Page 26 of Cruel Hearts

Like Quinn. I don’t know if she’s dead or alive. I pray to God she’s alive. I pray the hospital is smart enough to post security outside her room. Her shooting would look random though, and the chances of the hospital staff thinking she was someone’s target are slim.

Maybe whoever shot her will let her be and focus on me. I’m the one they were aiming for, after all.

I stifle a yawn and try not to move.

“You’re awake.”

My gaze flies to the man who steps out of the shadows. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and the earthy aroma churns my stomach. “Denton.”

“Hey, Stella, long time, no see.”

Richard Denton looks terrible. I guess being a traitor is a hard choice to live with.

“I’m sorry I hit you so hard last night. If it’s any consolation, the car’s bumper clipped my leg. I got a nice bruise.”

He betrayed Zane and Kagan and deserves everything he gets.

I turn my head, too sore to roll over. I should get up and go but I have nowhere to run, and Maryanne’s death leaves a hole in me so deep it will never go away.

Denton sits on the bed, and I stiffen. Is he going to hit me? Rape me?

“Here. I don’t know how you drink your coffee, but there’s milk and sugar in it.” He holds out the mug, and in his other hand sit three brown pills.

I don’t move.

He blows out a sigh. “I know you don’t trust me. The last time we spoke, I wasn’t...pleasant. But if we could talk—if you could listen and then decide, I’d be grateful. I think we can help each other.”

This close, he looks even worse than he did from across the room. Deep lines gouge into his face, and his hair is almost completely grey. The skin around his neck droops in crepey folds, and his sallow complexion blends in with his hair. He’s gained a lot of weight, or muscle has turned to fat. Either way, it’s not a good look for him.

Having nothing to lose, I slowly sit up. He helps me, securing an arm behind my back. My body odor hits my nose, and I grimace. It feels like forever since I showered in my old apartment.

Denton doesn’t seem bothered by it, carefully handing me the coffee mug and letting go only when my fingers are firmly wrapped around the handle. “Ibuprofen,” he says unnecessarily, pressing the pills into my palm.

I swallow them one by one. The sweet, warm coffee smooths away some of my skittishness, but my hands don’t stop shaking.

“Who wants you dead?” he asks, rising off the bed. He didn’t touch me besides helping me sit up and steadying the mug so I wouldn’t spill coffee all over myself, and a little of the tension loosens in my chest. Not much, but some. He has me all alone and can do whatever he likes. I’m obviously not in a position to defend myself.

I don’t speak. I can’t trust him. Instead, I sip at my coffee and stare at the dirty carpet.

He rubs his hands over his face. The rest of him matches his complexion. His clothes are rumpled. Definitely not the designer suits he wore at Maddox Industries. A dress shirt that has seen better days and khaki pants that are too tight at the waist fray at the hems. His feet are bare.

“If I give, will you give?” he asks.

Glaring at him, I snap, “There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear. You’re a traitor. You betrayed Zane and his father. You’re a disgrace, and you should be ashamed.”

Denton sags into a metal folding chair near a cheap card table. A generic laptop sits on top of the cracking brown Naugahyde.

I look around the minuscule efficiency apartment. Even living alone on minimum wage I did better than this. “Did Clayton Black turn on you? Did you fall out of his favor?” Never once did I hear Ash or Clayton say Denton’s name. I curl my lip. “Why do you live here?”

He scoffs. “Zane cut me out after you took off. Had that English asshole cut me and Cramer right out.”

I lean against the textured cream wall. My head won’t stop pounding. I might need more than three ibuprofen if I want any kind of relief. “Good. It’s what you deserve for being a two-faced liar. You were supposed to be Kagan’s friend.”

Laughing bitterly, Denton says, “And what about you, Miss High and Mighty? You were supposed to be Zane’s girlfriend, but the minute some guy shoves a big cock and a castle at you, you trip all over yourself. Sergio Cardello. Jesus Christ. He’s a good-looking guy, but you already had Zane hook, line, and sinker. How greedy can a woman be? Never mind. I know.”

I tighten my grip on the mug’s handle. This isn’t the first time Sergio’s name has come up. Quinn mentioned him, but I was too set on delivering the flash drive to Zane to acknowledgeit. “I don’t know why everyone thinks I was with him. I barely remember who he is.”

Denton purses his lips. He thinks I’m lying, and I want to fling my mug into his face.

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