neither of you touches her,” I said. “New addition to the deal.”

The man shot daggers at me, waiting to see if I’d flinch or lower my eyes. But I didn’t back down. He shrugged, likely realizing it was less hassle for me to have my way. Once Delaney and I stepped off the end of the bridge and onto the ground, the man waved to the shaved-head goon, letting him know it was safe to come across.

“You’ve been a real pain in the ass for us, Gable,” the goon said, glaring at me with narrowed, mean little eyes. “You’re lucky this girl’s worth so much goddamn cash or I’d have a good mind to toss both of you down into the river for causing us so much trouble.”

I snorted.

“I’m still wondering what the hell you’re gonna tell your boss when you bring this girl to them and they realize it’s the wrong one. Might dock your pay for that little screw-up.”

The goon reached into his wallet and pulled out a small, black-and-white picture. It was of Delaney walking into the hotel in Longbridge.

“That’s the girl we’re getting paid for,” he said. “Looks pretty freakin’ close to me.”

“Then the screw-up goes all the way up the ladder, I see,” I said.

“Just shut your goddamn trap, Gable,” he said.

I glanced over at Delaney. Her eyes were still wide, her mouth tight and flat. Her hand shook in mine, and I held it firm to keep her calm.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“Just stay calm,” I said. “I’ve got this.”

“So damn sure of himself,” said the goon.

He waved to the shaved-head thug on the other side of the bridge, who was already on his way over. I knew that I needed to time this right—one misstep might be all it would take for both of us to be sunk.

“Just hand her over,” he said. “You’re gonna have to eventually. Might as well do it now.”

I said nothing, instead glaring at him hard and making it clear that my terms weren’t up for debate. He snorted as he realized that I wasn’t going to budge.

I glanced back over my shoulder and watched as the shaved-head thug moved closer and closer still, now near enough to see the yellowed teeth in his jagged smile.

“Justin,” Delaney whispered.

I could only imagine how afraid she was. Desperately, I wanted to tell her exactly what I had in mind, that she didn’t need to worry about a thing. But for now, all I could do was hope that she kept calm.

“Grab her!” the shaved-head thug shouted to his comrade. “Grab her until I get there!”

“You heard the man,” said the goon on my side. “Hand her over.”

Delaney shot me another expression of total fear.

“Not going to tell you again,” I said. “Don’t touch her. Unless you want serious trouble, that is.”

The goon gave me another narrow-eyed look before glancing down to Delaney’s arm.

“Just grab her!” the other man shouted out. “No time to screw around!”

“All right,” the man on my side said. “Enough of this bullshit.”

With that, he shot his hand out and grabbed onto the upper part of Delaney’s arm. She let out a gasp as he touched her.

“Now,” I said. “What did I tell you about touching her?”

“Screw you,” he said.

“Wrong answer.”

One more look over my shoulder let me know that the shaved-head goon was right where I wanted him still on the bridge. I turned my attention back to the thug holding Delaney’s arm and made my move. With lightning-quick precision, I jabbed him hard in the stomach, his eyes shooting open with surprise and the air escaping out of his lungs with a deep “Oof.”

Delaney’s arm slipped out of his grasp, and her eyes locked onto mine.

“Run!” I said.

“No way!” she responded.

I didn’t have time to argue; the thug I’d just hit tried to steady himself, but a knee to the breadbasket knocked the rest of the fight out of him. He dropped to his knees, the machete falling out of his hand and into the dust with a soft thud. One more kick to the face sent him flying backward and landing in a heap of unconsciousness.

“Gable, you prick!” shouted the shaved-head thug, now brandishing his machete with deadly intent.

Fire boiled in his eyes, and he looked so angry at that moment I wondered if he just might kill the both of us. He cut the rest of the distance across the bridge, toward Delaney, still frozen in place. He took a swipe through the air with his machete, the attack aimed at Delaney.

Everything moved in slow motion.

The blade moved in a slow arc, a look of panic on Delaney’s face as she realized what was happening. I dashed toward them, hoping to get there in time. But before I could close the distance, the blade whizzed by Delaney’s head.

But it missed, slicing off only a thick chunk of her hair.

That, however, was far too close for me. I reached Delaney and put my body between her and the goon. He swiped with the machete again, this time slicing through the fabric of my shirt and cutting just across my skin. The wound cried out, a hot, stinging pain coursing through my body.

No time to worry about that now, however. I moved closer to the goon, leading us onto the bridge and away from Delaney. I used small attacks to force him to keep backing up further on the bridge. Suddenly, the thug lunged forward with a stabbing motion, but I was too quick. The blade whizzed past me, and I took the opportunity to drop an elbow into his back. He let out a grunt before recoiling and preparing for another strike.

“Justin!” shouted Delaney.

“Stay back!” I replied.

“You should’ve done what I said!” the man shouted. “Now I’m thinking I might have a little fun with her when I’m done with you. Least I could do, what with you putting me through all the bullshit.”

That was all I needed to hear. The man made another jab, this one stopping in midair. Delaney let out another scream at this, but I ignored it. Striking down with a fist, I slammed into his hand, causing him to drop the machete. It bounced on the slats for a moment before slipping through and falling into the river.

Now it was time to end it.

I drove my palm into the goon’s surprised face, hitting him hard and sending him stumbling toward the railing. Dazed, he grabbed onto the rail for a moment before his grip slipped. A look of surprise on his ugly face was the last thing I saw before he fell backward and down into the river, a scream echoing through the canyon.

The fight was over. But now a horrible, shooting pain took hold of me. Glancing down, I saw with horror that the man’s last stab didn’t stop randomly in mid-air—it stopped because he’d gotten me right in the leg. Pain ripped through me, blood pouring from the wound.

“Justin!” Delaney cried out.

I felt light on my feet, my vision blurring. I could barely make out her figure at the end of the bridge. Waving my hands, I gestured for her to stay back, to not chance coming toward me. My leg buckled underneath me, and I grabbed onto the rope for support. But between the pain and the blood loss, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay standing for long.

I took the bridge one slat at a time, getting closer and closer to Delaney. I wanted to hold her, to let her know she was safe, to tell her it was time to get back and finish our journey. But my thoughts became muddled. Then, my hands slipped off the rope.

Delaney screaming my name was the last thing I remembered as I hurtled through the air, landing hard in the raging waters below.