Page 60 of Cruel Hearts

Max watches us and asks, “Are you sleeping together?”

Denton drops his hand and leans away. “No. It’s hard to find people you can trust, and Stella’s been through a lot—more than you know. I care about her, but not that way.”

Max nods, but I can tell he doesn’t believe him.

For his own selfish reasons, Denton’s protective of me. He wants Clayton behind bars for murdering Kagan and Lark, and he knows he has a better chance of that if I’m helping him. He’s not the traitorous asshole I thought he was, and it’s nice to know someone cares about me. Even if it is self-serving.

No one has ever cared about me or given me love if there hasn’t been something in it for them. Even Zane was drawn to me because I didn’t care he was rich. All I saw in him was a lost little boy who needed me. He wanted the comfort I could give him, and he gave me love in exchange for acceptance and compassion.

He was able to throw it away fast enough.

I swallow the pills and the tepid beer, and the warmth of the alcohol runs through me.

“Let’s find you somewhere to sleep,” Max says, and he leads me to a small, dark bedroom. The comforter and sheets on the queen bed are messy, but I’m too tired to care about sleeping in someone else’s bed and he doesn’t mind when I crawl in wearing my dirty clothes.

“Where will you sleep?” I ask, my eyelids already drifting shut.

“Richard and I will figure that out. Get some rest. No one knows you’re here. You’re safe.” Max shuts the door but leaves it cracked.

His and Denton’s voices float to me down the apartment’s short hallway, but I can’t hear what they’re talking about.

The next morning, over a fresh pot of coffee, Denton tells me I slept for fourteen hours and didn’t wake up once.

I need a shower, badly. I know what you’re thinking. I worry too much about being clean, but the fact is, I don’t like feeling dirty.

I feel dirty keeping secrets I shouldn’t have been keeping.

I feel dirty I worked for Ash, even though I had no choice.

A foster mom once told me if a man is fucking you over, you might as well look pretty while he does it. I was too young to understand at the time, but life is hard, and it didn’t take long to learn the lesson for myself.

During the day, she carried a Chanel bag and wore designer clothes. At night, her husband raped her.

Chin up, baby girl, and put that lipstick on.

Denton and Max do not like my plan to run to my apartment, and Max offers to buy me a few things to stop me from going. That would be the smart thing to do, but I don’t have a thing to my name and picking up some clothes and spending a few minutes in the tiny apartment I had once made a home would give me a little peace.

Denton wants to go, too, but I tell him I can disappear better alone.

Reluctantly, Max gives me ten dollars to pay the fares, and cautiously, I ride the train, this time avoiding the edge of the platform.

I’m a nervous wreck, but there’s no cheaper way to get to my old neighborhood. A taxi would cost ten times what Max gave me. I meld into the crowd, and on the bus, I loop around the city for an extra half an hour.

No one approaches me and I don’t seem to call attention to myself, though a little boy is pushed too close to me on the benchin the back of the bus and he wrinkles his nose. It feels good to smile a little.

I get off six blocks away from my apartment and steal a second to enjoy the sun, the hum of lawnmowers, and the bright, lush flowers in every yard. It fills me with a longing I can’t describe. I want a normal family, the house and the husband who works nine to five. I want the children and the PTA, baking cupcakes, and fun girls’ nights out with my friends.

Besides Quinn, Zarah’s and my brief friendship was the closest thing I had, and I miss her. Denton and I didn’t tell Max about her, but when I go back to his place, we need to brainstorm ways to get her out of Quiet Meadows.

By now, there’s no doubt Ash and Zane know I’ve been to see her, and I don’t want them angry at her for something I did. It hurts like hell Zane let Ash do that to his sister. Having her committed, I mean. He’s not the man I used to know. Well, the man I wanted him to be isn’t the man he is.

I enter through the building’s back door. Zane probably had cameras installed to watch for me, but I’ll just have to do a good job of winding my way back to Max’s. I might need the rest of the day so no one can follow me.

I’m beginning to regret my decision, but the familiar surroundings bring me back to a time when things were simple. When all I was doing was working my way toward a better life and the biggest worry I had was if I could afford the brand name or if I had to buy generic.

There’s no point in wondering what my life would be like if I’d never met Zarah Maddox.

Using the key under the mat that still lays in the hallway in front of the door, I let myself in. The apartment doesn’t smell like me. It smells of vacancy. Loneliness.

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