Chapter 14
Decker
It’s officially nine thirty and I haven’t seen another soul but Mrs. Lansbury.
The silence of the kitchen is eerie. For years, the house has been filled with noise. Especially when we’re all headed out the door at the same time.
Their quiet makes me anxious.
Gripping the edges of the smooth quartz, I pull in a deep breath, then another, listening for any sign that the others are approaching or even awake.
We leave at nine thirty. They all know we leave at nine thirty a.m. If there was ever a day to deviate from our routine, this isn’t it. Filming starts tomorrow. We’re supposed to be sticking together.
Sighing, I push off the counter and stalk toward the stairs.
I’m halfway up the staircase when the first murmur floats its way to me. Then another. It’s obvious by the time I hit the landing that they’re coming from Josephine’s room.
I approach with caution, bracing myself for what I may find when I open the door. I’m aware that she’s with the others. Individually. Together. I don’t know all the details, but the guys, and more often Josephine, tease me enough that I get the fucking gist.
If we’re late this morning because one or more of my boys decided he needed to get his dick wet and couldn’t wait—
“Oh.”
Everyone freezes when the door opens and I step inside.
I scan the scene before me, then pull out my phone again.
It’s Wednesday. Wednesday morning. The display on my phone confirms it. Nothing about what’s happening in this room fits with the plan.
Something has to be wrong.
Locke and Josephine are in her bed. He’s sitting up against the headboard with one arm around her shoulders and the other stroking her hair. She’s curled up against him, her head nestled against his chest.
Kendrick is perched on the end of the bed, surveying me over the top of his phone.
The only person missing is—
“Coming through.”
Kylian breezes past me without a glance my way.
He approaches the bed with total confidence. He’s undeterred by the sight before him, confirming the inkling in my gut.
Something’s wrong. And I’m the last to know.
“What’s going on?”
Kendrick’s still watching me, but his blank stoicism gives me nothing to go on.
Josephine’s eyes are closed, but she hums to acknowledge she heard me.
Kylian and Locke disregard me as if I haven’t spoken at all. Neither takes their attention off Josephine, even as I stomp toward the bed.
As I approach, I home in on the paper bag Kylian is holding up.
“These side effects are hellacious. When did she eat last?” he asks without looking up from the document stapled to the bag.
“She had toast around five this morning,” Kendrick replies.
Kylian scoffs and drops the hand holding the bag to his side. “That’s the last time she ate? How about her water intake? How much has she had to drink?”
Shifting from one foot to the other, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
Not only am I ignored once again, but Josephine isn’t inserting herself into the conversation. Something must be really wrong if she isn’t getting after them for talking about her like she isn’t here.
“She’s had plenty to drink. She knows the drill. Just give her the meds, Kyl.”
“Absolutely not. The instructions say to take them with food. Toast that was consumed more than four hours ago does not meet the qualifications. I’ll go make her real food—”
“I’ll do it,” Locke insists. He shifts toward the side of the bed, making Josephine groan in protest.
“Josephine,” I snap with more force than I should. I snake around Kylian and take Locke’s position by her side before anyone can beat me to it.
“Hey,” I say, softer. I shift until I’m close enough to stroke her shoulder. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Locke bends over me to kiss her head, then takes off.
I brush the hair out of her face and tuck a section behind her ear. Finally, she peeks up at me with one eye.
“Why are you still in bed?”
The corner of her mouth turns up in a smirk, though it’s weak.
“Because I knew it would piss you off.”
Kendrick snorts and mutters a “behave, Mama” under his breath as he grabs her half-full water bottle.
“I’ll go fill this up. You want me to pop your heating pad back in the microwave? Should I bring the Tylenol up? We could start alternating pain meds.”
“Yes. Both.” With another groan, she shifts and pulls a rice pack from under the covers, then holds it out for him.
My chest is so tight I can barely breathe, and no one will fucking answer me, but I affect calm and keep my voice soft. “Are you hurt?”
She rolls to her back and blows out a slow, clearly pained breath.
“Are you sick?” I press, peering at the orange prescription bottle in Kylian’s hand as he continues to glare at the instructions and warnings as if they’re personally offending him.
“Sort of,” she mutters.
I sigh, checking the time again. It’s 9:36 a.m. We’re running out of time. I’m running out of patience. “How can you be sort of sick?”
Instead of answering me with words, she reaches for my hand and pulls, guiding me closer to where she’s curled under the covers.
“Will you rub my low back?” she whispers. “Nicky’s hands are hurting, so I didn’t ask him.”
My knuckles instantly find her spine and knead into the muscle so intensely she lets out a whimper.
“Sorry, sorry,” I mutter, using my fingertips instead. “Better?”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed in what I hope is contentment.
Pride surges through me, but it’s quickly replaced by dread when I catch sight of the clock on Josephine’s bedside table.
9:38 a.m.
“We should have left eight minutes ago.” I tip my chin toward Kylian but maintain pace as I massage Josephine’s low back.
She arches her back and sighs softly when I hit a particularly tender spot. Damn if it doesn’t make me feel like I’m the king of the world when I get that kind of reaction from her.
“I know,” Kylian confirms. “Today we will be late.”
Josephine goes rigid and pushes up with one arm so she can turn to look at me. “I’m making you late?”
“Yes,” I reply as Kylian adamantly declares, “No.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was.” She stifles a yawn with the back of her hand.
Scrutinizing me through his glasses, his expression cool, Kylian continues. “Time is irrelevant in moments like this. You needed us. We want to be here for you, Jo. Once they confirmed the diagnosis—”
“Which is what, exactly?” I press through gritted teeth. It takes all I have to maintain my pace, smoothing one hand over Josephine’s low back in methodical strokes, as I glare at Kylian.
He scoffs. “I’m not committing a HIPPA violation right in front of the patient herself.”
Josephine barks out a laugh but is surprised by another yawn. She’s never this lethargic.
“Siren, if you’re sick or contagious—”
Her shoulders tremble as another laugh works its way out of her. “I promise you can’t catch what I have, Decker.” She reaches behind her back and snags my hand again, pulling me closer and guiding my limbs around her body until I’m basically spooning her.
“What is that supposed to mean? What do you have?”
Groaning, she rolls to her back and regards me.
Her hair is loose and wavy, the ends tickling my forearm. Her freckles have started to fade now that the weather is changing. I resist the urge to kiss the bridge of her nose, dismiss Kylian, and just hold her for the rest of the damn day.
But then she purses her lips and side-eyes me.
“You’re a mother hen, you know that, Crusade? Has anyone ever told you—”
“Josephine,” I contend, clenching my jaw so hard it aches. It’s not just that she’s withholding information or that she’s making us late. It’s that everyone but me, it seems, knows what’s going on. “If something is wrong with you—”
“I have a UTI, Decker!”
My chest constricts, even if I don’t have a fucking clue what she’s talking about. “A U-T-what? What does that stand for?” I rack my brain, flipping through the diseases and ailments I know of.
She blinks at me, deadpan. “Urinary tract infection. It’s something girls get sometimes. I’m a girl—remember?”
Kylian snickers.
“How do you know that’s what’s going on?” If she has an infection, she needs proper medical attention. She needs to see a doctor, or at the very least—
“Because I had a telehealth appointment this morning. And because I’ve had them before.
Most women are familiar with the symptoms, Cap.
Plus, I got dairy dicked a week ago”—she tilts her head toward Kyl—“then I fell asleep before I had a chance to pee after Kendrick and Kylian tag-teamed me on Saturday night.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and a wave of concern washes over me. Concern. That’s what I’m feeling. Concern about her health. Concern for her well-being. That’s it. The heat creeping up my chest has nothing to do with jealousy.
I’m ready to lay in to Kylian and drag Kendrick up here and demand he explain himself, but Kylian cuts me off.
“Wait. Sprinkles caused this?” The abject horror in his voice is almost enough to pull me out of my frustration.
“Meh.” Josephine lifts a shoulder but winces and drops it quickly.
I knead the muscles of her lower back with a little more force and cocoon her frame with my body.
“That feels good,” she whispers over her shoulder, just for me. “Don’t stop?”
“I won’t,” I vow. Fuck making it to campus on time or even going to class at all. If she needs me, then I’ll be here.
She reaches for Kylian, and like a magnet, he scoots closer. “Multiple factors contributed. Thankfully, I recognized the symptoms early. I’ll feel better tomorrow, and by the weekend, I’ll be good as new. If I start taking my meds now, that is.”
Kylian gives the orange bottle one last glare and hands it over just as Kendrick walks back into the room.
He saunters over and joins us on the bed.
Josephine sits up, accepts the water bottle from K, then dutifully takes the antibiotic.
“Nicky will bring breakfast up in a few. What else do you need?”