Page 45 of Act Like You Don't Care
“We can do that once we’ve got you safe,” Miles’s father said, then went back to ignoring me.
I chewed on the edge of a fingernail and glared at them all. Why didn’t I get a say in anything anymore?
God, I needed to talk to Mom. Or Dean. Someone who wasn’t completely wrapped up in this fucking shitshow. “I’m going to get something to drink.”
Miles’s older brother, the super handsome one, stopped me before I could get to the door. “We’ll have them bring something to the room. Just relax while we get this organized.”
I gritted my teeth and stomped back to my chair. Where was Miles? I wanted him too.
They’d taken him to a different room when we’d arrived. But the doctor had said I was fine, just needed to rest. What was happening with Miles?
Sevo-something. Florane? Flurane? An anesthetic, like the kind they put in the masks and use to make you go to sleep for surgery. But that was what the stalker had put in the air in my condo, hidden in the big bunches of flowers. It had made the police and the Ad Astra crew pretty happy. Something, something restricted access substance. Whatever.
Where was Miles?
And then he was walking through the door, followed by his mother and his other brother. They must have brought him clothes because he was wearing ordinary jeans and a t-shirt. I twitched with the urge to just run into his arms. His eyes rested on me, filled with concern, but I didn’t see anything else in there.It’s not a real relationship, I reminded myself and settled back in my chair.
Miles’s mother came over to crouch by me. “They won’t let anyone back into the condo yet. As soon as they do, I’ll gather up some clothes to send up for you. If you can describe anything you particularly want, we’ll see if we can find it. It won’t be until tomorrow, though. We have to air the place out and wash everything, make sure the fumes are out of them all.”
I nodded and swallowed hard against the sudden twisting of my stomach. “That’s fine.”
“You can borrow Miles’s clothing for now,” she said and patted my hand, very much like a mother. The longing for my own mother intensified and I chewed a little harder on my abused fingernail.
Someone from the hospital came into the room with a sheaf of papers. I signed them, not even bothering to read the text. I just wanted out.
The other brother. Rick? He stopped to talk to their father then crossed the room to stand in front of me. “Can you look at an image we pulled off the video and see if you recognize him?”
Finally! Something I could do. I nodded sharply and took the phone, ignoring the tremor in my hand. If anyone commented, I’d tell them it was a leftover from the gas in the condo. That, or I’d just punch them. My heart hammered in my chest as I stared down at the phone, willing myself to recognize him.
The picture was in color, taken from up high on the wall. I studied what I could see of the face, square and thin-lipped, with what Hollywood often called an aristocratic nose. Skin tone was medium, body was stocky but I guessed about my height. I couldn’t see his hands or his eyes. His hair was a medium brown underneath the ballcap that hid most of his identity.
Nothing. None of it looked familiar, not in that combination. I reverse-pinched the screen to make his face bigger. Was that a scar under his lip? I thought about all the directors I’d worked with, the actors I’d been in films with, going right back to my first amateur roles. None of them rang a bell. Didn’t even make me feel uneasy.
The Vinists? I wracked my brain, starting with my ex’s family and working out from there, but none of the ones I remembered looked like this guy. He kind of had that air about him, because they intermarried so much that they had a ‘look’ that was hard to define but easily recognized. Kind of like porn.
The thought amused me, even as my heart sank. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize him. Can’t even take a guess.”
It was like I’d just let their air out of their last hope. I could feel them deflate. They’d really hoped that this would be the break they’d needed.
I buried my head in my hands and focused on breathing, in, out, in, out, until the noise level in the room ramped up again.
The Ad Astra group seemed to have come to a decision. Miles walked over and gently took my arm. “We’re going to sneak you out of the hospital.”
I nodded and glanced around the room. Why couldn’t they all just go away and leave me alone?
Miles wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. “It’s going to be fine. I promise.”
I slapped his hand away. “You keep saying that and it keeps getting worse.” I hid my wince at his expression—he’d just been trying to be kind. Like he had been since the beginning. “Sorry,” I muttered and hunched my shoulders, hugging myself because I was afraid to ask him to do it for me.
Quietly, I heard him say, “Give us a minute?” and then his family shuffled out of the room.
Miles came back to me and pulled me into a hug and, like an idiot, I let myself be folded into that comforting hold. Just for a moment, I let myself pretend that this was real.
“I’m sorry,” he said, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.
It certainly wasn’t what I’d been expecting. “What do you have to be sorry about? I’m the one who couldn’t identify him.”
“That you’re going through this. That we haven’t been able to predict this guy well enough to get ahead of him. That we haven’t found him yet. Though if it helps, the police say that this anesthetic he used will make him easier to find. There are only so many places he could get access to it.”
