Page 57 of Cruel Hearts

Almost drowning rattled me, and if I let it, I can still feel the weight of the water pressing down on me, my lungs burning.

Sitting in the front seat, Denton twists and looks over his shoulder, wanting to comfort me, but he doesn’t touch me. He repeatedly holds out his hand, then, after a moment’s hesitation, changes his mind. The attempt on our lives shook him up, too, but he’s handling it better than I am.

Max’s apartment is on the third floor of an old building, and it’s small, clean, and neat. A cat sleeps on the back of a large nubby chair, and stale coffee scents the air.

“In a couple of days, we should find somewhere else to go,” he says, dropping his keys onto a counter that separates the living room from the kitchen.

I agree. Staying in one place isn’t a good idea, but he’ll find out fast that Ash won’t give up. It doesn’t matter where we go.

“Can I borrow your phone?” Quinn’s cell is at the bottom of the river, and I have no way to communicate. I also lost Zarah’s engagement ring. Good riddance to that piece of trash, but the loss of the only picture I had of Maryanne and me will hurt me for the rest of my life now that she’s gone. There’s no way I can replace it.

In the pocket of his slacks, Denton’s wallet faired okay, but he lost his phone in the car. And, well, you know. The whole car.

Max lifts his eyebrows.

“I have a friend in the hospital,” I explain. I know we need to keep communication to the bare minimum, but I have to check in. I need to be sure she’s okay, and she’ll rest more easily and heal faster if she knows I’m still alive.

He hands over a black cell phone, but I’m at a loss how to use it. His phone doesn’t look anything like Quinn’s out of date Blackberry. The screen glows, and the icons don’t resemble any that were on the iPhone Zane gave me. I press the icon that looks like an old phone receiver, but all that does is bring up a keypad. I don’t know the hospital’s number. I’m too tired to deal with this, and I start to cry.

Gently, Max pulls the phone out of my hand and searches for the number online. I’m not so stupid I don’t know what the internet is, but I didn’t think to use it. He doesn’t give the phone back to me until the hospital operator is asking where she can direct my call.

I ask for Quinn Sawyer’s room. Max hasn’t shown us around yet, and there isn’t anywhere I can talk to her in private. Both men watch me.

“Hello?” Quinn answers, her voice guarded.

Relieved, I sink onto the chair and forget Max and Denton are listening. “Quinn.”

“Stella. Christ. I saw your accident on the news. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. A little shaky, but okay. How are you doing? How do you feel?”

“I have an infection, and I’m on antibiotics. I’m running a temperature and they won’t let me go until my infection starts to clear up. I should still be discharged in a couple of days, though. Don’t worry.”

“Has anything happened?” I flick my gaze to Max and Denton.

Max is in the kitchen making coffee, and Denton’s speaking into a landline phone. I hear him say “pepperoni,” and I hope he’s ordering pizza. I’m too sick to eat, but too hungry not to.

“No. I think whoever’s after you forgot about me.”

“Good. I lost your phone in the river.” I choke back a sob. “And everything else.”

“Stella, listen.” Quinn understands, and she says urgently, “When this mess is over, we’ll go far away, and we’ll replace everything. Do you hear me? We’ll replace everything and I’ll be your family, and there won’t be anything you’ll need or want.”

She starts crying, and pushing my face into the chair’s scratchy material, I hold back my own tears.

Max flutters a tissue in front of me, and I force a wobbly smile of thanks onto my lips.

Sniffling, Quinn asks, “How can I get a hold of you?”

I wipe my cheeks and ask Max, my voice squeaking, “What’s your phone number?”

He’s reluctant to give me the information, but he does, and Quinn writes down both his cell and landline number. “Who do the numbers belong to?”

“A journalist for the paper. He found us at the police station after the cops let us go.”

“Can you trust him?”

“At this point, I have no idea, but I don’t think we have a choice.”

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