Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(18)

“I had a drug problem in my teens. I won’t go there again.”

“And I respect you for it.” The doctor closed the laptop.

“Seriously I find the best method for controlling pain is to accept it and find a distraction.” Mac’s gaze found Stella’s.

“OK. Well, you won’t have to live with it this time. The nurse will be in with paperwork.” The doctor disappeared through the break in the curtain.

Stella propped a hand on a curvy hip. “So you want to tell me how you were shot?”

Voices hummed in the three-bed ER triage room. This was not the place for confessions. Mac lowered his voice. “Not here.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed, and that gorgeous mouth flattened out into a suspicious line. “Are you sure I can’t call your brother or sister for you?”

“No.” Mac sat up and reached for his shirt. “They have enough to deal with right now.”

Her eyes softened. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss. Isn’t your family going to be angry that you didn’t call them?”

“Maybe.” Definitely. “But I’m not ready to deal with them.” Mac almost wished for the pain in his side to return.

“I can’t keep this from Brody, and you know he’ll tell Hannah.”

Mac sighed. Relationships interfered with subterfuge. “He will.”

“They care about you.”

“I know.” The tightness returned to Mac’s chest. “This isn’t about them. I’m the one with the problem. Our family history is complicated.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Mac hated the sadness that clouded her eyes, but every family had its issues. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow. I’m just not up for it tonight.”

“Fair enough.”

He reached for his stained shirt. Stella’s gaze drifted down over his torso. Female appreciation lit her eyes, and a lick of heat warmed Mac’s belly. As much as he wasn’t ready for an interrogation session with his siblings, for the first time in his memory, he didn’t want to be alone. “Give me a ride home, and I’ll tell you everything.”

A wry smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Deal.”

What would she think when he told her the truth?





Chapter Nine


Stella blinked and turned away as Mac tugged his shirt over his head. Staring at the man’s bare chest, no matter how fine, was beyond inappropriate.

It was, however, perfectly professional to be excited about the prospect of a real conversation with the mysterious Mac Barrett, one in which he did not spend every second evading her questions. She’d been exhausted when she’d left the Millers’ house, but the prospect of getting to know Mac better had energized her. A little caffeine would keep her going for a couple of hours, long enough to satisfy her curiosity. His family seemed to think he was scatterbrained, but Stella knew there was more to Mac than he allowed to show on the surface.

A nurse came in with discharge papers and a small prescription bottle. Mac ignored the bottle and shoved the folded papers in the back pocket of his cargo pants. As he headed for the door, Stella picked up the medicine.

“I won’t need those,” he said over his shoulder.

Stubborn man.

“But you’ll have them if you do.” She slipped the bottle into her pocket.

He was in front of her, so she felt rather than saw his amusement.

They left through the sliding doors. The rain had stopped, but humidity hung in the air. Crickets chirped as they crossed the parking lot and climbed into her cruiser.

Stella started the engine. “When did you get in from Brazil?”

“Left Manaus yesterday. Flew into New York today.”

In the course of two days, he’d been shot, traveled from one hemisphere to another, lost his father, and crashed his car. How was he still conscious? Exhaustion was fuzzing Stella’s brain. She checked the dashboard clock. Nearly midnight. With Missy’s case turning into a homicide investigation and Dena Miller’s strange disappearance, Stella’s day had been long before she’d run into Mac.

“Do you have coffee at your place?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been home yet.” He eased the seat belt across his torso and clicked the latch. “Do you know were my Jeep was towed?”

“Probably to Thompson’s Garage. I’ll call in the morning.”

“Thanks. My phone and bags are still in it.”

At the edge of town, Stella pulled into a strip mall and went thru the drive-thru of a Dunkin’ Donuts. “Coffee?”

“Coffee would be great.”

Stella’s stomach rumbled, and she assumed Mac hadn’t eaten recently. “Food?”

“I’m OK.”

She added three sandwiches and a dozen donuts to the order. Even if he wasn’t hungry right this minute, she bet he would be soon. “Well, I’m starving.”

“Sounds like it.”

The cashier handed Stella the food, and she passed the bags and box to Mac. Back on the road, he directed her to the rural highway where he’d crashed. The only sign of his accident was a muddy path of bent weeds and a few broken pine trees.

She drove a mile farther and pointed to a turnoff on the right-hand side of the road. “I live down there, on the river.”