Page 7 of Rescuing Josiah
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 dinnerfor 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 thedoors 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.
