Chapter 42

Forgot your meds, didn’t you, John?

His heart jumped, his stomach rolled, and the bridge under John’s feet moved in an impossible sway. He just wouldn’t look. He’d just stand, staring blindly at the open sky, and grip the railing like his life depended on it.

Blue, blue, baby blue.

“Hello, John.” John didn’t get the chance to reply. The spectre of Logan caught his wrist with a hand too big, and an unimaginable grip, and John was yanked as if he were as light as paper. “Ready?”

His feet left the ground and John screamed. “No! Logan, no!”

Logan lifted his face, smiled slowly at John, and then shook his head. “Too late.”

He was pushed at the railing, and he doubled over it with an “Oof!” There was a scuff of a sneaker on concrete, a rustle of fabric, and Logan flew. To call it a jump would have been ridiculous. To ponder the difference was pointless. And still John found himself doing it even as he was tugged alongside the falling boy. “Not now,” John cried. “Not after all this—”