Chapter 6

"That earring," Haylee said, her voice cutting through the tension. "I' ve never seen it before. It' s so... unique. Where did you get it, Joslyn? Brighton didn't give it to you."

It was a direct accusation, wrapped in a veneer of innocent curiosity.

"You slut," Brighton hissed. "You've been cheating on me this whole time."

He lunged, not at me, but at my head. His fingers dug into my hair, yanking me up from the floor. He searched my ear, his touch rough and frantic.

"Where is it?" he roared. "Where is the other one?"

When he found the earring gone, his rage intensified. He grabbed my torn and bleeding earlobe, squeezing it until I cried out in pain.

"Who is he?" he demanded, his face so close I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Tell me his name!"

I turned my head and spat a mouthful of blood and saliva right into his face.

For a second, there was dead silence. Then, a roar of pure, animalistic fury.

He threw me away from him. I crashed into a pile of rubble, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

"That's it," he said, his voice eerily calm. "That's it. Game over."

He walked towards the edge of the rooftop, where a section of the wall had crumbled away, leaving a sheer drop.

"Bring her here," he ordered his friends.

There was a moment of hesitation. Even for them, this was a step too far.

"Did you hear me?" Brighton screamed. "Bring her to me now!"

Mark, the one who had shown a sliver of concern, spoke up. "Brighton, man, this is crazy. You can't."

"She's a liability, Mark," Brighton said, his voice cold. "She knows too much. She tried to kill Haylee."

"Don't worry, Brighton," Haylee said, ever the protector. "I won't press charges. We can just... let her go."

Her words were a subtle command, a green light. Let her go. Off the roof.

The friends, trapped between their fear of Brighton and the law, chose their allegiances. They dragged me, kicking and fighting, towards the edge.

The wind whipped at my face. I could feel the nothingness just inches away.

This was it. He was going to kill me.

The last of his sanity had been burned away by Haylee's lies, leaving only a hollowed-out shell filled with rage and paranoia.

He stood over me, a dark silhouette against the faint city glow.

Haylee moved to his side, placing a delicate hand on his arm. A gesture of support. A final push.

He looked down at me, his face a twisted mask of hatred.

"Goodbye, Joslyn," he whispered.

And then, he pushed me over the edge.

I fell into the darkness, a single, desperate scream tearing from my throat.

Below me, I heard Brighton's voice join mine, not in triumph, but in a raw, horrified cry. "Joslyn!"