Bad Boy's Bridesmaid (65 page)

But she wouldn’t forgive me for my desperation.

I had to try.

Nolan stopped me before I chased her, stepping in front
of the door. I wasn’t in the mood for threats, and murder would be too damn
noticeable in the middle of the police station.

“I told you to stay away from her.” He buttoned his suit.
“This should guarantee it.”

“You really think you can keep us apart? Are you that
pathetic that you’d burn your own damn signs just to humiliate me?”

“They were misprints. This way I can order a new batch
with the insurance money.”

“Glad you could break her damn heart to stretch your
campaign budget.”

“You never did tell her you were my errand boy, did you?”

She had a good idea now. “Doesn’t matter. She’ll forgive
me.”

“Are you so sure?”

“Josie’s mine.” I leaned closer. “The sooner you realize
it, the safer you’ll be.”

“Another threat?”

“Unlike yours…my threats are guaranteed.”

Nolan raised his eyebrows. “Do you think she’s worth it?”

What kind of question was that? I didn’t answer. He
shrugged, passing from the door to let me chase after her.

“It just seems strange a love that strong wouldn’t last
through prison,” he said.

“What the hell do you know about—”

“I know she never visited you in jail. Never wrote. Never
called. Maybe you ought to ask her why she deliberately ignored you in
prison…even after you saved her life.”

Ice shredded my veins, and doubt planted deep in my mind,
in that dark and unsettling place I knew existed but fought to suppress. Nolan
left me to assist the chief on another lead. 

Son of a bitch.

I wasn’t playing his games anymore, and I’d make sure he
paid for humiliating Josie.

First, I’d find her, explain myself, tell her
why
I slept with the devil to give my angel her halo.

Then, I’d get to work.

Three men threatened Josie, but one just wormed his way
to the top of my shit list. I didn’t care if Nolan was responsible or not. Once
I was through with him…he wouldn’t need his damn campaign signs.

Dead men didn’t get elected.

Chapter Thirteen – Josie

My phone rang for the tenth time.

This ended now. I was done ducking calls, done simmering
in anger, just
done
with Maddox.

How was I supposed to trust a man who would betray me,
who would
work
for a man like Nolan? I sacrificed so much to try to
protect Maddox, and he walked right into the lion’s den.

He
helped
the bastard who burned down my shop!

I answered the call and tried to sound anything but
heartbroken.

“Maddox, I mean it. Stop calling. I will not talk to
you—”

“
Uh…Josie? This is Larry from Willowbend Health Care
Center...”

I dropped my bowl of cookie dough. I had been too
depressed to even bake the damn cookies.

“Larry? I’m sorry! I thought you were…is everything
okay?”

Larry’s heavy sigh froze the half batch of cookie dough
sitting in my stomach. “It’s Matthias. There was an accident.”

This wasn’t happening. Not now.

“Is he okay? Is it his lungs?”

“He’s okay, Josie. He accidentally took too much of his
medication.”

I stood too fast, knocking over my drink and the TV
remote. I tripped over the coffee table in a search for my shoes. “I
thought…don’t you handle his meds?”

“We oversee his medications, but Matt was capable of
administering the prescriptions himself. He always handled it…you know him. But
today he took a large amount of the wrong pills. He probably confused them
because they’re in a new container.”

“Is he…?”

“He’s okay. A doctor was on-call and checked on him.
We’ll watch him close tonight in case he needs a transfer to the hospital.”

I didn’t remember if I answered. I changed into a pair of
jeans and a sweatshirt and rushed around the apartment, grabbing anything that
might have helped the care facility. All the paperwork was already there
though. I had nothing but a platter of cupcakes to offer.

Would Granddad even be awake to eat one?

I bolted to my car and sped to the care facility, racing
my tears and the passing minutes. The nursing staff waited for me at the
entrance—and even Tina Raynos, one of the meanest girls in my high school
class, offered to park my car so I could rush inside.

Larry met me at the doorway to Granddad’s room. He gave
me a hug.

“We’re out of the woods, but he’s probably going to be
sleeping. Which is good—he was pretty cranky when we helped him.”

“Sounds like Granddad.” I wiped away another tear and
offered Larry four very smooshed cupcakes. “Can I…?”

“Go on in.”

I nodded, but I didn’t move.

I wasn’t proud that I hesitated before approaching the
bed. It was just…

The instant I saw him, life would change. Again.

It would be one of those moments we were helpless to
stop, the kind of revelation that destroyed an already broken family. At least
nothing could be worse than the first time I almost lost a loved one.

One year ago, I woke in the hospital after the fire and
learned Granddad was hurt. The smoke had damaged his lungs, and the doctors
weren’t sure of the full extent of his injuries. They had told me to wait and
see.

So I did. I remembered stepping into his hospital room.
Everyone warned me he’d look tiny in the bed. They were wrong. He had looked
like my granddad. Not sick, not weak. Just…him, and I had no idea what to do or
say or feel.

The memory still hurt. I had wanted to comfort him, but
even that turned awkward and confusing. Our family and the doctors looked to me
like I knew what we had to do, who to talk to, how to get the information I
needed from the hospital and insurance and the police and fire marshals…

No one gave me the instructions for what to do when the
child became the caretaker. Suddenly, I was taking more and more
responsibilities away from Granddad so I could
manage
his health. The
only advice I had from friends and family were the choices that infringed on
Granddad’s privacy. The ones that hurt his pride. But it had to be done. I made
those decisions, and I lost my grandfather.

Nobody deserved to be reduced to their ailments, but
Granddad had nothing left. He hated being on oxygen. He couldn’t do the things
he used to do, see the people he used to see, and most of our family was dead
and buried long ago. How was I supposed to comfort a man who lost his best
years and saw the remaining as a death sentence?

At least I had cupcakes this time. The Davis household
prepared for the worst with baked goods now. It helped. At least our sorrows
could go to our thighs and be worked off like everything else.

I forced a smile and went to his bedside.

He was asleep, which relieved me. Wasn’t sure what I’d
say except the same things I said every time I visited.
I love you. How are
you feeling? Can I get you anything?
The platitudes lost their impact when
he no longer loved himself. He never felt
well
, and I could give him
nothing to help him through these hard times.

Admitting that he was sick was hard. Knowing I couldn’t
give more help because we had no money that wasn’t tied to his gambling debts
was even worse.

His oxygen pumped harder than usual—ten liters. It hissed
too loud, and it’d be uncomfortable for him. Usually he sucked on cough drops
since the oxygen made his throat scratchy. I forgot to buy him a new bag. Too
much happening and not enough attention on the things that mattered.

Family.

The man who raised me.

The one who tried so hard to instill good values,
morality, and kindness in me…even when he suffered from his own vices.

Well, it was changing. And this time I meant it. Every
time his health deteriorated I swore I’d do something different—more visits,
different doctors, a new plan. It never worked, but this time wasn’t like
before. I let myself get distracted. Gave my heart to a man who cared so little
for me he’d work for the bastard who caused Granddad’s illnesses.

He needed the money, Maddox said. Didn’t we all? Couldn’t
selling my property buy better treatments for Granddad? Clearing his debts
would let me rebuild my shop. A little luck could turn everything around.

“Granddad?” I took his hand. He felt cold, but he always
did. Said he busted the nerves when he was shocked one too many times doing
electrical work. “How are you doing?”

His eyes opened, hidden under bushy eyebrows that turned
the same wispy white as the five o’clock shadow on his chin. He looked…paler. It
was strange. I always thought our skin shared the same shade. Even my mother
hadn’t been as dark—though I only remembered her from the pictures before the
accident. They were lost in the fire too. Hell, I couldn’t imagine her or my
dad now, even if I wanted to. It never mattered before, not when I had
Granddad.

But how much longer would I have him?

“Jo-Jo, it’s late.” He opened his eyes. “You should be
home.”

“It’s only nine, Granddad.”

“And if you want to live to a healthy age like me…” The
joke was lost in a wracking cough that hurt my own lungs. He gave up on the
smile too, waving his hand. “Go home. You don’t want to be here with an old
man.”

“No old man here.” I reached for his water before he did,
pouring him a glass. “Just a big baby. Let me help you.”

“I’m fine.”

“They said you took too many of your pills.”

His eyes closed again. “What do the doctors know?”

“Um. A lot. Like…that you took too much medication. If
you want the nurses to help—”

“Stop worrying, Jo-Jo.” His words trailed off. “You need
to let an old man rest. Can’t get any sleep around here.”

I leaned back in the chair, exhaling instead of yelling
or crying or just rehashing the same conversation again and again. I looked
away, but my gaze settled on the framed photograph on his nightstand.

Where did he find
that
?

“Granddad…” I reached for the picture, touching the faded
image. “How did you get this?”

He didn’t answer. I swallowed, but my mouth was dry.

I hadn’t seen this picture since the fire. I didn’t think
it survived.

Me. Him. Nana. At the shop. The ice cream cones stacked.

“Granddad.” I squeezed his hand. “I thought this was
gone. How…”

He stirred, frowning at the frame. His shoulders
shrugged. “Copy. Someone gave it to me.”

“Wow.” The tears returned. “I just…I haven’t seen a
picture of Nana in so long. And the shop. Look at the
shop
.”

“Take it.” He waved me away. “And those papers on the
dresser. Those are yours.”

I ducked away from the IV and took the folder. My stomach
turned.

Last will and testament. Great.

“Granddad.”

“Yours.” He forced a smile. “Now go. I’m fine. Just an
accident. Want to get some sleep.”

No arguing with him. He closed his eyes out of spite.

“Okay.” I held the frame to my chest. “But I’ll be back
in the morning.”

I left my number at the nurses’ station, just to make
sure they had a sticky note on their computer monitors in case something went
wrong. With his will and paperwork in my arms, I felt more than a little
paranoid.

Home wasn’t much better than the care facility. I pushed
through my
locked
door and ignored another barrage of calls from Maddox.

The pitter-patter of rain
tinked
off the windows.
It beat down harder as I struggled to find something to do to keep from
thinking about Granddad. Dishes didn’t help. I already did most of my laundry.
I didn’t need more cookies.

I made peanut brittle instead.

But my eyes returned to the stack of papers Granddad
passed to me. His will. I hadn’t read it, didn’t even know what would still be
relevant inside of it. Most of everything was lost in the fire, and what wasn’t
was already sworn to his debts and medical care. I thumbed through the folder
and started to read.

My feet thunked from the coffee table to the floor.

The signature and date had to be wrong. There was a
mistake.

Granddad updated his will
two days
before the
fire?

I flipped through the pages, searching for any reason he
might have updated the document. I was probably making too much out of it
though. The date meant nothing. Granddad was the superstitious one. I didn’t
see anything in lotto numbers or dice rolls.

But something roiled in my stomach, and it wasn’t a good
instinct.

My phone rang again. I answered it without looking,
fearing it was the care facility.

I should have hung up on him.

“
Josie
.” Maddox’s voice rumbled right into my
core. “
You gotta hear me out
.”

My thumb hovered over the button to disconnect.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“
I needed the money, Sweets.”

“Nolan hurt us. He burned down my shop. He wants nothing
more than to fuck me. Why would you ever take a job from him?”

“
I know
.”

My fingers trembled, too aggravated and exhausted and
emotionally drained to deal with Maddox and his lies now. “Nolan threatened me
two weeks ago. Made a pass at me and, when I rejected him, got aggressive.”

“
Mother fucker
—”

“That is the man you
worked
for. That is the man
you let trap you. He wanted to frame you, Maddox. He might have put you away if
he didn’t get everything he wanted then.”

“
What was that
?”

“Me to admit that I let you back in my life.” I
swallowed. Hard. “It was a mistake. I see that now.”

“
Josie, I needed work. I needed money
.”

“How long have you been his little errand boy? What did
you even do for him?”

“
Josie—”

“Answer the question.”

“
I did whatever he couldn’t do himself
.” Maddox
grunted. “
He paid me to rough up Bob Ragen, to get him to withdraw his offer
on the property so you’d sell only to him
.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“
You weren’t selling anyway, Sweets. I made us some
money doing what Nolan wanted
.”

“And if
Bob
burned down the shop?” I couldn’t do
this anymore. I slammed the will onto the table, but my eyes caught a familiar
name.

One that didn’t belong in Granddad’s will.

“
I swear I’m going to find who did this, Josie. I’ll
fix it. I needed money a year ago. Bad. I planned to marry you. We wanted a
baby. I couldn’t live off of Matt’s scraps for electrical work anymore, not
when people didn’t trust me enough to let me into their homes
.”

Money.

He’d wanted money.

My stomach pitted. I stared at the new name inserted in
the will.

Andrew Maddox
.

Granddad put Maddox in the will—gave him the
entirety
of his electrical business, his tools, his clients, and his blessing to marry
me.

And he had signed it…two days before the fire.

Maddox was put into the will, and then we lost the store.

He talked, but I couldn’t hold the phone steady to hear
anything he said. My mind clicked pieces of a puzzle in place that I no longer
wanted to solve.

I thought when my heart broke the pain would end.

It was just the beginning.

Maddox was in the will. He was doing work secretly for
Nolan—not just before the fire, but
after
, even when he
knew
it
was Nolan’s crime.

Unless it
wasn’t
Nolan’s doing.

The police. The fire marshal. Granddad. Delta. The entire
town thought the electrical fire was set by Maddox. I never wanted to see it,
never believed that dark side of him. But there it was—spoken every time we had
the same fight. He talked of blood. Of violence.