Rose elected to keep the chain on the door while she talked to her sister’s apparently homicidal ex. When he growled and lunged forward, the decision seemed like a good one.
“Where is she?”
Rose took a breath and raised her eyebrows, attempting to look confused and bored. “How should I know? Thanks to you, we don’t speak, remember?”
“Hey, that was your fault, you whore—”
“Hey now!” She held up a finger, making sure to keep it out of biting distance. “You’re the one who chose to dope my vodka cranberry, you sicko! Anyone who doesn’t see that behavior as a problem needs to seek help. Which I strongly encourage you to do.”
“I know she came here. Dumb bitch thought I wouldn’t remember she kept those stupid Christmas cards you sent us every fucking year. Your address was on the back of every envelope.”
She took another step back. “We may be estranged, but I’m going to have to ask you not to disrespect my sister. Or women in general. You ever think maybe the way you call everyone with breasts a whore or a dumb bitch might be a problem?”
“Just tell me where the fuck she is, Rose.” He jutted his chin toward the floor. “I see stuff over there. Backpack and a suitcase and a cooler. You going on a trip or something?”
She wasn’t sure what pissed her off more. The smug look on his face or the fact that he was right. She forced a yawn. So boring, having a psychopath at your front door.
“I happen to have a friend coming over, and we’re going for an outdoor picnic.”
“It’s fucking fifty degrees out here. You’re going to have a picnic when it’s this cold?”
“You have your fun, and I have mine, sir.”
Sir. As if.
He shook his head. “I know you know where she is.”
“I do not.” Technically not entirely a lie. If Lily was smart, she’d have stayed hidden in the garage or snuck out the back door, but Rose couldn’t be sure, and that was probably for the best.
How did she get this guy to leave? Maybe if she made him think she’d given him something useful.
“Okay, fine.” Rose sagged against the wall, as if Ron’s rigorous questions had worn her poor female brain out. She eyed the chain in hopes that it would hold. “She came here this morning.” True. “I gave her some money and some clothes.” Also true. “She said it would be safer if she left.” Hot damn, she was on fire.
“Where the fuck did she go?”
“I don’t know where she is now, but with any luck, she’s already on a bus out of town.”
It would be nice if Lily were on her way out of town. Rose gave herself a mental pat on the back. Not so bad at lying, when she needed to be.
Ron paced the tiny rectangle of space in front of Rose’s door. His face grew cloudy and dark with each step, having some kind of a mental war over whether to believe Rose, and whether he could get any further information from her. Or maybe he was still thinking of bashing her door in for fun. Who knew the mind of a violent asshole?
The adrenaline was taking its toll. Rose’s legs shook with the passing seconds, her palms slipping on the wall. She counted her breath in hopes he wouldn’t notice her fear, and then inhaled deeply. “She’s gone, Ron. You can’t treat a woman like crap and expect her to stay forever. For all I know, she’s halfway to Canada by now.”
Apparently, that was the wrong suggestion. “She doesn’t have a passport. She wouldn’t go there. You’re lying.”
Rose shook her head. “How the hell would I know? It was a random example. Far away. That was the point. Canada, California, the Republic of Chad. Someplace far away.”
Great. Now they couldn’t go to Canada or California. Or Chad. Lucky there was still a lot of earth left.
But something must have given her away. Maybe it was the tremor in her voice or the one in her knees, but his eyes zeroed in on her through the crack in the door. Locked on as if he’d found a target—and Rose forgot to pretend she wasn’t afraid of him.
She forgot how to swallow.
“No.” That single syllable dripped venom. “She’s here, isn’t she.”
“I already told you—”
“Yeah, I know what you fucking told me. Don’t believe you.”
A few fast steps brought them both to the door. Her to shove it closed, him to shove his fist through the opening. Rose wasn’t quite fast enough, and Ron seemed more concerned about getting to her than a little thing like a door closing on his hand.
“Bitch, I swear to God I’ll—!”
The yelling faded in Rose’s head. Muffled sounds that came as if from far away, jumbled by panic and some strange buzzy-whining sound outside that cut through his shouts.
“Wait…”
“…cunt, fucking…”
“Those are sirens,” she whispered to herself. Not buzzing. Not her imagination. Sirens.
Ron couldn’t hear her. Juiced on anger and adrenaline and—she hoped—fueled by the press of her body against the door trapping his arm, he shouted indignation until she was quite sure he’d been heard in Canada. No wonder the cops had been called. One of her neighbors must have heard the shouting.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to step away from the door!”
“Bitch trapped my arm!”
Rose stepped back enough to allow Ron to pull away. She slammed it shut with a huge sigh.
Off to the side, Lily stuck her head out of the hall door that led to the garage. Her sister’s eyes bugged wide with worry.
“I heard him yelling. I didn’t know what to do.”
Rose shook her head. “It’s better if he doesn’t know you’re here. The cops just arrived, so we should be okay. At the very least, they can make him leave.”
Another bang on the door. She expected a cop, asking her to come out and give a statement. Instead, she heard Josh calling her name, and an unexpected wave of release sent her to her knees.
Saying goodbye—again—gave Josh the worst case of heartburn he’d ever had. “I hate not knowing when I’ll see you.”
“I’ll let you know something when I can.” Rose rubbed her cheek against his. “Thank you. For calling the cops.”
Just the thought of listening to that mess made him go cold again. “It scared the crap out of me, hearing him over the phone and not being close enough to help you.”
“You were here when it mattered.”
He pulled a business card from his wallet. “Here. This is for you.”
She flipped the card in her hands. “A real estate agent? In Florida? I don’t understand.”
“Please, let me help. Talking to my brothers reminded me I have this place that’s standing open. The plan was to sell it, but I’m going to give it to you instead. For a week, for a year, or for however long you need. That card gets you in touch with the guy who manages the property.”
“Josh…this is huge. I can’t accept a house from you. And I can’t make you any promises. About us. Not when my sister needs help.”
Josh glanced through Rose’s car window at Lily, who waved, oblivious to their conversation. “No strings, Rose. The property is in central Florida. It’s been empty for a month or two I think. I don’t know what shape it’s in. But everything is in my name, so it’ll give you a place to go where you’ll be a lot harder to find.”
Tears rimmed Rose’s eyes. She kissed him. Deep and hard and full of gratitude, but also full of goodbye. Shit.
Josh’s heart squeezed. “I want you to make me a deal.”
She parted her lips. “Now might not be the best time for—”
“Same deal as before. When we thought I’d be going to Colorado and you’d be staying here, and I said if we could manage long distance for a little while then we’d find a way to get closer.”
“But that was before. If I’m way down in the Sunshine State and you’re… Where are you going to be?”
Josh wished he knew for certain. “I don’t know. I know you can’t promise anything, and I can’t either. All I want is for us to agree we’ll try.”
He used his thumb to brush a tear from her cheek. Told himself Rose was safe, and as long as that was true, he hadn’t lost her for good. Still, this felt oddly final.
“Okay.” She nodded. “Sure. We can always try.”
“Thank you,” he breathed. Heart racing, he kissed her again. His fingers spanned her waist then her hips, as he mapped out her curves and her edges one last time, in case he didn’t get the chance again. Then he pushed himself to step away.
“Go. I don’t know how long the police will hang on to Ron, but after what happened here, you need the best head start you can get. Be safe, okay?”
“We will. Promise.”
He walked away before she finished getting in the car. Watching her leave wasn’t something he could do. Not today.
By the time he made it back to the car, he had a call from Michael. “Everything okay? Your kid has beaten me three times at something called Dystomania and called me an unflattering name, so we’re all good here.”
Josh’s lungs unlocked enough to let him breathe. Like when Kara passed—and watching Rose leave felt awfully similar—there wouldn’t be much time to grieve. He had a son to take care of.
“Listen, Mike. Thanks for your help. I’m headed back right now…and I think we need to talk again.”