Page 99 of Dead Love

By the time we got to the hospital, Shea had already figured out which ward and room he was in. A thin sheet hung from a bar, blocking the view inside.

Sheriff Mike leaned on the counter. “It’s not good,” he said to Shea.

“Is he hurt?” she asked.

“Physically, he’s stabilized, but something happened.” He shook his head. “He’s not himself.”

I stayed silent. My mother always had better leverage when it came to my father. I was glad she was taking an active interest in me. Maybe she wasn’tallbad.

“What do you mean?” Shea asked.

“He’s talking like he had a vision.” Sheriff Mike drew circles in the air by his ears. “Says hesawthe Echo Killer.”

“Did he?” Shea asked. Shock waved through me; did she actually believe him?

My father laughed, his firm belly jiggling. “Of course not. The Echo Killer isn’t going to show himself to a civilian and let the civilianlive.That would be suicidal!” He sighed deeply, satisfied with the amusement. “Erickson likely fell asleep at the wheel, and his dreams seemed real to him. Who knows?”

But something wasn’t right. Vincent drunk driving, falling asleep at the wheel, hallucinating? All of it was possible. And he seemed impulsive enough to get himself into trouble. But would he do that?

“Vincent hasn’t done drugs in years. Even quit alcohol after his brother’s death,” Catie said. A warmth swelled in my stomach; at least the two of us knew that ifanything,he was drugged. I was glad she was with us.

“Can I see him?” I asked. Everyone turned to me, surprised that I would speak. I said it louder. “Please. I want to see him.” I turned to my mother. “I won’t speak to him. I promise.”

Shea turned to Sheriff Mike. Inside the room, the bed creaked with Vincent’s movement.

Sheriff Mike turned to me. “If it’s all right with your mother.”

Shea nodded, and the three of them watched as I stepped closer to the room. A nurse motioned me inside. I slipped around the curtains. Vincent lay there, a deep black and blue bruise on his face, puffy and swollen. Knicks of red dashed over his skin, sprinkling across his body. His eyes were closed, his lips open and chapped. I put a hand on his wrist, hoping to comfort him. His eyes fluttered awake, instantly locked on mine, and he thrust himself forward.

“Kora,” he said, his voice louder than I expected. I stepped back. “You’ve got to believe me.” He got out of bed, the IVs in his arms dragging the equipment to the floor in a loud crash. A commotion of staff rushed over. “Don’t trust anything they say—”

Shea put her hands on my ears, pulling me back, while the nurses surrounded him. My whole body was hot, my pulse racing.

“Don’t trust them, Kora! You’re not safe!” Vincent shouted.

What was he afraid of?

Andrew appeared at my side. “Miss Shea,” he said, “Miss Kora.” He turned to me, his smile gleaming. My lips flinched, but then I forced a smile.

“We were lucky my boy, Andrew, was there,” Sheriff Mike said, slamming his palm into Andrew’s back. “If it weren’t for him, Vincent would be dead right now.”

Andrew smiled. “Doing my job, sir,” he said, winking. “Like you taught me.”

“You were the officer who helped him?” I asked. “You saved him?” I was hopeful, but it didn’t sound right.

“Just because I dislike him does not mean I’m going to disregard my duties as an officer,” he said. “I hope you do take me for more than that, Miss Kora.”

“You know, there’s another reason he’s here,” Shea beamed. She smiled up at Andrew and my father, then turned to me. “Do you have plans tonight?”

I raised a brow. “Is it prom season or something?”

“I set you up on your first date!” she exclaimed. “With real husband material. Like your father. Aren’t you excited?”

My heart raced in my chest. “Who are you talking about?”

“Andrew Pompino,” she said proudly. She patted his shoulder. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Aww, shucks, Miss Shea,” he said. “But trust me, I’m looking forward to it, Miss Kora.”