“The doctor said no to screen time for another week.” I cross the room and gently but firmly close her laptop. “Josie. The case can wait. The DA can wait. Everything can wait until you’re not running on pain meds.”
She glares at me. I hold my ground.
“You’re impossible,” she mutters.
“So I’ve been told.”
“I hate being useless.”
“You’re not useless. You’reinjured.”
“Same-same.”
The frustration in her voice is real, and I understand it. Josie isn’t the kind of woman who sits on the sidelines. She fights, she strategizes, she makes things happen. Being stuck in a bed while the world moves around her has to be driving her insane.
“I know this is hard,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But you almost died. Your body needs time to heal.”
“My body’s an overachiever. It’ll do what I tell it to.”
I almost grin at the outlandish statement. “That’s not how bodies work.”
“How would you know?”
“I’ve broken enough of mine to have some experience.” I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She freezes at the contact but doesn’t pull away. “Please, Josie. Let yourself rest.”
She stares at me for a long moment, something complicated moving behind her eyes.
“Maggie dropped by and said Ridgeline’s sending people?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Tomorrow. Four men, including Ginger’s brother.”
“Which one? Hank, Ralph or Bradley?”
“Bradley, but he goes by Brick.” I smile slightly.
“Good. We could use the help.” She pauses. “You also want someone to watch Isabel, right?”
Nothing slips by her.
“That’s the plan. I want to see where she goes, what she does. Figure out what she’s hiding.”
Josie nods slowly. “I guess that makes sense.”
She holds my gaze for another moment, then sighs when I tap the top of the laptop.
“Fine,” she says, handing it to me. “I’ll rest. But I reserve the right to be difficult about it tomorrow.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“And I’m not doing this because you told me to. I’m doing it because I’m tired and the pain meds are making me loopy.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
“Shut up.”
I almost laugh. Even exhausted, drugged, bruised and broken—she’s still the same sharp-tongued woman I’ve fallen for.
I set the laptop aside and move to the bed. She’s been propped up on pillows to work, but now she’s listing sideways, fighting to keep her eyes open.
