by Sosie Frost
“Out of jail.”
His expression pinched. Freddie was a good friend of Matthias Davis. I hadn’t seen Josie’s granddad yet, but, judging by his reception, Matt wouldn’t welcome me with open arms either. Not that he did before, but at least he’d understood that I loved Josie and wanted to take care of her.
“I know cars,” I said. “Willing to work whatever hours you got.”
Freddie eyed the sign in the window. He set his jaw. “Spot’s filled.”
The calendar behind him was scrawled with more cars and appointments than he could handle. The phone rang twice while I stared him down.
“Doesn’t look filled.”
“The Kennen’s boy is helping on weekends.”
A man could only take so much bullshit before breakfast. “Donny or Nate?”
“Nate. Donny’s off in Ironfield, running his poor parents ragged.” Freddie snorted. “Thought he was one of your…acquaintances.”
A polite word for gang. “Haven’t been in Ironfield for a long time. Wouldn’t know.”
“Thought Donny was involved with Chelsea. Last I saw them at least.”
“Not for a while.”
Freddie’s eyebrow arched. “A couple weeks back.”
Motherfucking liar. My sister didn’t have much in the way of dignity, but I scraped what remained of mine to give to her. She owed nothing to any man anymore—not debts, not her body. If he wanted to insult me, he should have insulted me. My sister was no one’s punching bag.
I stared, hard. “No job?”
Freddie shrank away. “Nothing here.”
“Fine.”
I slammed the door on the way out. The sign fell from the window. Fuck it. Had a feeling a lot of Help Wanted signs would get stuffed in the trash when I came around.
Had my day not already turned to shit, I would have been surprised to find the black Escalade waiting for me on the corner, blinkers on. I considered ignoring the ride…
But my job prospects were thin enough.
His driver opened the back door for me.
Nolan Rhys greeted me with a devil’s grin. I offered him a martyr’s silence. Blood could boil and bones break, but nothing would tempt me to jeopardize my vengeance. Nolan was the true criminal—a man who bought my muscle and shuffled his dirty work onto others. Money bought power and a form of innocence. I lost mine long ago. The least I could do was get a couple grand for my trouble.
My past was ruined and lost, but I had a future to plan.
A future with Josie.
If she’d have me.
Nolan gestured to his driver. “Go. Maddox and I need to talk.”
The driver obeyed, adjusting his suit and tie before parading his charge throughout Saint Christie. The mayor had bulked up since I saw him last. Nothing like me, but he filled his suits with more than just money now. Apparently, he had someone new to impress.
“Has your debt to society been paid?” Nolan smirked.
His politician charm transformed into sheer condescension. I still remembered him from high school. His scrawny ass would have landed in the dumpsters had his father not pay-rolled half the town.
Nolan tried again. “Do you think you’ve been rehabilitated, Maddox, or did the system fail your family again?”
I didn’t answer. The SUV lurched onto the road and took a right off the main drag, surveying the more affluent parts of town. These were streets where I didn’t belong. Chief Craig had a habit of sending out his officers when I crossed the intersection.
Hell, if the chief knew I was in town, cruising by his house, he’d toss my ass in jail cell for any bullshit excuse he could falsify.
I waited for the moment I’d meet with him again. I’m sure the chief and I had a lot to discuss.
And a lot of blood to draw.
At least when I banded with men in the city, people knew we were no good. Here, I couldn’t shed any reputation. I didn’t belong in their town—not because of my crimes, but because of the family that shat me into the world and the addictions that eventually killed them.
Nolan stared ahead, his voice flat. “I thought I told you to stay away from her.”
“Fuck you.”
“One request, Maddox. That was all.”
I gritted my teeth. The asshole had no authority to corral Josie. I wasn’t about to honor anything that kept me from her.
“So you didn’t learn any obedience in prison?” Nolan asked.
“You thought I would?”
“I hoped you’d gain some respect for authority.”
“You’re not my authority.”
Nolan disagreed. “Look, I arranged for your parole. Made a couple calls, pulled a few strings. Not to sound conceited, but I expected a bit of gratitude from a convicted arsonist, especially for saving you from another ten years in a six by six cement block.”
“Six by eight.”
“A veritable mansion.”
“You’ll be measuring for curtains soon enough.” I let my warning rumble. “They kept the cell next to mine empty for you.”
“Unlike you, I make the laws, I don’t break them.”
“No. I’m just the one who got paid the price.” I gritted my teeth. “But you knew I was innocent.”
“I knew you were a gang member. Priors on your record from your teenage years. You associated with known criminals, drug dealers, and whores.”
My teeth would crack if I clenched my jaw any harder. Pain didn’t make me any more patient or tolerant, but neither did defending my sister from the judgment of the world.
“What the hell do you want, Nolan?”
“I have work for you.”
“Not interested.”
“Oh?” He pocketed his phone. “And how did the interview with Freddie Baulder go?”
“Think I can’t find my own work?”
“In this town?” Nolan gestured beyond the SUV as we toured his kingdom. “What jobs do you think are available to you?”
“I don’t know, Mayor Rhys. Have an unemployment problem here?”
“Only with convicted felons.” He paused. “You honestly believe you’ll find a living here?”
“I might.”
“Doing what? Electrical work?” He laughed. “Matthias Davis took you as an apprentice—a favor to Josie. After you burned down his granddaughter’s store, I doubt many of my citizens will be eager to invite you into their homes to update their basements.”
“I didn’t burn it down.”
“It was an electrical fire.” He laughed, watching as I seethed. “Who else would it have been?”
I stared the asshole down. Nolan was the only man in town who didn’t avoid my gaze. That would end soon enough.
The car turned another corner, passing the town’s only grocery store. People swarmed the aisles inside like they lined up for communion, all gathered around their chosen priest—Luann McMannis. Gossip spread easier than salvation. Soon enough, everyone in town would know I asked Freddie for the job.
The news had yet to cascade down the street, past the florist, insurance company, bank, and city hall. I gave it an hour before people would hear and the word would get to Josie.
Then what would she think?
“I have work for you,” Nolan said. “You need money.”
“I told you to fuck off.”
“You need money. I need a man to do a few jobs.” He shrugged. “We worked together before.”
“Shit’s changed.”
“It hasn’t. You were always going to end up in jail, breaking her heart.”
“What the fuck do you know about her heart?” The words burned. “If I catch you harassing Josie—”
Nolan interrupted me, wielding some sanctified tone. “I told you to stay away from her. It was part of your agreement when I freed you from prison.”
“You really think I’m a man of my word?”
“For her, you are.”
The SUV parked in front of the vacant lot. I still saw the flames, the f
ire, the flashing lights. They’d shoved me in the cruiser before I knew if Josie had been seriously hurt in the fire. I didn’t know what happened until the next day when a cop left an old newspaper close enough to my jail cell. She was alive. Matt nearly died.
Everyone blamed me.
She didn’t come to see me at the hearing. Didn’t go to the trial. Never came to visit in prison.
Nolan rapped his fingers against the window, teasing me with the sight of the vacant lot. “I need you to do a job. I’ll pay you well.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll pay you double if you never see her again.”
“It’ll take more than a couple thousand dollars to keep me away from her.”
“Ten.”
“Don’t put a price on a girl like her.”
Nolan snorted. “And you would know about woman and their prices? How much was your sister worth to you? To her johns?”
I’d break his neck. Instead, I stared at the empty lot, the lost opportunities, the reason Josie wasn’t mine.
“You won’t keep me from her,” I said.
“She deserves better. You’re no good for her.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But she makes me want to be better.”
“Why ruin her future?” Nolan straightened his tie. “I could give her more.”
“She hates you.”
“Only because you hated me. Given time, without your influence, she’d see what I could give her. More than anything you’d offer.”
“Yeah?”
“A solid home. A good future. Success. I aim to begin my political career at the state level. Run for governor when I’m thirty-five. A woman like Josie would help my career.”
“Secure that African-American vote with a black wife on your arm?”
Nolan’s practiced smile would win debates but not Josie’s heart. “My policies would reflect my commitment to all my constituents.”
“Of course.”
“Stay away from her, Maddox.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Nolan exhaled. He pulled an envelope from his suit. Instructions for a job, delivered in the same manner he used to conduct our business. I might have shoved it down his throat, but I needed some money, if only to get me started again. The longer I stayed without incident, the easier it’d be to convince people I was safe.
And then I could get her back.
“You’re only endangering her, Maddox. Stay away before someone gets hurt.”
I took the envelope. “I’m staying to make sure she’s safe.”
“From who?”
“Take a wild fucking guess.” I kicked the car door open. “If I see you hanging around her, you’re a dead man.”
“Payment upon completion of the job.”
“I remember.”
Nolan pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. He tucked them on and surveyed his town.
“And as always, we both exercise complete discretion. The town doesn’t find out.” He nodded to me. “And I won’t tell Josie that you’re bloodying your knuckles for her enemy.”
I slammed the door. The SUV peeled out and left me where I started.
Not just today, but a year ago.
A job in my pocket, money from the wrong people, and no way to provide for a woman who deserved that sugar-sprinkled life.
It’d change. I’d change.
Josie would be mine. I’d earn back my spot in her heart. I’d have her for my own, and I’d make all her dreams come true.
First, I’d find the bastard who framed me and bleed him for my revenge.
Then, Josie would give me the only thing I want.
A family.
5
Josie
Maddox was the only man who tempted me to do something very naughty with my buttercream icing. That made him the wrong man for me. He was the tablespoon of salt in my recipe—the accident that didn’t ruin the dish but made it that much harder.
I recovered from his visit. At least, my body did. My heart? Kinda forgot to hop on board. I wasn’t ready to confront those feelings, it wasn’t safe to admit those feelings, so I buried myself in cake flour and filled every available space in my apartment with ten different types of cookies.
Chocolate chip mended broken hearts.
Macadamia nut were good for forgetting.
The multi-colored meringue cookies helped to focus my concentration, especially when Maddox turned my thoughts from sugar and spice to everything naughty…but nice.
I double-plastic wrapped the more fragile lattice-sugar cookies and tinned the rest in pretty bundles with my shop’s decals. I didn’t have enough to decorate all the packages, but everyone would know where the treats came from.
And one day, they’d line up at my store again to buy their own dozen.
Hopefully.
I loaded my car to the brim with more cookies than I had space in my little Ford. I counted the batches and sighed. I hadn’t tried to sleep after Maddox left on Friday night. Instead I baked straight through Saturday into Sunday and finally dozed off on a batch of oatmeal raisins. I caught the cookies before they burned, but not before I realized I was in trouble.
Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined my apartment door slamming shut again. Part of me hated myself for letting Maddox stay the night. The other part was listening too intently for his return. I told him to leave, but when did Maddox ever listen to anyone?
How was he released from prison so soon?
What was I supposed to do to save him now?
It was too early to head to Nolan’s rally. Fortunately, the event was close to Granddad. I detoured to Willowbend Health Center to check on him…even if Granddad hadn’t been in the greatest of moods for visits.
He hated the home. I wished he hadn’t called it that—especially since the assisted care facility was one of the best and most expensive in the state. I spent every last cent of the insurance money on a room for him, planning for him to bounce back from the injuries so we could rebuild and start fresh together.
That was before I learned about his debts. Then the doctors warned his prognosis was poor.
I didn’t know what we’d do, especially since Granddad wasn’t…himself anymore. He cursed the nurses, refused his treatments, and complained about the butterscotch pudding. I didn’t like that it came from a box either, but at least he was alive to complain about it.
I buttered up the nurses he exasperated with enough cookies to earn their patience. Poor Larry was on duty at the station, hiding behind a hunting magazine. I passed him the plate of chocolate chips and accepted his canonization of my sainthood.
Granddad’s door was closed. I gently rapped on the frame. He grunted, and it was about the best we’d get. He acted like he wanted to smile when he saw me, but Granddad rarely allowed it anymore. Said the oxygen tubes made him look more machine than man.
He looked like the same man I remembered. My loving, wonderful grandfather—just a bit older, just a bit frailer, but he was still there.
Somewhere.
“Hey, Granddad,” I said. “I was in the neighborhood.”
He reached for the remote. For a second, I thought he might turn off the TV. At least he lowered the volume.
“How are you feeling?” I took the seat next to him. Was it possible his hair grayed even more in the few days since I saw him last? “The nurses said you had a bad night?”
“Every night is bad, Jo-Jo.”
His voice rasped. The coughing started. They must have cranked the oxygen up for him—hell, I heard the air hissing through the tubes. His lungs were bad before the fire, but I didn’t know how much smoke and debris he inhaled while he was trapped inside.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” I pulled my phone, prepared for a list. “I’m out and about today. I can go to the store, get you some popcorn or a soda or…”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t sound fine. The words were curt, bitten. Not at all how he used to talk to me. Hell, Nana would have slapped h
im across the face if he ever took that tone with either of us.
But Nana was gone, had been since I was thirteen. I was glad she didn’t see him like this.
“Know what I miss most about the shop?” I asked.
I tucked my feet under me, settling in. Granddad grunted. He hated when I talked about Sweet Nibbles, but the doctors said it was good for him—something that might draw him out of the depression.
“Remember that picture that used to hang by the register?” I said.
“No.”
“Yes, you do. It was the one when I was little. Me on the counter, you and Nana behind me. She was handing me that ridiculously huge ice cream cone. Four scoops and they were all toppling.”
“Five scoops.”
I smiled. Granddad rubbed his face, his dark hands trembling as a rickety cough shuddered through his chest. He whooped a few times, and I handed him the little cup of water on his nightstand.
“I wish I had that photo,” I said. “I miss Nana. I’m starting to forget what she even looked like.”
“Look in the mirror.” Granddad didn’t take his eyes from the television. “You’re her, fifty years ago. Same cheekbones. Same lips. Hell, you scold me the same goddamn way. Think I’d get any peace after working a long day? Nah. Your Nana would find me after work and drag my keister home for dinner every night.”
I nodded, though I knew the real reason Nana was grabbing him for dinner. So did the rest of the town. Granddad was a good man, an honest man, but he had liked to drink.
And he really loved to gamble.
Too much.
“So…did you ever decide if you wanted to sell your electrical business?” I pretended like the option hadn’t weighed on my mind. “We might be able to get some money from it. We could sell the client list.”
“To who?”
I picked at a fraying bit of string on my sleeve. “Maddox.”
“That trouble-maker’s in jail.”
“He got out.”
“What?” Granddad turned, catching his hands in his oxygen tubes as he pointed at me. “You stay away from that boy.”
“You took him in as your apprentice.”
“Yeah, because I thought he was going to get you in trouble.”
“Granddad.”
