2. Veronica
2
VERONICA
I wake up to the sound of rushing water grows. I blink the world back into focus. It’s the middle of the night and my head feels like it might split in two at any moment.
I’m shivering like mad and it takes a moment to work out why. The son of a bitch has stripped me down to my underwear.
I look around. I’m on a bridge somewhere, streetlights stretching out left and right, casting cold orange halos down onto the water.
God alone knows what time it is. A metal railing digs into my stomach, biting through my skin. Something’s pressing into me from behind.
“Finally awake,” Marco murmurs in my ear, reaching into my panties and giving my ass a painful squeeze.
I can feel his cock digging into my lower back as he grinds against me. “You know, I fucked you while you were asleep a few times. Meant that mouth of yours wasn’t whining on.”
His voice is calm, like we’re sharing an intimate moment instead of standing over a river that’s clearly ready to swallow me whole.
“I could fuck you right now.” His voice grows gleeful, full of excitement.
“I fight him harder but he just laughs at me. “I always love this bit,” he hisses. “The realization when they know they’re going in.”
My heart pounds as I twist against his grip. “Marco, stop—” The words choke in my throat as I glance down. The river is a void, its powerful currents surging beneath me. I feel dizzy, my legs turning weak as he tips me forward.
“Goodbye, Veronica. Shame we couldn’t work it out.”
My mind flashes to a survival article I read once about cold water. The shock will hit like a punch. Don’t panic. Hold your breath. Keep your head above the surface. Focus.
The wind is howling around us, tugging at my hair, but I force myself to meet his eyes for this final moment.
“Go fuck yourself,” I spit, my voice steady despite the terror clawing at my chest as he grins back at me.
Something flickers in his expression—disbelief, anger, frustration. He wants fear from me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“Could have had something real special,” he says, tipping me straight over the side.
The railing vanishes, replaced by open air and a deafening rush of wind. My scream is ripped from my throat as I plummet toward the freezing river below.
Hold your breath. Kick for the surface. Survive long enough so you can kill that son of a bitch.
The water hits like a brick wall, the impact slamming the breath from my lungs. It’s colder than anything I’ve ever felt, icy tendrils clawing into my skin, seizing my chest in a vice. I clamp my mouth shut.
My body screams for air, but I force myself not to inhale. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. The words echo in my head as I kick desperately, trying to surface.
My arms flail as I fight my way upwards. When I do burst out, I gasp for air, but the river slams a wave into me, choking me with icy water as I sink again.
All of a sudden I just want to close my eyes and rest. Just for a moment. The thought is fatally seductive.
Stay alive or he gets away with it.
I kick up again, using the last of my energy. I glimpse the bridge above, the faint glow of the streetlights.
My muscles ache, my limbs feel like lead, but I force them to keep moving.
Focus. Float. Keep your head up.
The current is relentless, pulling me under again. My vision blurs, and exhaustion creeps into my bones. My chest burns as my lungs scream for air.
I think of Elena. She’ll never know what happened to me.
The thought slices through the haze of cold and pain, hurting more than a knife to the heart ever could. My best friend. My only real friend. Forever wondering where I went.
My limbs grow impossibly heavy. I see the faint glow of the city lights on the distant shore as the deep pulls me down. Slowly, one by one, the lights go out.