My hair continued to whip around my face as I kept my eyes straight ahead. My eyes watered and my vision became blurry. Even for the summer, the wind had a chill to it tonight. Most likely because I was standing over water. Being this high up made the winder stronger. I could barely keep my balance even though the cement was wide enough that my feet fit perfectly.

As fast as my tears were falling, the wind was quicker at drying them. Whatever. It didn't matter. This high up, I couldn't keep them out. I couldn't keep...the voices out.

"You're disgusting." 

"Why are you such a disappointment? ""I wish you would just be normal." "Why can't you be like your brothers?""Your father was right about you." "Just go to your room. I don't want to see your face."

"Hide those fucking scars, Lydia. It's gross..."

I didn't bother shaking my head like I usually did when I tried to get the thoughts to disappear. I didn't cover my ears. Nope. I just stood there. I let them remind me of why I was standing here. At this place, this very moment, I let the voices bombard me.

"You're so pathetic." 

"Why don't you just go cut yourself some more? Maybe this time you'll hit a vein." Did you already make yourself throw up today, fatty?

A sob caught in my throat. How did I get here? Fuck that, I knew how I got here. It all started that night. The one night that changed my life forever. It changed me into someone not fit for this world. As the images of the night in question started to invade my mind, I closed my eyes again, and tried to forget...

The sound of screeching tires and the smell of burned rubber startled me so much, I nearly lost my balance. I wobbled and tried to regain my footing. I looked to the source of the sound, praying to God it wasn't a fucking cop. I did not want to spend the next three days in a padded cell being doped up on unnecessary medication. Been there, done that.

The bright lights of the car blinded me, and I raised my hand to shield my eyes. After several moments, a man got out and started walking over to me.

"Stay back," I called out. My heart started pounding even harder against my chest.

He didn't slow down, though. He continued to approach me and it made me anxious. Nervous. When he started closing the distance between us, I could make out his features a little. He was tall, just over six feet. That was about all I could see from here. He stopped next to me in front of the cement wall I was standing on, and looked out at the water with his hands in his pockets.

"Nice night out."

"What?" I snapped.

He looked at me quizzically. "Where's your pole?"

"My pole?" Was this guy mental?

He shrugged. "Seems odd to be out here, fishing with no pole."

"I'm not out here fishing!" I shot back as I tried to keep my whipping hair out of my face.

"Ah. Sightseeing, then?"

Harsh exhale from me. "Okay, strange random guy, I'm not sightseeing and I'm not fishing. I'm a little busy, actually. So, if you don't mind—"

"Because," he interjected, "if you aren't fishing and you aren't sightseeing, then it doesn't leave much to the imagination of what you're doing out here." When he gave me a knowing look, I turned away from him and didn't say a word.

"Why don't I help you down? We can go get some coffee. Maybe talk about why you aren't out here fishing or sightseeing."

I felt like I couldn't think right now. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I glanced over to the right. Yep, still here. "I don't like coffee," I barked back at him.

He shrugged a shoulder. "Forget the coffee. We can do pretty much anything else—not on a bridge."

The whoop-whoop sound of a police siren had me cursing under my breath as I quickly jumped down from the wall. My heart was thundering in my chest and it felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack. Maybe I should make a run for it? It seemed like a good idea—but my feet wouldn't move.

The sound of a car door opening and closing made it clear the officer was coming over. He shined it at both of us. "What's going on here?"

I opened my mouth to say something, anything to get out of this. But words failed me.

"Sorry officer," strange random guy said, "my girlfriend got mad because I cancelled our trip to the Hamptons this weekend. She freaked out and we pulled over. Right, sweetie?"

He shot me a look and I nodded. Hoping my expression didn't give me away.

The cop shined his light from me to the guy trying to save my ass. "No stopping on the bridge. Why don't you two get in your car and get out of here. Now."

"You got it, boss."

The cop returned to his vehicle, but made no move to leave. Strange random guy looked over at me. "Look, he's not going to leave until we do. Why don't you get in the car and I'll take you where you want to go."

Knowing my choices were a padded room, a cell, or his car, I chose option three. I walked to the passenger side of his car and slid in the seat. Seconds later, his door opened and he climbed inside. We rode in silence for awhile and I kept my gaze out of the passenger window. My mind was still all over the place. My heart still racing.

"So, how about that coffee?"

"You didn't have to do that."

"Do what?"

I looked over at him. "Lie to the cop. You didn't have to do that."

He gave a short laugh. "So, you rather would have gone with him? I don't think that would have gone smoothly."

I turned back to my window, letting out a long breath. This was all just so fucked up. I ran my hands through my hair and pulled it up to put in a ponytail.

"Didn't think so," he quipped. "Coffee then?" 

"Fine, coffee," I answered with a sigh.

I'll get some coffee, thank this guy for the ride, then I won't have to deal with him anymore.

I was sitting in a booth at some random diner while strange random guy was getting coffee for us. When I saw him in the light, I couldn't help but notice how extremely good looking he was. He had dark hair and green eyes. He was wearing an Under Armour shirt and running pants. The outline of his muscles told me he was clearly in shape. Also, there was the car he was driving. Yeah, he was loaded. 

The sound of footsteps drew my attention and I sat up in the booth. He placed a cup of coffee in front of me before taking his seat.

"Thank you," I said softly as I placed my hands on the either side of the mug. The warmth of the hot liquid seemed to calm my nerves a little.

"No problem," he replied with a charming smile as he added cream and sugar to his coffee. "Now, do you want to tell me what you were doing on that bridge?"

Averting my eyes, I grabbed the creamer and poured some into my coffee. "Not really," I answered flatly.

"Fair enough. How about a name?"

My gaze met his. There didn't seem to be judgement in his eyes. Just curiosity. "Lydia."

He offered me his hand. "Sean. It's nice to meet you."

I couldn't hold back a smile as took what he offered and shook his hand.

His grin widened to the point where it probably hurt his cheeks. "See, I got a smile. The nights already improving."

I took back my hand, returning it to the comforting warmth of my coffee mug.

"Well," he started, "since you don't want to talk about you, let's talk about me. I am a thirty-three-year-old software developer. I live alone in the city." He leaned back against the back of the booth and let out a deep sigh. "If I'm being honest...I've been so overwhelmed with work lately. It's just been a little too much to deal with. Not to mention, there's a crazy ex-girlfriend who is basically stalking me."

He laughed at that last part. So did I.

He took a sip of his hot coffee. "Anyway, that's why I decided to head to Atlantic City for a few days. Clear my head."

"And your bank account?" I teased.

He seemed shocked by my attempt at humor and I wanted to take the words back. "Uh, no, actually. I'm not much of a gambler. I used to be when I was younger. I have a suite there at the hotel. It's my little getaway, I guess you could call it."

"I've never gambled in my life." I never even made a bet with a friend.

He gave me an odd look as if he was contemplating something serious. "What?" I asked, unable to stand the silence.

"Do you have somewhere to be?"

Surprised by his question, I stammered, "Uh—I—Well, not really." If I was being honest with him, I would tell him that I lost my job three months ago and, as a result, my apartment. I've been couch surfing with friends lately, but even that was reaching its limit. I mean, I didn't really have friends, per se.

"You should come. To Atlantic City."

Maybe he was insane. "You, a complete stranger, is asking me to come to Atlantic City? With you?"

"With all the shit I've got going on, I can use a distraction. What better way than one friend showing another how to gamble?"

"Friends?" I asked with a half smile.

He shrugged. "I'd like to consider you a friend." He put his hand to his chest and added, "I'm a great friend. I have references."

When I didn't answer, he leaned forward and his elbows on the table. "Look, I know you don't know me, and you can say no and I'll take you wherever you want to go. Or nowhere, if that's what you want. I'll even call you a cab. Or, you can come with me to Atlantic City. I have a suite with three separate rooms, all with locks on the doors. Or you can have your own room, on me. What do you say?"

He sat patiently as I pondered his offer. It seemed insane to get in a car with a stranger. But, then again, I already did that. He didn't seem crazy—well, not psycho killer crazy. I didn't have anything tying me down to the city. No job, no home, no family. Definitely no money. Maybe this was an opportunity for me to make a change in my life. Maybe if he could teach me how to gamble, I might actually win some money and make some changes to turn my life around. What if this was the start of something different for me?

Decision made, I looked up at him. "Let's do it."