Fever (Breathless #2) Page 9
“Thank you,” Jace said.
Then he gazed around the room at the women huddled on the cots and in the chairs and on the couch. And he tried to control the anger that rushed through his veins.
“You’ll get your heat, Ms. Stover.”
Her eyes widened.
Even as he turned to walk back out to his car, he pulled his cell from his pocket and began to make calls.
Chapter eight
Bethany shook violently as she stumbled across an intersection. It took all her concentration to remain upright. One foot in front of the other. If she fell now, she’d be run over. New York drivers weren’t exactly pedestrian friendly.
She picked up her head, her breath blowing out in a fog and she saw the church just one block down. She was nearly there. A whispered prayer fell from her lips. Please, God. Let them have room today.
Some of the numbness had worn off. Some of the shock had crumbled and reality pushed in. She turned her palms up, seeing the scrapes and the blood. Her pants were torn at her knees and at her hip and there were identical scrapes there, blood slick on her skin. It cemented the denim to her legs, which was freezing on her.
Tears pricked her eyelids. How could Jack have done it? Her vision blurred and she sucked in her breath, determined to make it the last block to the shelter. Even if they could only offer her refuge for an hour, a place to warm up, clean her scrapes and rest her bruised body, it would be enough.
She had no money. She had nothing at all. The cash she’d so carefully hoarded was gone. Jack owed some very nasty people and they’d come to collect. From her. While she’d lain, stunned, on the icy ground, they’d yanked the bills from her pocket. One had kicked her in the side and then they’d left her with a sharp reminder that Jack owed them a lot more and she had a week to come up with it.
She bit her lips as more tears threatened. She was exhausted. She was sick to her soul. She was hurting and so cold and hungry that she just wanted to curl up and die.
Relief made her weak when she reached the door of the shelter. For a moment, she was afraid to walk in because if she was turned away she wasn’t sure she had the strength to walk back out again.
Closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath, she put her hand out and pushed open the door.
She was immediately hit by a warm blast of air that felt so good that she went weak and nearly wilted on the spot. It hadn’t been this warm the last time she’d come. The heat hadn’t been working.
Inside, she could hear the sounds of the other women. They sounded almost . . . happy. And shelters weren’t generally happy places. Tantalizing aromas wafted through her nostrils. She inhaled and her stomach growled. Whatever they were eating smelled wonderful.
She took a hesitant step, allowing the door to close behind her. The warmth was so welcome that for the longest time she couldn’t move as feeling started to return to her hands and feet. It was welcome and very unwelcome all at the same time because with that feeling came pain.
“Bethany, is that you, dear?”
Bethany’s head popped up, her brow furrowing. She hadn’t ever given her name here, had she? She searched her memory but couldn’t place whether she’d ever told the volunteer anything.
But she nodded, not wanting to do anything to lessen her chances of being able to stay.
“What on earth happened?”
The volunteer gasped when she approached Bethany and Bethany winced at the woman’s expression.
“I’m okay,” Bethany said in a low voice. “I just fell. I was hoping . . .” Her throat threatened to close in on her. “I was hoping there was room for me tonight.” Even as she finished, she braced herself for rejection, unable to bear the thought.
“Of course there is, child. Come and sit down. I’ll get you a cup of hot cocoa and you can eat as soon as you warm up.”
Relief was staggering. It swept through her body, nearly toppling her where she stood. Bethany saw warmth and kindness in the woman’s eyes and she relaxed as euphoria set in. They had room for her tonight! She would have a warm place to sleep. And food! It was enough to make her want to weep.
She trudged after the volunteer and frowned as she took in the occupants. There seemed to be more women today than there had been the last time Bethany had come seeking shelter. And there hadn’t been room for her then. Had they expanded? Gotten more beds?
“I’m Kate,” the woman said just as she stopped by a chair pulled off to the side of the others. “Have a seat right here. I’ll get your cocoa and then we’ll work on getting you something to eat. You’ll need to have those cuts looked at.”
“Thank you, Kate,” Bethany said huskily. “I really appreciate this.”
Kate urged her down and then patted her on the hand. “I’ll be right back. Everything is going to be all right, honey.”
Perplexed by the strange promise, Bethany sank into the chair and promptly sagged, all her strength gone. Her hands shook and she curled them into her thin shirt, trying to warm them faster. The cuts stung but they weren’t serious.
Her gaze found Kate as she bustled around the kitchenette preparing the cocoa. She was on her cell phone and it was obvious that whatever she was talking about was urgent. After a moment, she shoved the phone back into her pocket and took a cup from the microwave. After stirring, she brought the steaming mug over to where Bethany sat, and gently placed it in her hands.
“Here you are, dear. Sip it. It’s hot. Everything is going to be all right now. I don’t want you to worry.”
It was the second time she’d offered the blind assurance to Bethany but Bethany was too tired to dig any deeper. If she weren’t so hungry and cold she’d just curl up in one of the cots and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Or whenever they kicked her out again.
• • •
Jace sat in his office staring broodingly at the pile of documents in front of him. It had been two fucking weeks since Bethany had slipped away and he was no closer to finding her now than he had been that first morning. It was not for lack of trying on his part.
Work was suffering. Most of the employees avoided him. Even Gabe and Ash had been keeping their distance. Thankfully, Mia was so wrapped up in her wedding plans that she seemed oblivious to Jace’s preoccupation and surliness.
Christmas was a mere week away and he couldn’t stand the thought of Bethany cold and alone, no bed, no food. Nothing.
He curled his hand into a fist and was tempted to punch a hole in his desk.
His door opened and he was about to snarl out a dismissal to whoever intruded on his privacy when he saw Ash walk in. Something in his friend’s expression stopped his retort.
Ash was . . . well, he was typical Ash. Irreverent. Didn’t give a fuck. Was rarely serious. Today, though, he looked . . . serious. Like he had something on his mind.
“Fuck, is your family harassing you about Christmas?” Jace growled.
There was really only one thing that ever got under Ash’s skin. His family. Ash spent most of his time—and holidays—with Jace and Mia. They’d taken Mia to the Caribbean at Thanksgiving just a few weeks ago to help nurse her broken heart when Gabe had pushed her away—thank God that rejection had been short-lived—but it was true that Ash spent far more time with Gabe, Jace and Mia than he ever had with his own family.
“There’s something you should see,” Ash said in a quiet, serious tone that wasn’t typical for him.
Alarm skittered up Jace’s spine and circled his neck in a chokehold.
“Is something up with Gabe and Mia?” he demanded. He’d kill the bastard if he broke Mia’s heart again.
Ash flopped a folder down on Jace’s desk. “You’ll probably be pissed at me over this, but I’m your friend and this is what friends do. You’d do the same damn thing for me.”
Jace’s eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about, Ash?”
“While you’ve spent the last two weeks looking for Bethany Willis, I’ve been looking for information about her. You need to let this go, man. Walk away now. She’s bad news.”
Heat washed through his veins as he stared back at Ash. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that I should forget about a homeless woman we fucked. A woman we clearly took advantage of, whether we knew it at the time or not. A woman who has no shelter, no food, no damn coat to keep her warm.”
Ash held up his hand. “Just read the goddamn report, Jace.”
“Why don’t you just tell me why you think she’s bad news,” Jace said acidly.
Ash sighed. “She has a prior for drug possession. She hasn’t held a steady job. Ever. She was in foster care most of her life. Graduated high school but never went on to college.”
Jace’s jaw ticked and he stared down at the folder on his desk. Then he lifted his gaze back to Ash, who stood there staring at him. “And you don’t think those are very good reasons to help her now?”
“If you were only helping her, no,” Ash said. “But you and I both know you aren’t just helping her. You’re fucking obsessed with her, Jace. I’ve never seen you like this. You need to snap the fuck out of it. We fucked her, yeah. We’ve fucked a lot of women. Not sure why this one stands out from the rest.”
Jace surged upward, ready to take Ash’s head off when his cell phone rang. He yanked it up, checking the incoming number, but it wasn’t familiar and wasn’t tagged in his contacts. Normally he’d ignore it, but he hadn’t ignored a single call since he’d been searching for Bethany.
“Jace Crestwell,” he said shortly, still glaring at Ash.
“Mr. Crestwell, this is Kate Stover from St. Anthony’s Women’s Shelter.”
Jace’s pulse accelerated and he dropped into his chair, shutting Ash out. “Yes, Ms. Stover, how are you?”
“She’s here,” Kate said bluntly. “She just came in. She’s . . . hurt.”
His stomach bottomed out and fear was thick in his throat. “What? What happened?”
“I don’t know. As I said, she only just arrived. I have her sitting down and I’m making her a cup of hot chocolate now. She doesn’t look good, Mr. Crestwell. She’s clearly frightened and exhausted and, as I said, she’s injured.”
“Sit on her if you have to,” Jace growled. “I don’t care what you have to do. Do not let her leave before I get there.”
He shoved the phone into his pocket and surged out of his chair. As he passed Ash, his friend’s hand shot out to grab Jace’s arm.
“What the fuck, man? What’s going on?”
Jace jerked his arm from Ash’s grasp. “I’m going to get Bethany. She’s hurt.”
Ash swore and shook his head. “This is a bad idea.”
Jace left his office and entered the hallway. He could hear Ash hurrying up behind him as he reached the elevator.
“I’ll go with you,” Ash said in a grim voice.
Jace stepped onto the elevator and when Ash would have followed, Jace put his arm out to block his friend. With his other hand, he punched the button for the bottom floor and then pushed Ash back.
“Stay out of this, Ash,” Jace warned in a soft tone. “It doesn’t concern you.”
Ash’s nostrils flared and his eyes blazed a moment. Jace knew it was a shitty thing to say, but then Ash had been pretty shitty himself.
“Yeah, you’re right. You don’t concern me at all,” Ash said, heavy sarcasm laced in his voice.
He pushed back from the elevator allowing it to close, his lips tight as Jace disappeared from view.
Chapter nine
Jace ordered his driver to the shelter and told him to step on it. He couldn’t be certain that Bethany would stick around, and he wasn’t about to take any chances. Not when she’d already disappeared on him once.
Kate had said Bethany was injured and his mind was filled with images, none that were good. They hadn’t gotten into specifics. Jace had been too impatient to get to her. How the hell had she gotten hurt?
A woman alone on the streets . . . There were 1,001 ways for her to get hurt and every one of them made Jace’s gut clench.
When his car pulled up in front of the shelter, he directed his driver to wait. Hopefully he wouldn’t be long, but he was prepared for anything.
He strode toward the entrance, the wind biting through his coat. When he opened the door, his gaze immediately swept the room, searching out Bethany. Then, finally, he saw her. In the back. Off to one side, away from the others. She was sitting in a chair, pale and looking lost. Still, he drank in the sight of her, relieved beyond words that she was here. He could see that her pants were torn at the knees and on one side. He could also see the bloodstains on her clothing and the raw scrapes on her elbows. What the ever-loving hell?
Before he could start over, Kate stepped in front of him, her face creased with worry.
“Will you be taking her with you, Mr. Crestwell?”
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