Page 68 of Cruel Hearts

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“My stepfather’s been shot.”

His gaze flickered to Greg, who snarled, “Fuck off and stop holding us up.”

Maxwell scooted inside and fastened his seatbelt.

“Bugger off,” said Greg.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Tagging along to support my girlfriend.”

My mouth fell open, presumably to deny that we had any kind of connection, but common sense clicked it shut. If this was an ambush, I would need someone to watch my back. Besides, Maxwell was enough to distract me from all the conflicting thoughts whirring through my mind.

Greg pointed a finger at Maxwell. “If you don’t fuck off right now—”

“Leave it,” I said. “He’s coming with us.”

His face hardened, but he gave me a sharp nod. Even if I was a traitor whose snitching got his boss sent to prison, I was still Billy Hancock’s daughter.

“Maxwell reached across the back seat and grabbed my hand. “Are you alright?”

A sad smile stretched across my lips. “I am now.”

Chapter 25

Maxwell held my hand the entire journey—in the car, on the plane down to London, and on the ride to St. Luke’s hospital. Just like he had during the chase across Glasgow town center, he was my pillar of support. I had been hungry earlier, when Elizabeth had attacked me, but now terror made my stomach heave.

What would I find when I got to his hospital room? A pale and emaciated Billy Hancock strapped to a bunch of machines? Or would they take me to the morgue to see his dead body?

The car pulled in outside the main entrance, a glass-fronted extension to a Victorian monstrosity of a building. It was late, and street lights illuminated the courtyard. An ambulance parked behind us, and a pair of porters eased an old man out of a wheelchair.

I swallowed hard. “Do you know which ward?”

Greg shook his head. “I can’t get hold of no one.”

Maxwell opened the door, letting in the sounds and smells of traffic. “Come on, we’ll ask at the reception desk.”

He wrapped a strong arm around my waist as he scooted through the car door onto the sidewalk, bringing me out with him. My legs felt like saplings in the wind, with Maxwell the only thing keeping me upright.

“Whatever happens, it will be alright.” Maxwell pressed a kiss on my forehead.

Gulping mouthfuls of air, I nodded and took my first step into the hospital. The walk through the maze-like structure of hallways and wards was a blur. Porters, patients, and medicals mingled with the public, creating a constant stream of silent traffic. It reminded me of long airport conveyor belts but without all the excitement and hope in the air that came from those about to go on holiday.

We found the ward—the Acute Cardiac Unit—along with the crowd of Billy’s boys spilling out into the hallway. Detective Sergeant Spears and Detective Constable Barnes who had questioned me about stabbing Sammy also stood among the masses along with four uniformed constables and a sergeant.

DS Spears met my eye but had the good sense not to say hello. Right now, I didn’t need to remind this crowd of thugs that I was responsible for Billy Hancock’s spell in prison. A fist clenched at my heart, making my breath catch.

“What’s wrong?” Maxwell pulled me to the side.

I glanced at Sammy’s boys who were too busy dealing with the police to notice me. “This was my fault.”

Maxwell frowned. “What?”

“If Billy hadn’t gone to prison, the Nelson brothers wouldn’t have shot him to protect the territory they stole.”

He cupped my cheek, raising my eyes to meet his. “I don’t know what happened between you and your stepfather, but you can’t take the blame for someone else’s actions.”