Leave Her Hanging: A Noir Thriller

Chapter Thirty-Four

The next thing I remember I was in a car again. My heart thudded to life and I brought my arms up, ready to defend myself. Then I realised I was buckled into the front seat, not in the back. The car smelled different as well, and Malcolm Barker was nowhere to be seen. I shook my head, trying to clear away the pain, but I just got dizzy. A hand came softly to rest on my arm.

“It’s okay,” Stephanie said. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I figured out speech. “No hospital.”

“Look, little boy—”

“No hospital. That’s trouble for both of us.”

She exhaled. I thought I smelled cigarette smoke. “Fine. Sleep.”

It sounded like a good idea. My eyes closed by themselves.

Sometime later the car stopped. My half-conscious mind registered the lack of noise and vibrations and dragged me back into wakefulness. Someone’s hands were under my arms, lifting me. My broken fingers brushed something and sent pain shooting up my arm again. I groaned and tried to open my eyes.

“Bloody hell, you’re heavier than you look. You’re going to have to put some effort into it, little boy.”

I figured out which leg was which. While Stephanie retrieved my backpack and put her arm around me, I heaved myself out of the car. I was outside, in some sort of fenced-off parking area. I looked up at the small, box-shaped four-storey apartment building in front of us.

“Tell me you have an elevator,” I croaked.

“Sorry.” She was whispering; I guess she didn’t want to wake the neighbours. “But I’m only on the second floor. Come on.”

She half-carried me up the central stairway. My ribs ached with every step. I couldn’t stand up straight, so I shuffled along bent over at the middle like I was looking for a dropped contact lens. I was coated in sweat again by the time we reached the second floor. Stephanie propped me up against the wall while she fished her keys out of her pocket.

“Hey,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Shut up.” She threw her door open and put her arm around me again. Her hair smelled good. “Who’s the shining knight now?”

She dragged me inside. The place wasn’t big, but it was surprisingly nice. There was a small kitchen to my left as I came in the door and a living room area just past that. Two other doors, bathroom and bedroom, I’d guess. The walls were papered in scattered pencil sketches like the one she’d been drawing in the coffee house.

Stephanie lowered me onto a couch, put my bag down, and went back to close the door behind us. I got my first good look at her since she’d picked me up. She was in her usual jacket and jeans. Her hair was messed up. I’d probably woke her up when I called. That made me a little guilty, but not guilty enough to regret it. I didn’t really want to freeze to death out there on that footpath.

“You live here alone?” I asked. Then I cringed. My ribs didn’t like me talking.

She just said, “Yes.” I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen. There were a few beeps as the microwave started. She reappeared with a glass of water. “Lean back.”

I had to grit my teeth and pull my knees up with me, but I did it. Stephanie sat on the couch next to me, one leg folded under the other, and gently trickled water into my mouth. I started coughing almost immediately, which made my chest feel like it was being stabbed with a hundred knives. She stopped pouring and waited until the coughing stopped, then she tried again. I managed to wash the taste of blood out of my mouth and swallow a few sips of water. When I’d had enough, she put the glass down and went back to the kitchen. The microwave beeped again, and she returned with a bowl of tinned vegetable soup.