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Once Upon A Half-Time 2(107)

By:Sosie Frost


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 fire, 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.