Thirty and a Half Excuses
Page 97

Joe turned to me, concern on his face. “What happened?”
I waved my hand. “Oh, you know. The usual. Kidnapping, attempted murder.” But inwardly I cringed, waiting for Joe to blow up.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Really. Just bruised and banged up.”
He moved away from me, his face twisting with anger. “How did this happen. Again? Why can’t you leave these things alone?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Mason stood. “I don’t like how you’re talking to her.”
Joe turned around. “What are you still doing here? When did it become the job of the prosecuting attorney to hold a vigil with a victim?”
“Joe,” I warned.
“She doesn’t think about the consequences of what she’s doing, and you damn well know I’m right.”
Mason stood his ground. “Are you suggesting that she brings this on herself?”
Joe ran his hand through his hair, looking even more frustrated. “I’m saying she’s going to get herself killed if she doesn’t stop and think about her own safety.”
Mason’s chest rose and fell as he fought to control his fury. “Perhaps if you were actually here to witness what goes on in her life, you’d see that she did nothing to bring any of this upon herself.”
Joe’s back stiffened. “You’ve made damn sure you’re close at hand, haven’t you, Deveraux?”
Mason moved next to the bed. “I’m not doing this to Rose tonight. She’s been through too much trauma.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “You know how to find me if you need me.”
I smiled up at him, despite Joe’s glare. “Thanks, Mason.”
Joe’s face tightened, turning his attention to the wall and not looking at either of us. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you for saving her.”
Mason stopped in the open doorway, his back rigid. “I’ll always be there for Rose when she needs me.”
When Mason left the room, Joe sat on the bed next to me, picking up my hand. All the fight rushed out of his body, leaving a profound sadness in its wake. “You’re still wearing my ring.”
“Yeah.”
He looked like he was about to cry. “What happened tonight?”
I wanted to ask which part. So much had happened, and there was so much he didn’t know about.
“Detective Taylor said Jonah’s mother kidnapped you and threatened to kill you.”
“That sounds about right.”
“I told you that Jonah Pruitt was trouble.”
“Jonah Pruitt is the furthest thing from trouble I’ve met in ages. He’s just as much a victim as those poor women are.”
“You collect them don’t you?” He sounded disappointed, but somehow I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “You can’t help yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The outcasts. Bruce Wayne. Jonah Pruitt…”
I sat up. “If you add Neely Kate to that list, I’m liable to hurt you.” Something about him had changed over the last week, but I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. “When did you get back to Henryetta?”
“Just a few minutes ago.”
I looked up at the clock. “But it’s almost two in the morning. Have you been with your parents this entire time?”
He avoided my gaze. “Yes.”
And then I knew.
“You’re running for the senate aren’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
“What about us?” I asked.
He picked up my hand and kissed my palm, then looked into my eyes with a ferocity that reminded me of Joe McAlister, not Joe Simmons. “What about us? I still want to marry you, Rose. Nothing’s changed there.”
“I’d make a terrible politician’s wife, Joe. What if I have a vision at an important event? What if people ask me about my education?”
“Not everyone is like my parents.”
I started to cry.
He lifted his hand to my cheek and carefully wiped my tears. “Don’t cry, Rose. Nothing’s going to change the way I feel about you. I don’t care what anyone says.” But something was missing from his words. This wasn’t my Joe.
I stared into his eyes, afraid of my sudden decision. “I want to have a vision.” I might not see anything useful, but I was hoping I’d see us happy, so I’d know things were going to work out.
He looked surprised. “Of me?”
I nodded.
“But you hate doing that.”
“I tried one on purpose today, and now I want to try it with you.”
Joe took my hand. “Okay.” He was more certain than I was.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on Joe and the senate race and our future. Sure enough, a vision filled my sight. I stood on a stage, waving to a huge crowed. Joe’s dad stood next to me, beaming from ear to ear. “I want to present the next Arkansas Senator to the United States, Joe Simmons!”
I waved to the roaring crowd again, then turned to my left. A very pregnant Hilary walked toward me, placing a kiss on my cheek. “I told you we could win this.”
“I never doubted you.”
My eyes flew open as my tears choked the words that came out of my mouth.
Joe looked scared. “What did you see?”
“You won,” I finally managed to say.