As Kage and I stepped out of the hotel, my thoughts crystallized into clarity.
I knew what I had to do.
I had to tell Josh the truth.
46
JOSH
“You’re in a remarkably good mood.” Clara cocked an amused eyebrow as I signed out from my shift. “Does the reason begin with a J and rhyme with rules?”
“Cannot confirm or deny,” I said, practically whistling.
Last week’s burglary aside, I’d had a damn good week. I’d put Michael behind me, Alex and I were on our way to being real friends again, and work had been relatively easy. For the ER, that meant no patient deaths and no mass casualty incidents, though there had been a nasty case involving an idiot with a blowtorch.
Plus, Jules’s bar exam was next week, which meant we could finally go on real dates again soon.
I already had our first post-bar date planned: a weekend trip to New York to see a special limited-time revival of Legally Blonde: The Musical, sandwiched between lots of good food and even more sex.
I’d have to trade shifts again to make the weekend happen, and it was expensive as hell on a resident’s salary, but Jules deserved it. Getting through the bar was a big deal.
“Fine. Don’t tell me, but I can guess.” Clara rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “One of these days, you’ll have to confirm your relationship, or the other nurses won’t stop hounding you about dating.”
“I’ll confirm after you admit your relationship with Tinsley is serious.” I smiled at her scowl. She’d been dating Tinsley for months and still refused to make it official. And people said I had commitment problems. “That’s what I thought.”
“Goodbye, Dr. Chen,” she said pointedly.
I laughed and waved before I left.
I’d scheduled drinks with Alex for tonight, but that wasn’t for another four hours. I had time for a shower and a quick nap, maybe a bit of New York research. I read about a dessert place there that reportedly served incredible salted caramel ice cream.
I typed in the security code when I arrived at my house and pushed the door open. One of the first things I did after the break-in was install a home security system. Alex recommended it, so I assumed it was good.
Well, it was the tenth one he recommended. The first nine were expensive as shit, but at least this one cracked his top ten.
I was already half asleep by the time I finished my shower, but the sound of the doorbell jolted me awake.
I threw on a pair of sweatpants and answered the door. Pleasant surprise filtered through me when I saw Jules standing on the front step.
“Hey, Red.” I greeted her with a cocky grin. “Can’t stay away from me, huh? Don’t blame you.” I gestured at myself. “Look at all this.”
I was still shirtless from the shower, and I didn’t want to brag or anything, but my abs were a fucking work of art.
“If I knew you had company, I would’ve waited,” she said dryly. She was carrying a large portfolio bag, which was strange, since she didn’t draw. Maybe she went shopping earlier. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt your weekly lovefest with your ego.”
“Daily,” I corrected. “Self-love is critical to maintaining one’s self-esteem. But you’re hot, so you’re allowed to interrupt.” I drew her inside and kicked the door closed behind us before planting a kiss on her lips. “Here for a study break?”
“Um, sort of.” Jules tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unusually nervous.
“Well, don’t take too long of a break. As happy as I am to see you, I want you to kick ass on this exam.” Anticipation zipped down my spine. “I have a surprise for you after it’s over.”
“Can’t wait.”
I frowned at her subdued response. Normally, she’d be hounding me about what the surprise was until I caved. “You okay?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I have something to tell you.” She drew in a long breath without meeting my eyes. “It’s about the painting the burglar stole.”
“Okay...” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not making me buy that painting we saw online the other day, are you? The one of the dogs playing poker? Because it’s cool and all, but there must be a thousand other people who own it.”
“No.” Her laugh sounded forced. “Actually, it’s a funny story. I have the painting. The one you’re missing.”
Confusion drew my brows together. “You found a print of it?”
“No.” Jules fiddled with her bag. “The real thing. The one stolen from your room.”
My smile slipped, and foreboding settled over my skin like a layer of frost. How the fuck did she get the painting when the police couldn’t even find a lead?
“What are you talking about?”
Instead of answering, Jules slowly unzipped the portfolio bag and withdrew the painting.
I stared at it blankly.
There it was, in all its brown and green glory. I’d never realized how condescending it was. The painting smirked at me, its taunt a singsong voice in my head.
I know something you don’t. And you’re not going to like it when you find out...
“That’s not all.” Jules’s voice shook so violently she sounded like a distorted version of herself.
My foreboding hardened into icy disbelief when she reached into her purse and retrieved three additional items.
My watch. My iPad. My rolled-up wad of emergency cash.
No.
She set them on the coffee table, the tremble in her hands matching the one in her voice.
No, no, no.
“Tell me you hunted down the thief and recovered those items.” I barely heard myself over the roar in my ears. “Tell me the burglar had a crisis of conscience and dropped those items on my porch when I was in the shower and you found them. Dammit, Jules, tell me something!”
Something other than the suspicion winding its way around my throat and choking off my air.
“I stole the items.” Jules’s confession hit me like a bullet in the chest. Pain pierced my flesh, making me flinch. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do it. He was blackmailing me, and I didn’t know what else to do except go along with it, and I…”
Her rambled explanation faded as the roar grew louder. Her words ran together into a murky stream that painted the world in ugly grays and vicious reds.
She was the artist, and I was trapped in a surrealist nightmare of her making.
“Who?” I latched onto the last thing I remembered hearing.
My brain was sluggish, and it took more effort than usual to get the word out.
Jules wrapped her arms around her waist. “Max.”
Max. The guy I met at Hyacinth.
Liquid dark rage seeped through my veins and into my voice at the mention of that smug-faced fucker. “Start from the beginning.”
I listened, numb, as Jules explained everything more clearly this time—the jobs she pulled in Ohio, her relationship with Max, her sex tape, his blackmail, how she broke into my house and how she finally got rid of the video and recovered the painting.
When she finished, the ensuing silence was loud enough to deafen me.
“I’m sorry.” Jules swallowed. “I should’ve told you all this earlier, but I didn’t want to ruin what we had when we were just starting to get along. I wasn’t sure how you would react, and I thought…”