Page 54 of Cruel Dreams

I walk through the lobby, and the Crowne’s manager rushes toward me and rattles on about improvements to the ballroom. Tactfully, he asks when the hotel will open to guests, but reopening the hotel is the last thing on my mind. Putting off any more of his questions, I excuse myself and stride to the rear of the hotel just as my black SUV stops in the parking lot. I hold the door of the staff’s entrance open, and Mel helps Stella into thehotel. She’s still limping, and a cast covers her right arm from her hand all the way to her elbow.

She wiggles her fingers at me and smiles ruefully. “I can’t seem to stop getting hurt.” There isn’t any censure in her voice, no recrimination, but the words sting all the same.

Wincing, I ask, “How are you feeling? Do you need to go back to bed? I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes, if you’re up to it.”

“I’m okay. They gave me a pain pill at the clinic.”

Mel meets my gaze. “Did something happen?”

“No. I just want a few minutes alone.”

“Okay. I’m going upstairs to take a nap. I can’t wait to head over to the governor’s mansion.”

Ash kept the gala’s venue a secret, and social media speculated like crazy where the dinner and dance were going to be held. Yesterday, in a splashy announcement,Truth or Darespilled the news online. The location surprised me, and I worried about what that would do to our plans.

Banks only shrugged. “If he’s in it up to his eyeballs like his daughter, the evening will be interesting, to put it mildly.”

I hold Stella’s hand and lead her into the solarium. On a chaise lounge out of the sun, she lies on her back, and I lie on my side and curl into her.

“I’m sorry about all this.” I sound miserable, pitying myself, like a pathetic son of a bitch.

Stella only runs her fingers over an obscene amount of scruff. She likes it, though, scraping her fingernails through my short beard. The rasp scratches between us, itchy and uncomfortable like the situation.

Trying to smile, she asks, “Why? You’re not doing it.”

She’s not wearing her glasses or her contacts and I fall into the blue like I always have. Once the news comes out she’s still alive, her fake death won’t look good. I think under thecircumstances the DAs office will understand and offer leniency. On the off chance they press charges, I’ll hire the best attorney to defend her.

“Yeah, I am. Do you ever wish I never promoted you?”

“Sometimes, but then I wonder how long Ash and Clayton would’ve gotten away with what they’re doing. How many other girls has Ash sold? For how long? He could have sold Zarah for years. Clayton would never have paid for killing your parents. Maybe this was meant to be.”

Her words give me a slight sense of solace and I relax. My body aches like I have the flu. I’ve been under so much stress, so much tension, that letting myself loosen up is painful.

Stella burrows into me, and I rub my fingertips over her cast. The doctor had a sense of humor, and the plaster is colored a bright pink. Tiny specks of glitter sparkle in the sun.

“Was it terrible?” I’m exhausted, but it’s not over. Ash’s and Clayton’s tentacles reach everywhere, and I hope the FBI can cut them all off and let us live in peace.

“I feel sorry for the women,” she says, her voice soft and full of sympathy. “They were just trying to survive. Ash used their desperation, and by the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. He wouldn’t let them go. I wish there was a place they could have gone. Women have nowhere to turn if they have no money, no education, no safe place to sleep.”

“We can set something up, Stella...after. An outreach program, maybe a low-income housing facility so they don’t have to worry about rent while they go to school or find jobs. Daycare assistance, if they have children. My dad wanted to go into nonprofit. We can do that in his and my mom’s memory.”

She grips my hand. “I would like that. I always felt that way, you know? The money I earned in payroll, it was alwaysjustenough. But what if I got sick, or I broke something and I couldn’t work?” She raises her cast as an example. “I was alwaysone small emergency away from being homeless. Quinn and I fit right in with those women, Zane, and it scares me.”

I brush my lips across her forehead. “My mom’s and dad’s deaths taught me we’re all a couple of steps away from desperation—there are only different kinds. The day I met you, I was at rock bottom. It’s not such a long drop for anyone, it doesn’t matter how much money you have. You don’t have to feel that way anymore, financially or emotionally. I will always be here for you, in whatever way you let me, and we’ll do something to help women in those kinds of situations so they don’t have to feel like that, either.”

“Thank you.” She presses her face into my chest, and I wrap my arm around her, breathing in the light scent of vanilla. I doze, and I think she fell asleep too, but she lifts her head. “I’m sorry about Nathalie.”

“I am too, but I warned her Ash is dangerous. He told her he’d take care of her, and she believed him.”

“Did they find her body? Douglas went to the shipyard this morning.”

“Yeah. He was there when the divers pulled her up. The water hadn’t done much damage yet, and he was able to identify her. I doubt Ash will bury her. I’ll give her a service and buy a headstone for her grave. She deserves that, at least.”

“Another one of Ash’s victims,” she whispers.

“Yeah.”

“I know you cared about her. You don’t have to pretend you didn’t for my sake.” She sounds sad, and I wish with everything I have that the past five years never happened. That I hadn’t let them happen.

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