Page 16 of Cruel Hearts

Dead people don’t answer their phones, but Stella’s breathy voice fills the line. She’s been running, and she pants. “Hello?”

My cock hardens. She sounds how she used to when we made love. How she’d breathe into my ear as I rammed into her, trying to find some kind of comfort, a tiny sliver of peace.

Little did I know that after we met, I wouldn’t have to try so hard.

I didn’t have to try at all. She gave me whatever she could, whenever I asked.

“Meet me at your apartment.” I disconnect the call.

I should at least find out what she has to say.

Then I can do my own dirty work.

Hal thinks I’m weak, but I can break her neck just as easily as she broke my heart.

I drive myself to Stella’s apartment.

After she left, I bought her apartment building. I didn’t want them cleaning out her things, and I didn’t want to lose the one place where I felt like I could be myself. Where I was wanted for who I am, not what I am or what I could do for someone.

I lost count of the number of times I came here and sat on Stella’s worn couch, made coffee I sipped out of her chipped cups. I started sleeping here, crying into her pillow. Those were dark days, and I’m grateful Nigel saw me through the first six months of Stella’s betrayal. It took another six months for Stella’s presence in the apartment to fade. When it felt more like me than her, if that makes any sense.

Cardello had let her collect a few things. The first time I came here, close to losing my mind, I noticed the picture of her and her foster mom, Maryanne, was missing. I wasn’t familiar with her apartment well enough to know what else she brought with her.

She didn’t plan on coming back.

Stella didn’t bring any of the clothes Zarah bought her. She even changed out of the gown she wore to the party, and the skirts, blouses, and dresses still hang here, five years later, undisturbed.

I sit on her couch, impatiently waiting. Maybe she won’t come, but I was counting on her wanting to speak to me. Forty-five minutes after I called, she opens the door. She’s covered in blood, and thinking she’s been hurt, my heart leaps, but the way she held Quinn in the security footage flashes in my mind and I tell myself to get a grip.

Stella’s eyes are bloodshot, and tears wet her cheeks.

Her gaze darts around the apartment. Her throat works, but no sound comes out of her mouth.

It’s surreal seeing her in person when all I’ve had of her has been on the other side of a computer screen. The coppery scent of blood permeates the air, and strands of her hair are crusted init. She’s still beautiful. I don’t think she could do anything to her appearance and not always be so.

At least, not to me.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask, standing.

Warily, she nods.

“What is it?” I go with Hal’s speculations. “Cardello beat you? You needed to escape, but once you did, you realized you had nowhere to go? You thought you’d try to pick up where we left off? Did you leave your children behind?”

Her lips part, and tears fill her eyes. I harden my heart. I can’t love a woman who would abandon her children to protect herself.

“I...I need to give you something,” she says, reaching into a purse at her hip, bright red blood popping against the white leather. She pulls out a black, shiny object and holds it out to me. Her cheeks are pale and her eyes glass over. She’s going into shock.

“Stella?”

Her hand trembles, but she doesn’t step closer. She’s scared of me, and she should be.

I walk across her little living room and reach for what she’s offering me. It’s a flash drive, and I turn it over in my hands.

“It’s all there,” Stella whispers. “I’m sorry.”

I should let her go, but someone is trying to kill her and they’ll have an easy job of it if she leaves now. I shouldn’t care, but being near her, being this close to her, it’s like seeing a ghost, and I can’t let her leave. Not yet.

“Wait.”

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