Connor opened his eyes and reached for the cable. Cocking his head to the side, he saw a pretty brunette leaning over the cold metal, looking at him as if he were nuts.
“Please leave me alone,” he replied, clearly annoyed by her interference.
“Sorry, mister, but no can do,” she said as she looked at him with pity in her eyes.
He didn’t want her pity, and he sure as hell didn’t need it. None of what he had planned was about gaining any sympathy. He was the one who had fucked up, and he was the one who’d planned months ago how he wanted to end it all.
“Please, just leave me alone.”
“I don’t think so. Nothing can be that bad that you’re going to jump. Do you have any idea how the water alone will break your bones, possibly killing you before you get a chance to drown. Like seriously, it’s not a painless way to go.”
“I don’t need the specifics. I just need you to go,” Connor replied, refusing her attempts at stopping him from taking his life.
“Well, I’m sorry but you’re stuck with me until the police get here,” she said, smiling at him as he gave her a horrified look.
“Oh my God, seriously? You called the authorities?”
“Of course, nothing is that bad in life that you have to end it all. Do you want me to call anyone? A relative? A friend?”
“There’s no one,” Connor muttered as his stomach twisted itself into knots.
“There has got be someone.”
“Afraid not.”
“Then talk to me. I can be a good shoulder,” the girl said. “I’m Molly, and I stood where you once stand. Well, not the exact spot, but I was desperate, too, once upon a time ago.” She was sincere as she spoke.
Connor wasn’t interested in swapping stories. He just wanted to do what he intended to do, but Molly wasn’t having any of it.
“So…what happened? What pushed you over the edge—no pun intended?” she asked as she rested her arms on the steel of the bridge.
Connor stared at the water seventy meters below and closed his eyes. How could he tell a stranger his deepest, darkest feelings? The things that kept him up at night, the stuff that no one knew. How could he possibly let a stranger in on the real reason behind his breakdown?
“You wouldn’t understand,” he whispered as he lost himself for a moment.
He swayed from side to side and felt the urge to jump. A sensation that drowned out the noise from the wailing sirens of the police cars, a helicopter hovering from above and the reasoning coming from Molly.
“Hey… C’mon now, don’t do this,” Molly shouted, trying to get his attention. “Besides, do you really want this all over the news? I mean, take a look. You’re getting a lot of attention—the wrong kind, I might add.”
Before Molly got the chance to continue her ‘talking him down’ routine, an officer approached her. “Excuse me, miss, can you please step aside.”
Molly obliged and retreated back to where the other bystanders stood, gasping, their cameras flashing.
Connor knew some of the footage would end up on YouTube, or flying around other social networks. It was a casualty of the times.
Connor wasn’t impressed with the influx of attention. In fact, he intended on finding the girl who had stepped in, stealing his thunder and turning his world upside down.
How he was going to explain this to his parents was beyond anything he’d planned for. No doubt things were going to be a lot uglier, especially since he was the reason for Ellison Enterprises losing their multimillion merger deal with Lanscorp.
“Why can’t life be fucking simple?” he muttered to himself as officers helped him across the parapet. The flashes of cameras, lights from oncoming traffic and the look of sympathy from everyone who met his gaze made his head ache.
A gun to the head would have been a better option, he decided as he was led to the back of a waiting ambulance and rushed off to the hospital.
All in a day’s work.
Chapter Two
Molly was determined to find out if the mysterious stranger was okay. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep a wink knowing that he was so close to ending it all. This was typical of Molly. She could never walk away from someone else’s plight. That was something she’d learned from spending time with Aggie. In a sense, she was carrying on Aggie’s missionary work, and although she enjoyed it, she found it draining.
Molly jumped into her small car and followed the ambulance, trying her best to look inconspicuous and not at all like a loon, or a journalist desperate for a story.
The Golden Gate Bridge was notorious for jumpers and for some reason each one always made headline news, and this pissed her off more than anything. Even with the call box that led straight to the suicide hotline, there was always a jumper or two who was determined to end their lives. All the attention gave suicide this glamorized image, and there was nothing glamorous about taking one’s own life.
She parked a block away from St. Francis Memorial and walked the remainder of the way. Blending in well with the other vagabonds in her beat-up jeans, checked shirt and messy hair made her feel invisible, and she preferred it this way. She didn’t have to impress anyone and remained completely at ease with her anonymity.
Molly slipped into the ER unnoticed. It was easy. She knew the place well and had spent a bit of time here in her younger days, but preferred to not revisit those times. They were now bad memories, locked away, never to be spoken of.
Molly followed two police officers she recognized from the bridge and continued to blend in with the local surroundings as she eavesdropped outside a side ward.
The two officers walked back out after taking a statement and were followed by a doctor and nurse, both lost in hushed conversation. Peering in through the crack of the door, she saw the man sitting up on the bed, staring down at his hands, as though life had just beaten the crap out of him.
Molly swallowed hard as she pushed the door open and walked in.
“Hey,” she said, twisting her hands in awkward movement.
He glanced up and didn’t seem at all pleased that she was there.
“You!” he muttered. “Thanks for destroying everything.”
“Oh gee, you’re welcome—not,” Molly replied with a tone of sarcasm. Walking over to the bed, she looked at the well-dressed man, taking in his demeanor and the fact that he looked as if he were going to burst into tears at any given moment. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had to call them. I mean, if you had died on my watch, I’d have never forgiven myself.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Nope, I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t value life,” she replied as she reached out her hand to him. “I’m Molly Rice, nice to meet you.”
Connor stared at her, raising his eyebrows. He took her hand and replied, “I’m Connor.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Molly smiled and popped her hands into the pockets of her jeans and felt a little bit odd standing there in front of Connor, who was now looking up at her, observing her every movement.
“So, do you make it a daily thing, saving guys from jumping?”
“Erm, no, but I try to make sure that if I see someone in need, I can help them in some way or another. You just happened to be in my sights tonight.”
“You’re a modern-day good Samaritan, huh?”
“I wouldn’t go as far as saying that, but there was a time when I needed the help of another. Take it from me, there are still some decent people in this world.” Molly smiled. “Anyway, I just came by to make sure you were okay. So, I guess, good luck, and talk—for the love of God, try to talk about whatever is going on.”
Without saying another word, Molly left the room and disappeared. She was content knowing that Connor was in good hands. Her conscience was at ease, which was a huge plus considering her stress levels had been pretty toxic before seeing the handsome guy so willing to jump.
* * * *
Molly stood under the water for a good twenty minutes and washed the day’s events from her. She looked forward to her cup of cocoa and the latest Nicholas Sparks novel. There was something so simple, yet luxurious, about losing herself in a good book and daydreaming. She’d come a long way from the illiterate, scrawny, starving girl Aggie had saved.
As she sat down on her couch, she topped her hot chocolate with a little extra cream and savored the first sip. Closing her eyes, emptiness washing over her, she began to cry. Why? She had no idea, but sometimes, every so often, Molly allowed herself to absorb too much. And given the evening’s events, one would hazard a guess and assume that saving Connor from a rather nasty death had gotten under her skin.
Molly had never intended on being anyone’s savior. In fact, she was so hell-bent on just shuffling through life, remaining invisible to all those around her, that any attention she got made her feel quite disjointed. Aggie had placed much blame on Molly’s parents, who’d failed miserably at raising their only child, leaving her to fend for herself. Of course, Aggie’s opinions weren’t meant to come across as mean, but every so often, being reminded of her damaged roots hurt Molly in more ways than Aggie realized.
Molly let out a long sigh, closed the book and sat in silence, rubbing the tears from her eyes.
“You stupid dork,” she muttered to herself as she tried hard to control the sobs choking her, not wanting to awaken Regina, Aggie’s longtime life partner and now Molly’s main source of support. She hated how emotional she became. She felt like an alien lost in her feelings and despised the fact that she just couldn’t rid herself of her demons, those nasty little picture-perfect nightmares that had scarred her for life.
Life in the Rice household had been far from ideal. By the time she was two years old, Molly had already been admitted into hospital more than seven times. All at the hands of her abusive father who took pleasure in burning his little girl’s scalp with cigarette butts. Social workers had placed her in temporary foster care, only for the courts to grant access to her parents, who in turn continued their tirade of abuse and neglect. Until finally at thirteen years old, she’d run away, taking refuge on the streets.
The way Molly saw it, anything was better than being beaten, made to take drugs just for her father to take advantage of her young body, not to mention her mother, who refused to feed her, often accusing her own child of seducing a grown man.
It was an upbringing that made her recoil from the advances of men. It wasn’t that she was a prude, but trust was something she didn’t give easily. But who could blame her? She had been lost for nearly ten years before Aggie had found her lying unconscious, malnourished and on the brink of death.
Being taken in by a complete stranger and nursed back to health was something Molly would be forever thankful for. It restored her faith in mankind and made her hopeful for her future. Now she was intent on fulfilling her dream—moving from the city and setting up roots somewhere new.
The phone rang and she jolted up straight. “Who in hell?” she complained as she reached for the phone, picking up the receiver.
“Hello?” she said as she sat back on her couch, pulling her blanket around her shoulders. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that, I got tied up… No, everything is good… Jenna, I’m fine. Yeah, I can do that… Ten a.m., on the plaza! Okay, thank you. Goodnight.”
As Molly rested her head back on the cushions, she was thankful to have someone like Jenna in her life. Having a sponsor who cared enough to keep her on the straight and narrow was enough for Molly to accept that there were more good people in the world than bad.
Molly looked over at the picture frame on the side table and smiled. Her, Aggie and Regina together, a huge cake in front of the old white-haired women and pure joy on their faces. That had been taken before the cancer had robbed the woman of her gusto. But Molly smiled. It was a good memory and one she’d take with her wherever she would settle down. “You done good, Aggie,” she mumbled as her eyes locked on the face of her savior, and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep. That beautiful secure place where none of her demons could touch her.
Peace.
Chapter Three
“What kind of stunt were you trying to pull?” John Ellison stormed at his son, who sat at the large dining table, staring into his cold coffee, defeated by life. “What were you trying to prove? Surely you have something to offer me? Life can’t be that bad that you felt it necessary to even consider such an act. Did it ever occur to you that we’d be devastated?” His father’s eyes glazed over, but clearing his throat, he looked away.
“How could you drag our good name into such a scandal?” Connor’s mother, Eleanor, said as she looked at her son with disgust. “We need Patrick to smooth this over with the press,” she said to her husband, who was refilling his glass with Scotch. “Not to mention the damage already done with the failure of closure on the Lanscorp deal. Have you any idea what your childish attention seeking has done? Did you ever think of anyone other than yourself?”
It was bubbling beneath the surface. Anger ready to burst through his seams and he didn’t care. He had had enough. How could he continue living under their rule, having them control every inch of his life? He hated everything his family name represented, and was done.
“I guess I’m done,” Connor replied.
“You’re done?” John scowled at his son. “That makes it okay because you’re done.”
“Yeah, done, as in fuck you, and fuck her,” Connor said as he stood, scraping the chair from behind him as he turned his back on his parents. His outburst was directed at his mother, but he despised his father’s refusal to step up and tell her to pipe down. It had always been this way, his mother being the dominant one, his father the one with a noose around his neck.
“You’re done when we say so, and until then, you’d do well to remember how we’d cut you off in a split second. You’ve got it good, boy, don’t be a fool.” John met his son with a cold glare.
“How can you be so selfish?” Eleanor interrupted John.
“How can either of you call yourself parents?” Connor asked as he shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I even bother sticking around.”