Page 28 of Notorious

I think about it and shake my head. “No. I use an electric.”

“Would you tell me if you had anything?”

I nod, my head spinning. “What good would it do to hide stuff from you? You already know everything.”

“Hardly. But tell me if you remember something else.”

“Deal.”

After taking a final look around and checking out remotely, I pluck Ace’s note from the flowers, slide it and the marriage certificate into the front of my bag, and leave the hotel key on a table.

What the hell am I gonna do now? I have nothing. Literally nothing but a suitcase and Kurt’s vow to help.

The ride down in the elevator is different from what I remember of the drunken one last night. Kurt and I look at each other, not talking, as various people crowd in there with us. What’s there to say? My chest feels hollow, and my pulse is as sluggish as molasses.

On our way to his hotel, he spies a huge pharmacy on the Strip. “Hang on,” he says, “I bet they have pill disposal.”

My heart sinks—all my plans gone—but he’s probably right. It’s dangerous to have that much medication on me. I’ve proved I’m not making good decisions these days.

If I ever did. I should grab those pills and the gun back from him and be done with it all.

He marches up to the pharmacy counter and places the pill bottles in the red disposal box off to the side. After it’s shut and secure, we stand there a moment, staring at it. My arms feel too weighty to lift, my legs too heavy to move.

He reaches out and touches my wrist, and I flinch. “Hey. You okay?”

Out of habit, I nod, and he stares at me.

Might as well be honest.

I shake my head.

“Hey,” he says, and he wraps me in a hug. It surprises me, but I hug him back, liking the way he feels against me. He smells like weed and cigarette smoke and coffee, with something underneath that’s faintly musky in the best way. It’s comforting. I hold on to him a bit longer than I should.

Kurt feels right against me.

We break apart, silently walk out of the pharmacy, and cross the street to his hotel.

It’s nice in a different way than mine. While mine was Vegas chic, his is more old-world. It’s starting to dawn on me that he’s from a different world than me. The reference to his bank account and “family money” probably should’ve been a tip-off.

I go with him, wheeling my small suitcase that contains everything I own, feeling like I have no purpose whatsoever. He opens the door to a spacious suite, about as nice as mine but with a more classic feel. I’m wagering Kurt wasn’t comped this room, though. Again, different worlds.

He stashes my handgun in the hotel safe before he showers, again with the door open so he can keep an eye on me. I resist the urge to peep in at him, even though I know from this morning that I’d like what I’d see.

Kurt locking the gun up makes me feel like the muck you pick out from a horse’s hoof. I should feel better now that I’ve got someone helping me with Mama, but I don’t. If anything, I feel shittier.

I can’t even kill myself properly.

I’m a total loser.

She’s gonna die because of me.

“You feel up to a five-hour drive?” Kurt calls, the water muffling his voice.

“Sure, darlin’,” I say, fiddling on my phone.

“Did you fly here?”

“Yep.”

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