Hostage

The Monroe Party II

Ruby's POV

I ran!

I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop.

The tears wouldn't stop pouring down my face.

I tightened my grip on the hem of my dress, holding it up so I wouldn't fall. My tears blurred my vision and I was on the verge of falling apart.

It was over. And I had lost everything. Everything I fought hard for. The one thing that mattered the most to me.

My life was over. And I was going to end it.

I came to a halt when I got to the middle of the bridge, taking a minute to calm my breathing. I drew in a few shaky breaths and then looked around. This was it.

The world had nothing to offer anymore. I took a deep breath as I pulled off my shoes one after the other. I climbed over to the other side of the bridge, holding on to the railing for support. I drew in a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to do.

There was no going back now. I closed my eyes, feeling another tear drop roll down my cheek. My breath quickened.

I was ready.

I slowly eased my grip on the railing when-

"Stop!"

I gasped.

"Stop!" The figure drew closer. I exhaled. Just the last thing I needed.

A wannabe hero.

"You don't want to do this." He said slowly. "However bad things are, you jump off that bridge, there's no going back."

So, he wasn't exactly a hero.

"There'd be no one to save you. You- will- die" he emphasized on "will."

Asshole!

I took in another deep breath.

"But if you um, if you consider coming over here, I'm sure we can work something out."

I released my left hand from the railing.

"I-If you consider coming over we-" He paused, sudden panic rising in his voice. "We would figure something out. I-I can-" He paused. "I can help."

So he did have a heart

"I can help." He drew closer. "I can help you."

"You know nothing about my life." My voice broke. I felt another tear drop roll down my cheek.

"I'm a fast learner." He stretched his hand towards me. "Don't do this." His eyes were almost begging. I swallowed. "Don't - "he paused." Don't do this. I'm sure there's another way." He continued. I could see him clearly now. His light brown skin shone in the moonlight. He looked about my age. I was seventeen. His deep brown eyes were staring at me, hoping I'd accept the hand he had given to me. My gaze would have gone further if I didn't spot the headlight from an approaching car. I looked at his outstretched hand, his slim brown palm urging me to grab on to it.

He must have it easy.

I faked a smile.

"Who are you?"

"That's not-" He started.

"Your name-" I paused. "What's your name?"

He was quiet for some seconds.

"Jason Monroe."

"Jason Monroe." I repeated after him. "I'm sorry, Jase."

I really was.

"No!"

I jumped.

________________________________________

Jase' POV

She jumped.

Shit!

I raked my fingers through my hair, panic surging through my veins like wildfire. I wanted to scream for help but my voice suddenly felt stuck in my throat.

"Breathe." I reminded myself.

It was happening all over again. Someone else was dying in front of me.

I looked around. I was on the Manhattan bridge and it was One AM in the morning. There was nothing else I could do, no one to help. I could see the headlights from an approaching but it would take too long before it got here. I cursed out loud as I pulled off my shoes hurriedly. Someone had to save her. Someone had to save her fast. I took a deep breath.

And then I jumped.

And it wasn't until my body hit the water that I remembered.

I couldn't swim!

Damn!

I had always been terrified of the water. Never learned to swim. I kicked and kicked as the water found its way into my lungs.

I was drowning! Was I going to die? I was definitely going to die. I was going do die with her.

The water got into my eyes, nose, lungs. It was everywhere and I tried to fight it. I wanted to survive. There was no way I would die at eighteen, no way I would be remembered as Jason Monroe, the rich, spoiled young man who had taken his own life.

But arms felt weaker, I felt weaker. My eyes were shutting close but still, I fought.

I thought about my mom. I had been horrible to her for the past four years. I thought about the horrible words I said to her. All the times I had made her cry.

I wasn't ready to die yet.

But I felt weak. My hands failed me. I couldn't breathe and I finally stopped fighting.

I was dying.

My hands stilled and I muttered a short prayer as I felt my body sink to oblivion . Something about forgiveness. I wasn't sure what exactly it was I said, but I said was sure I said something. My eyes shut close and I felt the water pull my body down. And then a hand grabbed mine.