Dark Savior: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Read Free

minutes.
    “Oh, for fuck sake,” I hiss.
    I look over to her. Her head is even lower now, and her body appears to be shaking in violent spasms.
    She’s crying.
    At least that’s what I think is going on. She’s still far enough away from me that I can barely recognize her features. I have only seen the profile of her face, her long hair covering most of it as it flies around in the wind. She might be a young girl or a fifty year-old woman, fuck knows.
    One thing I do know, and it’s that this is getting ridiculous.
    I let out an irritated growl and unfasten my seatbelt. Maybe all she needs is a little push.
    She doesn’t even flinch when I noisily slam my car door after stepping out of the driver’s seat. Either she really didn’t hear me because she’s too absorbed by her own anguish, or she chose to ignore that someone else is here.
    That someone is marching up to her now. I approach her with wide and deliberate steps, turning around to scan the street behind me. Nothing. No car, no random stroller or cyclist. A 360-degree rotation reveals nothing but the vast and empty wasteland that surrounds us. While the canyon itself is a beautiful sight, the area surrounding it couldn’t be uglier or more uninviting. Maybe that’s why no one has ever built a lodge here or dares to bring busloads of tourists to scope it out on a daily basis.
    As I get closer to her, I realize she must be rather young. Younger than me, that’s for sure. She could even be a teenager. Oh, fuck no. I’m not pushing a kid off this bridge.
    I’m only about ten feet away from her when she finally lifts her head and turns around to look at me.
    Strands of blonde hair are sticking to her face where it has been dampened by tears. She looks up at me through dark, hollow eyes, her mouth partly opened as if she was about to speak. Her eyes connect with mine, but she doesn’t seem to react to my presence or even act as if she knows I’m here. For all I know, she looks at me with the same facial expression that she’s been casting down into the canyon.
    As soon as we make eye contact, one thing is obvious. She’s devastatingly beautiful.
    My heart literally skips a beat when I’m faced with her crushed expression. She looks so fucking vulnerable, so sad. She looks to be in such horrible agony, and it cuts into me like a cold dagger.
    I freeze mid-motion when our eyes meet, locked onto each other for a few seconds with nothing but the wind whipping around us. I fucking don’t know what to do. She’s young, but not a kid. She may be eighteen, or twenty, in her early twenties at the most. Younger than me, but not a kid.
    Fuckable. So damn fuckable. And so overwhelmingly beautiful.
    Oh, for God’s sake! I need to get a grip on myself. I have things to do, and she’s keeping me from doing them.
    She needs to leave, and it would be best if she left the way she intends to. Who cares about those eyes? Those damn beautiful eyes that are way too dark for her ash blond hair.
    I shouldn’t care. I can’t afford to care.
    I clear my throat.
    “A jumper, I see.”
    She doesn’t react, but just looks at me, watching me with those freakishly dark eyes.
    I avert my gaze and nod toward the abyss beneath us.
    “Here to end it?” I ask, speaking with a soft voice, as if I was afraid that my words alone would make her jump.
    She should jump, damn it. Now that she has seen me, she has become nothing but a troublesome witness. It would make things so much easier for me if she just jumped. Beautiful or not, she just needs to jump.
    I look around, scanning the area once again. We're still alone, miles and miles of vast nothingness around us. If a car were to come by now, I'd definitely have to come up with another plan. Every minute that passes increases the risk of that happening. I have to speed this up.
    But I'm not prepared to console a suicidal girl. I have no idea what to say to her because I don't even know what I want the outcome to be.
    "Look," I say,