Page 10 of Won't Let Go
Again, with this crap. That was a few days ago.
I wave my fork at the front door. “I’m fine now. You can go.”
Rolling his eyes, Josh chews a bite of dinner before replying. “No, you stubborn dick. We are full-time roomies now. You thought I was around a lot before, but you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Releasing a loud, obnoxious sigh to get my point across, I carefully set my fork beside my plate, lean back in my chair, and tuck both arms under my breasts. “Josh. Don’t do this.”
“Jade. I’m not doing anything except keeping you alive. You don’t want to talk about what happened? Fine. You don’t wanna get help with your PTSD and depression? Fine. I can’t make you. But I am moving in for now to keep a closer eye on things. I should have seen the signs before what happened, happened, and I didn’t. Which is on me.” To prove some macho point, he jabs two fingers at his chest.
It should warm me to have someone in my life who cares so much. If it were anyone else but him, I might. But this is far too much for him to shoulder. I’m not his responsibility. “None of this is on you.”
“You’re my family,” he retorts, like that’s the answer for everything.
“You’re twenty-three, Josh. Not forty. You should be out living your life, not here.”
“Wherever you are, I am. Wherever Hunter is, I am. You’re family—end of story.”
See what I said about stubborn?
Ugh.
“What about Bitty?” I test, knowing he likes her. They’ve been together for a while.
He pops a fry in his mouth. “What about her?”
“She can’t be happy about this.” I wave my hand around. Any woman in her right mind would not want her man hanging out with another female.
Josh shrugs and devours another bite of dinner. “I don’t care if she likes it or not.” He speaks around a mouthful of food. “If you’re dead, that leaves me as a single dad to a teenager, who is already going through enough shit. He doesn’t need to add dead mom to the list. Just as I don’t wanna be a single dad. Bitty wouldn’t like that either.”
A single dad? Since when? I… Never mind.
On a sigh, I reply, “That’s not how it works, Josh. Hunter would be safe. The club would protect him. Bink could take him in, or Jez, or Deke. It wouldn’t have to be you.”
“I’m not letting someone else raise him, Jade. If it ain’t you, it’s me.” For emphasis, he points the fork at his chest.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“If you’re dead, yes, I do. What are you gonna do? Stop me? Oh. Wait. No. You’ll be gone.” He huffs a humorless laugh.
“I had instructions all written out.” In detail. He wouldn’t have had anything to worry about.
“I’m sure you did. But fuck your instructions. We’re doing this my way. I’m cookin’ healthy meals. You’re goin’ back to work, full-time—no more of this when-I-feel-like-it crap. You love your job, and you’re avoiding it. We’re going to start exercising together and taking supplements. I’ve been reading up on what vitamins work best for anxiety, depression, and shit. We’re taking those. And we’re reading books, which sucks because of my dyslexia, so maybe we’ll listen to the audiobooks instead.”
Sorry, but I’m not doing any of that. Even if I should work more. Even if working out and eating better is healthy for anyone. It’s just too much. Everything is too much. It has been for some time now.
Dragging a palm down my face, I sigh. “Josh.”
“What? Are you gonna argue with me about this, too?”
Yes.
“I…”
“No.” Staring me in the eye, he slams his palm on the table, rattling our plates. “No fighting with me on this. You get one hour a day to torture me for funsies with whatever horrific music you want. I’m bunking in Hunter’s room for the next two weeks, and when he comes home, we’ll figure out better sleepingarrangements. I’ll drive you to work every day, then pick you up. Pixie already said she’d keep an eye on you for me.”
Sweet Jesus.
“You really planned all this out,” I state in equal parts anger and awe.
