Fever (Breathless #2)(20)

God, even now, she was somewhere on the streets. Without a coat. Cold. Hungry. No protection.

“Do me a favor please, Ms. Stover.”

He shoved his card back into her hand, closing her fingers around it.

“If you see her again, you call me immediately. Day or night. My cell number is on here. Call me the minute you see her and don’t let her out of your sight until I get here. Can you do that for me?”

Ms. Stover frowned, and she looked at him oddly. He was quick to excuse his urgency before she became suspicious again and blew his story all to hell.

The hell of it was, he absolutely did sound like some deranged, obsessed, abusive boyfriend bent on hunting down his runaway lover. Jesus. If Ash could see and hear him, he’d have Gabe down here and they’d both physically subdue and haul his ass out of here. Then they’d likely hire him a f**king shrink.

“I’m sympathetic to her plight, Ms. Stover. She’s a qualified candidate, and now that I know her circumstances are what they are, it’s even more important that she be the one to receive my offer. I could hire someone else, but she needs the job. Can you contact me please?”

He was proud of his even tone. He’d even managed to convince himself he hadn’t lost his f**king mind.

Ms. Stover relaxed and then smiled, tucking the card into her pocket. “I’ll call you if I see her.”

“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.