Page 22 of Rescuing Josiah
For six years, he had done everything in his power to avoid his family. Barring them from his hospital room. Blocking them on all social media. Changing the locks on his door. Refusing to see them when they tried to surprise him by showing up unannounced.
They had never given up on him, though.
Not a single one of them.
To say he didn't deserve them would be a massive understatement.
Ignoring the blood on his hand and the pain pulsing through it, he straightened his back and braced himself for what he had to do. Facing the prospect of offering apologies to his family might not be something he was ready to tackle, but he couldn’t put off apologizing to Chelsea.
If for no other reason than because they were undercover together and he was supposed to be her husband, who was willing to buy black-market organs because he loved her so much. Nobody would believe that if she was afraid of him.
Only as he stalked out of the bathroom, Josiah knew it wasn't the case that had him going to apologize to the woman downstairs.
Truth was, he couldn’t stand the idea of Chelsea being scared of him. Knowing that she was, felt like a thousand fire antscrawling all over his skin. He had to make things right, had to tell her he was sorry, and try to explain in a way that she would understand without exposing all the wounds he kept hidden from the world.
And if he couldn’t, he would lose the best thing he had in his life.
May 13th
3:30 P.M.
What was she going to do with him?
Chelsea paced the living room, knowing she needed to do something but not sure what that something was.
Maybe she should go back up there?
No.
He’d told her to leave, and she wanted to respect his wishes. Besides, he’d likely be talking to his mom, maybe she could calm him down.
Only …
Had he been upset about her seeing him in the vest, or because she’d answered his phone? Both?
It hadn't seemed like he was pleased about her answering, although she honestly hadn't thought she was doing anything wrong. Why wouldn't he want to talk to his mom? What if there had been some sort of emergency? But maybe he didn't want to talk to his mom. Since Josiah kept everybody at arm’s length, she had no idea what his relationships with his family were like.
If he would justtellher what he needed, then this would be so much easier.
Did he know that she’d do her best to give him whatever he asked for?
She was hopelessly in love with the man, even knowing there was every chance he was never going to love her back. If he needed someone to talk to, she was right there, she’d be the friend he needed and not ask for anything in return.
At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, Chelsea spun around and saw Josiah strolling down them.
Naked.
Well, aside from the vest. Which he still wore. Even though it must be sodden from his shower and feel so uncomfortable against his skin. If he wore it in the shower, then he wore it all the time. She’d never known that. Then again, he’d made sure of that. He always wore a sweater, even in the summer, and he wasn't close to anyone on their team so no one would even suspect.
Her gaze zeroed in on his hand.
Was that …?
“You’re bleeding,” she accused, storming toward him. “What happened? What did you do?”
“It’s fine,” he said dismissively, only it didn't look fine from where she was standing.
“Men. Special forces men,” she added. They thought they were infallible, downplayed everything, and acted like bleeding out was the same thing as a paper cut. “Come and sit down, let me go grab a towel and some bandages.”
