Galilee Rising(74)

"He left me alive. Supports the theory."

"Maybe. Or he has something bigger planned," he offers.

"You don't buy he just popped over for a chat and to use the computer?"

"Do you?" I just stare at him. "Didn't think so."

I put my hand on his. "So, what are we going to do?"

He pulls his hand away and stands. "You are spending the night here, then tomorrow you're being released into Brendan and Lexie's care. Then you can either stay with them until we've defeated him or do the smart thing and leave town."

"We've been through this. I didn't run from Ryder, I'm not running from your brother."

"Yes, because your decision to remain in town had such a good outcome last year. You really want to go through an ordeal like that again?"

"Your brother is an international criminal. If he wants me dead, which he could have accomplished today, he could do it just as easily in France as here."

This realization doesn't assuage his fear, or mine for that matter. If possible his long face collapses even further. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for putting you in this situation."

"Stop saying that. It's not your fault. I don't blame you."

"I blame me. I know my brother. I should have known this would happen. I just--I don't know what to do, Joanna. I--"

"Hey." Jem's still close enough for me to take his hand again. He doesn't pull away. He doesn't even put up even a tiny fight when I hug him again. He even sits on the bed and embraces me back, squeezing me even tighter than I am him. "We'll figure this out. It'll all be okay. I know it." I kiss his cheek. "Just don't give into him. He wants you distracted. He wants you torturing yourself. Don't. Just don't. You don't deserve it."

Jem moves back enough to see my face, I think maybe to see if I'm sincere. I smile and cup his chin in my hands, rubbing my thumbs across his cheekbones before leaning in for a kiss. I anticipate hesitation but he allows this, though he barely kisses me back. He breaks away first, resting his forehead on mine. "I have to go. Any longer could raise suspicions."

"Okay," I whisper.

"I won't let him hurt you again."

I peck his lips. "Ditto."

He kisses my forehead before standing and walking to the door without looking back. I lay down against my pillow and sigh. Fuck. Oh, fuck. I'm scared. Not because a demented psycho has me on his radar, although that is a big, damn concern. No, because I recognize look I just viewed in Jem's eyes. Once in mine when I was twelve then in Justin's twenty years later after he lost everything. There's nothing worse in the whole universe than hopelessness. Nothing. Justin saved me from its clutches, then I saved him, at least temporarily. If there is a God in heaven please give me the strength to save Jem. Please.



*



Two things I hate more than anything are being beholden and being an invalid. Thanks to Jordan Ambrose I'm now both. Asshole. I did have a minor concussion and the anesthetic still in my system made me lightheaded so I can barely stand, which meant I had to be observed outside the hospital for at least a day. But even if I was the picture of health, it was three against one in the "Joanna can be alone" vote, so for the foreseeable future I will inhabit the guestroom at Casa Darby. As I'm not a total moron I saw the logic and didn't put up a fight. At least not today. I was released mid-morning and Lexie swung by in her Mercedes to pick us up. I rest in the backseat slumped like a sullen teenager while my parents in front discuss my curfew and rules of the house such as no going out alone or leaving without telling them. Oh, and no food in my room. This should be fun.

We drive to the mansion to pack my bags, pick up Brendan's car, and check the damage to Doris. There are a few paparazzi outside my gate as we pull in. People seem to think I was drunk and fell down. Let them. My PR team will sort it out, and I'll play along. Dobbs must have been listening for the gate because even before we park behind Brendan's Hummer, he steps out. The old man's face falls when he sees me, as Lexie's did before. I haven't looked in the mirror but I know it ain't good. I meet Dobbs halfway to the door.

"Oh, Miss Joanna. I am so sor--"

I hug him. His body stiffens. He must not know what to make of my uncharacteristic PDA. "You didn't do anything wrong. There is nothing to forgive. I'm fine." I release his frail body. "But I am starving, and we have guests. Come on."

Everyone follows me inside. Dobbs retires to the kitchen to fix me a sandwich while the heroes and I go assess the damage. The living room bears no signs of the night before. Dobbs must have cleaned up the broken glass. I was worried I'd be apprehensive, possibly even have a panic attack, but feel nothing. Yippee, I can live in my home without losing my marbles.