Chapter 2 #2
“What the hell is wrong with you, Josiah? How could you be so selfish? Six years. Six years you’ve refused to see us, to speak to us.
I know you went through hell, man, but punishing your family because of it is crazy.
Josh was married this weekend, and you weren't there for it. Another family milestone missed, and Mom is heartbroken. She wants her baby boy back. You're killing her, I hope you know that. That’s it. We’re all married now except you.
No more weddings for you to attend, no way to make it up to Mom for her broken family.
If I didn't love you, I would hate you. Call Mom.
Please. You want us to beg, I'm begging. Call Mom.”
Jackson’s plan to make him feel like the most horrible son in the world had worked.
But his brother didn't get it, his whole family didn't understand.
How could they? They hadn't felt a bullet pierce their body while watching the men they served with fall around them like dominoes, their empty eyes staring sightlessly at the sky.
His brother was wrong, though, he was married too. To a woman he could never deserve in a thousand lifetimes.
A woman he was going to destroy the same way he’d destroyed his mom and his family.
Death and destruction seemed to follow him wherever he went.
May 12th
7:44 A.M.
Okay, she could do this.
She could step out of this room and act like she had it all together. Like she wasn't a bundle of nervous energy, uncertain what the right thing to do or say was.
Yesterday, after she’d gone upstairs to unpack, she hadn't seen Josiah again for the rest of the night. She’d cooked dinner for the two of them, set the table, and thought they could talk a little, about neutral topics of course, before they sorted out the sleeping arrangements.
Turned out she shouldn’t have worried about them.
When she’d finally tracked Josiah to the gym in the garage, she’d found the door locked. He’d ignored her calls that dinner was ready, and eventually she’d given up, gone back up to the kitchen, and eaten alone.
Stupidly, she’d still clung to some hope that the evening could be salvaged.
After cleaning up and putting his food away in the fridge in case he wanted to eat it later, she’d settled into the living room to watch some TV. Her hope had been that he’d come up, heat his food, and they could talk in there while he ate.
But he never came.
Eventually, she’d gone up to bed alone, not the way she’d thought she would ever spend a wedding night.
This wasn't a real wedding, and it wasn't like she’d expected them to have wild, passionate sex, but was wanting a little bit of company really so bad? Couldn’t Josiah have given her that at least?
Instead, he’d never even come up to the room.
It had taken her at least an hour to fall asleep, and he still wasn't there, plus every time she woke during the night, the room was empty. When she got out of bed thirty minutes ago, it was clear he hadn't even brought his suitcase up to the room.
She tried not to let it hurt. This wasn't a real marriage, and they weren't really even friends, although not for lack of trying on her part.
She wasn't expecting a magical change in Josiah just because he was pretending to care about her, but she needed something.
Needed him to at least make somewhat of an effort.
Since she was supposed to be sick enough to be in dire need of a transplant, after her shower, Chelsea hadn't bothered to do much more than pull her hair back into a simple ponytail, because she knew that made her look younger, and leave her face free of makeup. She’d even chosen a simple outfit, just denim capris, and a button-up short-sleeved blouse.
They had a doctor’s appointment this morning, so she had to look presentable, but if she were gravely ill, she wouldn't be worrying too much about her appearance.
Determined not to let Josiah’s bad attitude destroy her own, she pasted on a smile and walked out of the ensuite. The bedroom was still empty, but Josiah couldn’t hide in the gym all day. He had to accompany her to the appointment, and she was determined that they set a few ground rules.
Fake or not, for the moment they were married and living together. They had no idea how long it would be before the trafficking ring contacted them, and there was a chance that it would never happen, but she had no intention of being ignored that entire time.
Josiah didn't like this arrangement, he didn't have to, but he still had to accept it.
And that started with eating meals together.
It was only a small thing. He could hide in the gym the remainder of the time when they didn't have appointments to go to, but meal time was going to be together time, whether he liked it or not.
To that end, she headed down to the kitchen.
Because she liked to torture herself, apparently, she stopped to check each of the three bedrooms on the next floor down on her way, just to see if Josiah had decided to use any of them.
They were all empty, the beds neatly made, and when she reached the ground floor, she spotted Josiah’s suitcase right where it had been when she went up to bed.
He hadn't really spent the entire night in the gym, had he?
The door to the basement was in the kitchen, and she was heading there anyway, so she eased it open and slipped down the stairs.
Josiah’s truck was parked down there, and one of the doors was partly open.
Had he slept in his car last night? Was that really the lengths he was prepared to go to just to avoid her?
That stung.
If he had really been that against sharing a bed with her, he could have used the floor like he’d planned or the couch in their bedroom like she’d suggested. He could have used any one of the other three bedrooms. He could have slept on the couch in the living room.
Instead, he’d slept in his car.
She’d known he didn't want her here, but that was taking things to the extreme.
Since she could hear him working over a punching bag in the gym and assumed he would have locked the door again to keep her out, Chelsea didn't bother saying anything, just hurried back up to the kitchen to make breakfast. Chances were, he wasn't going to eat with her, but she was going to make him breakfast anyway.
There had been real pain on his face last night when he looked at his phone and saw who was calling.
As difficult as he made it to feel sorry for him sometimes, she reminded herself that Josiah was hurting. He didn't lash out for fun, or because he was a cruel person, and he didn't push people away because he didn't care about them. It was all self-preservation.
When he was at his least likable, it was when he needed compassion the most.
So she chopped up enough ingredients to make two omelets, and refused to let her hurt feelings push her to retaliate with anger at Josiah ignoring her. He’d accepted her presence in this op only because Eagle and Raven had agreed that her plan was more likely to yield results than his.
Just as she was dishing up their plates, she heard footsteps on the stairs.
Dragging in a deep breath, Chelsea painted on a smile and turned to face the door.
Josiah paused slightly when he spotted her standing in the kitchen, and from the scowl on his otherwise handsome face, she knew he’d been hoping she wouldn't be in there and he could sneak away and get ready, then only have to deal with her when it was time to leave.
“Perfect timing, breakfast is ready,” she said as she carried both plates over to the table.
“I was—”
“You were what? Going to skip breakfast like you skipped dinner?” she asked, daring him to go ahead and leave this room without having consumed the food she’d cooked for him.
“Didn't skip dinner,” he grumbled, but he opened the fridge, grabbed a carton of orange juice, and brought it to the table.
“Oh? Because I don’t remember you answering me the dozen times I yelled through the door to tell you dinner was ready.
I don’t remember you sitting at the table with me to eat, and I don’t remember hearing you come up while I was watching TV.
” It wasn't that she wanted him to feel bad, and she wasn't trying to be childish, but he had to understand that while this was hard for him, that didn't make it easy for her. She’d never done anything like this before, and it was scary knowing she was willingly walking into danger.
The least she needed right now was a little bit of support from the man who was, for better or worse, her partner for the foreseeable future.
“Had some extra energy I had to work out,” he mumbled as he poured them both juice, returned the carton to the fridge, and then took the seat across from her.
Had some extra emotions to work out, he meant, but she didn't correct him. At least he was here now, and she intended to take this moment to get a few things straight. This was turning out to be harder than she’d thought it would be, but she wasn't backing down, wasn't giving up.
Maybe she wasn't up to the enormous task before her, but she was going to give it her best shot. She wasn't giving up, and Josiah had to accept that.
“Yeah, we need to talk about your skipping meals to work out. I know you don’t like this, but we’re here together, and I don’t want to be completely ignored.
I’d like us to agree on sharing meals. I won't ask anything else from you. If you want to spend the rest of your time in the gym, or on your laptop, or sleeping in your car, that’s up to you.
But can we please sit down together to eat our meals? ”
Josiah’s brown eyes were wide with surprise.
He obviously hadn't expected her to be so upfront about her needs or confront him on ignoring her.
Thing was, she might be na?ve at times, and she was for sure a romantic at heart.
She went out of her way to look for the good in people, but that didn't make her a pushover.
She could stand up for herself and she was doing it now.
“I didn't sleep in the car,” he said.
“Well, you didn't sleep upstairs in our room, or in any of the other rooms, or on the couch, and your car door was open when I went down to look for you this morning.”
“Just sat in there to work out some cramps,” he muttered, refusing to look at her as he stabbed his fork into his omelet with more force than was necessary. “Overdid it in the gym.”
“Then don’t do that again,” she said simply, pleased that he’d been honest with her.
A teeny tiny little baby step, but at least he’d let her in with that one little thing.
Maybe this wasn't as completely hopeless as she’d thought.
Josiah was never going to reciprocate her feelings.
He wasn't going to magically fall in love with her, but maybe he’d let her be his friend.
That wasn't all she wanted from him, but it was better than nothing.
Better than seeing him slowly die inside even as he kept breathing.