A job listing catches my eye, and I pause to read it. Well, there are two that interest me. One is a waitress at the nicest restaurant in the area, The Copper Pot. The other is a receptionist position for a doctor in town. I recognize his name. He’s the doctor who helped Lightning when he was shot.
Dr. George Edwards.
This job listing holds my attention and distracts me from what could be happening to Goose and to our future at the moment. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I decide to send in my resume.
It’s probably a long shot, but I at least want to try. Because if I don’t try to take control of what I can right now, I’m going to feel like I’m spiraling. And the last thing Goose needs when he getsdone with whatever it is he’s doing is me acting like a complete fucking crazy person.
Maybe I should call Posey.
She would probably be very helpful in talking me off the ledge… if I allowed myself to venture toward said ledge. But as I open up my laptop and begin to work on my resume, something I haven’t had to look at since Justin made me do it three years ago when he hired me right out of high school, I can’t help but feel distracted… and a bit melancholy.
Reaching for my phone, I glance at the text message app and wonder if I should text Posey or maybe Lainey. Shaking my head, I shift my focus back to my computer and work on my resume. This is what I need to do right now.
I’m not sure how long it takes for me to get everything just the way I want it. Still, when I upload and submit it to the doctor’s office email address, I let out a long exhale. I’m not sure if it’s relief or what. I don’t get to revel in that feeling of anxious accomplishment for long because the door swings open, bouncing against the wall.
Turning my head, I watch as Justin and Maverick drag Goose into the middle of my living room and drop his seemingly lifeless, bloody body in the middle of my carpet. My lips part, my entire body frozen as I flick my gaze down to him, then up to meet Justin’s.
He is wearing an ugly expression on his face, and it doesn’t fade as he watches me. He shakes his head once, then takes a step backward, his gaze never leaving mine. I open my mouth to ask him if everything is okay, if we’re okay, but he only shakes his head once, turns around, and walks out of the apartment.
Maverick doesn’t disappear as quickly or quietly. Instead, he clears his throat. My attention shifts from the empty doorway to him. He tilts his chin slightly, his eyes moving from mine to the floor, then back to meet mine.
“Take care of him. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you both.”
Then he spins on his heels and walks out of my apartment, following the same path as Justin but gently closing the door behind him. I don’t make a move toward where Goose is immediately. Because my focus is on the way Justin looked at me and wordlessly walked away.
Until Goose moans.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CIDNEY
As I sink downto the floor beside him, all thoughts of Justin and our relationship disappear because right now, Goose needs me. When I roll him onto his back, he lets out another moan. This time, it sounds pained more than anything else.
My heart squeezes.
Then, once he’s on his back, I take him in. Justin didn’t kill him, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t come damn close. Anger courses through my veins at my cousin. The man I’ve looked up to as a pseudo-father my entire life, and now he’s done this to the man I’ve fallen in love with.
“I’m so angry,” I whisper.
I place my hand beside him and start to push up to standing. I need to gather supplies to clean him up. But before I can stand, his hand lashes out, his fingers curling around my wrist, and he holds on to me, squeezing. I freeze, waiting.
“Don’t be,” he rasps.
His voice is so hoarse and weak that I almost don’t even believe it’s him. If he weren’t lying right in front of me, Iwouldn’t believe it’s him at all. I would think it was someone else.
“How can I not be? Look at what he did to you.”
He laughs, then coughs, then moans and rocks slightly side to side. “I knew it was coming. He went easy on me.”
It’s my turn to laugh. I snort as I stand to my feet. His hand falls from my wrist, and I look down at him, taking all of him in, every battered, bloody inch of him that I can see with his clothes on. I’m sure there is more beneath them, but I haven’t inspected him yet.
“You’re a gigantic bruise mixed with blood, Goose. Nobody went easy on anyone, and if they actually did, I would hate to see what they did to you, because I’m not sure you would even be breathing.”
“Probably not.”
That statement makes my heart squeeze. The thought of him not being here with me, the idea that Justin could do that to me, to him, causes my entire body to ache from the inside out.
It’s my heart more than anything.
