Page 12 of Cruel Hearts

“Okay. Stella...I—” She turns the key in the ignition, killing the engine. “I’m glad you came back. I...I hated you, a little. For disappearing. For running off to Italy without saying goodbye. I hate what you went through, but I’m glad you didn’t do that to me. I’m so selfish.” She wipes tears off her face.

“Quinn, no. I’m sorry. I should have gotten word to you, somehow, but I wasn’t thinking about anything but survivingthrough the day, and the next, and then the next. If I would have tried... You don’t understand. Ash Black is a dangerous man. He and his father have power you can’t even imagine. It took five years of planning to get away.”

“Yeah. I’m selfish. You lived through hell, and I’m pissed you didn’t say goodbye. I’m such a bitch.” She sniffles.

I rest my hand on the curve of her jaw. “You came when I called.”

“Of course I did. I had no choice.”

“That’s what counts. Come on, let’s get this done.”

“What if Zane doesn’t believe what’s on that drive?” Quinn asks, unbuckling her seatbelt and voicing my worst fear.

Swallowing back a sob of despair, I choke out, “Then there’s nothing left. The Blacks can keep doing what they’ve always done because they’re working with the very people who are supposed to be stopping them.”

“Then will you give up?”

Nodding, I whisper, “Then I’ll give up.”

I push out of the sedan. I’ve never needed a parking ramp. When I worked for Maddox Industries, I didn’t have a car. Quinn parked on the third tier, and we ride in the little glass elevator to street level.

It’s hotter than hell outside, and my dress sticks to me.

My heart thrums. Hopefully, this will end it. Probably not for me. Ash, or someone who works for him, will hunt me down and won’t stop until I’m dead, but Zane will know the truth. It’s too much to ask he would protect me in return for the information. Hell, he could even do what Quinn suggested. He may not believe what’s on the drive and accuse me of lying. I could be endangering my life, and Quinn’s, for nothing.

Because Zane is too blind to see the truth.

We stand near a small group of pedestrians at the corner and wait for the light to change.

Quinn smiles. I don’t deserve her helping me, sheltering me. I try to smile back, but the light turns green and she nudges my shoulder. The countdown on the streetlight begins—we have thirty seconds to cross the intersection.

It’s a beautiful, sunny day. Too hot, but I remind myself to store the heat in the marrow of my bones...I have many cold, desolate years ahead of me.

We reach the middle of the crosswalk, and I try think of what to say to the security guards. Maybe one of them will remember me, but if not, I’ll need to lie. I don’t have any business in the building, but they don’t know that. I sigh and wince. Before we left, I forgot to ask Quinn for more ibuprofen, and every breath stabs pain into my ribs. Sweat prickles my skin adding to the discomfort.

Several people are crossing in both directions, and while I don’t make eye contact, I try to look for anyone who may be acting suspiciously. I can’t let someone sneak up on me again.

We’re almost to the other side, and Maddox Industries towers above us, majestic, made of concrete, steel, glass, blood, and bone.

I focus my thoughts on seeing Zane in person. I haven’t searched for him online, didn’t dare discover the man he’s become. Did he grow up from the little boy who cried on my lap, grieving his parents, into a heartless and cruel man? Or did the pain turn him compassionate and kind, taking after his father? He’s almost thirty-one years old. Does he have a wife? I swallow. Children?

It breaks my heart another woman is living the life promised to me in soft whispers in the dark after making love. I stumble, tears blinding my vision, and Quinn bumps into me.

A loudpop!echoes through the air. Her body presses into mine, and I ignore the unfamiliar sound and turn to apologizefor my clumsiness. I part my lips as she crumples to the ground, the pavement sizzling under the unrelenting sun.

Chaos breaks loose and people around us start to scream, but I stand, frozen. Quinn lies in the street, bleeding, the wound too close to her heart. I drop to the scorching pavement and pull her to me. An anguished howl tears out of my throat, and I keen to the bright blue sky, the hot, black asphalt burning my legs, little rocks digging into my skin.

Pedestrians run toward the building, and I'm all alone in the middle of the crosswalk, holding Quinn to me, her blood, sticky and sweet, soaking my dress.

An ambulance wails, and a squad car, siren blaring and lights flashing, careens toward us.

I’m lost in a storm of grief and fear. That bullet wasn’t meant for Quinn.

Ash will do whatever it takes to keep me from seeing Zane.

The ambulance parks near us, and paramedics dressed in crisp black jump out of the back. They lift Quinn off the ground, intending to lay her on a stretcher, but she grabs my arm and tries to speak. Her lips move, but nothing comes out.

I lower my head to hers, tears dripping off my chin.

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