Page 21 of The Desperate Warrior

“You’re not dressed,” she observed with a raise of her sculpted brow.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just not feeling up to going to the Stockyards tonight.” She glanced out the window at the leaden sky. “And the weather’s crappy.”

Nikki’s face fell. “We’ve been talking about this all day.”

“No, you’ve been talking about it all day,” Jules corrected.

Nikki rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ve been talking about it all day. I just can’t sit in this house for one more minute, okay? I’ll go out of my mind.”

“Then go by yourself,” Jules replied offhandedly,

Nikki blinked. “What?” Her voice pitched high. “Go by myself? Who wants to go to a rodeo alone? I need you to come with me. Come on, cuz—you’re my sidekick.” She pressed her palms together in a pleading motion. “Please.”

Jules hobbled over to the couch and collapsed, placing her crutches beside her. “I’m sorry, Nikki. I’m just not feeling up to it.” And it had been raining all day. It was the type of evening that called for staying indoors.

Nikki shuffled over, plopped down on the chair across from Jules, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her glossy, dark hair framed her face in loose waves, and her hazel eyes flashed with frustration. Even dressed casually in a fitted tee and yoga pants, Nikki exuded the effortless style of someone who’d just wrapped up a feature on coastal villages in Greece. She had that same glamorous vibe as Zoe.

The vibe had passed right over Jules. She was the down-to-earth variety who lived in the real world. The type who worked a regular job and actually enjoyed staying at home, curling up under a soft blanket, and getting swept up in a TV show.

Nikki threw her a steely look. “You can’t stay holed up in here forever.”

Watch me.This was getting old. Nikki had gone from cheerleader to mother hen, and Jules was starting to feel smothered. It had been three weeks since the accident, and she was still struggling. She was better—thankfully—but her body still hurt. She was able to go long stretches without wearing a sling on her left arm, which was a good thing. However, getting around was still difficult due to the hairline fracture in her pelvis, and her ribs were still sore, so she had to be careful not to make any big movements.

And Nikki? Nikki had turned into a cruise ship activity director, suggesting that they go to the movies, out to eat, and even shop for clothes. Just thinking about it made Jules feel exhausted. Jules kept reminding Nikki that she was still in her rehab phase, but the words fell on deaf ears. Nikki couldn’t sit still.

Nikki was here to help Jules, but there was another reason why she was in no hurry to leave. She was hiding. Hiding out here in Jules’s neat little bungalow in the quaint and historic Texas Christian University Area, or TCU as the locals called it.

Nikki had broken up with Soren—Prince Soren of Norrhavn, to be exact. Jules still couldn’t say that without chuckling in disbelief. Her cousin had been dating the actual crown prince of a real-life Scandinavian kingdom. Not just dating. The prince had proposed to her. Nikki panicked and fled the scene … back to the good ole USA where she was trying to fill Jules’s days with a flurry of distractions.

“I just want us to go out and have some fun. Is that too much to ask?” Nikki sulked.

Jules let out a long sigh. She appreciated Nikki’s help. Truly. “No, it’s not too much to ask,” she relented. “But I’m worn out right now. Can you just give me a break?”

Nikki made a face. “Give you a break? All you’ve done for days is lounge around here and watch TV.”

Jules rolled her eyes. “Okay, watching TV—that’s productive.”

“No, it’s not productive,” Nikki spouted. “And sitting around eating a pint of ice cream isn’t productive either. If I keep hanging out here, I’m gonna weigh 200 pounds before this is over. You’ve got to pick yourself up and get over Brock—plain and simple. Look at me; I got over Soren.”

“It’s hardly the same thing. You weren’t in love with him,” Jules pouted. “You’re the one who broke his heart, not the other way around.”

“True,” Nikki conceded, “but it’s time for you to move on.”

Jules knew her cousin was right, even though she wasn’t about to admit it out loud. She did need to pick herself up and get over Brock. It’s just that she was hurting. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. And there was still a serious threat hanging over her head. “Even when I do start feeling better, I don’t know that it’s a good idea to go traipsing all over town. Think about what Mindy said when she called me the other day … that she thought she was being followed.” Jules wondered ifany of her other coworkers were feeling threatened. Was Steve going on the warpath again? A shudder ran through her. She certainly hoped not.

“You said Mindy was paranoid,” Nikki countered. “That she has a tendency to blow things out of proportion.”

“She does.”

“Well, maybe she just thinks she’s being followed. You told me that Steve stopped with the threats—that you thought he’d finally moved on after his wife’s death. Why are you suddenly afraid to go out of the house?”

“Because I got hit. That’s why!” Jules nearly shouted.

Nikki came back swinging. “Yeah, but you told your dad everything was fine. That the hit and run accident had nothing to do with what happened at the surgical center.”

“I told my dad everything was fine because if I didn’t, he’d go out of his mind. You know how overprotective he is.”

Nikki let out a low chuckle. “Yeah. Trust me, he’s just like my dad.”

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