“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I rubbed a hand over my damp face and glanced at the still unconscious Max. My stomach lurched again. “What are we going to do about him?”
“Don’t worry. He won’t go to the police.” Alex walked over to him and nudged his prone form with disdain. “It’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
True. Max was only a few months out of jail, and he’d already committed aggravated assault and was involved in a conspiracy to commit grand larceny. If the police looked into his background, he was fucked.
“And if he comes after us later?” I asked.
“Please. He’s a common thief trying to play in a league above his own.” Alex sounded unimpressed. “Plus, if what he said was true, he has enough problems to worry about without trying to take revenge on us. Whoever wants your hideous painting will keep him busy.”
“It’s not hideous,” I growled. “It’s unusual, and it’s worth a lot of money.”
I’d shopped the painting around after Jules’s confession. It was tainted with bad memories, and like Max said, the people after it would come after me if I held onto it. I was lucky they hadn’t already. I guess they didn’t trust Max enough to finish the job Jules started.
The only way to get Max’s mysterious “friends” off my back and not screw over the next owner was to sell it to someone no one would dare steal from.
I finally found a suitable buyer yesterday, and we were scheduled to sign the contract in two days, after he returned from a business trip.
I assumed whoever was tracking the piece would know I’d sold it, but just in case they didn’t, the buyer promised to publicize the sale.
“Enough about the painting. Even if Max won’t call the police, we can’t just leave him here.” If we did, he might very well die of blood loss, and Alex was right. I wasn’t a murderer. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anyone died at my hands.
The urge to vomit returned. “He needs medical attention.”
Alex’s sigh contained multitudes of exasperation. “You and Ava. So driven by your consciences. No wonder you’re siblings,” he muttered. “Fine. I’ll send someone to take care of him.”
“Take care of him as in…”
Another, deeper sigh. “As in medical attention, Josh. I’m not going to kill him. I barely know him.”
“Right.” With Alex, it was always best to double check.
At his suggestion, I rinsed off in the upstairs shower and changed into one of his spare outfits while he took care of the situation.
By the time I emerged, Max was already gone and Alex sat in the living room, scrolling through his phone.
“What the fuck? Do you have magical house elves or something?” I sank next to him on the couch.
I felt better after the shower. Not good, but better, though images of Max’s bloodied form would haunt me for a long while.
I swallowed the lump of guilt in my throat.
“No. I have a highly competent, highly paid team.” Alex didn’t look up from his phone. “Besides, you were in the shower for an hour. A geriatric grandmother could’ve taken care of Max in that time.”
“Bullshit. I was in there ten minutes, tops.”
“That’s not what the clock says.”
I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. He was right. It’d been over an hour since I jumped into the shower.
I mentally added loss of time awareness to the long list of shit I needed to worry about.
“I’m going crazy.” I closed my eyes and pressed a fist to my forehead. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
I felt like a passenger who didn’t know their train had flown off the rails until they looked out the window and saw the ground rushing toward them.
One minute, I lived a charmed life—popular and accomplished, with a great family and great friends. The next, it all burst into flames until only ashes were left.
“If it’s about Max, don’t feel too bad. He’s a piece of shit, and he had it coming. But he’ll survive.” Alex slid a glance in my direction. “You never answered my question earlier. Do you feel better?”
I hated to admit it, but… “Yeah.”
The dark cloud that had stalked me for two years was still present, but it was lighter. More manageable.
“Good. Now explain Jules to me.”
“Jesus Christ.” I cracked my eyes open and glared at Alex. Renewed tension zipped down my spine and turned my muscles into stone. “There’s nothing to explain, but if you’re curious, she’s five-six with red hair, hazel eyes—”
“You almost beat a man to death because he hurt her,” Alex said. “Don’t insult me by pretending she doesn’t mean anything to you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, regretting, not for the first time, my eighteen-year-old self’s decision to befriend the man sitting next to me.
Still, after keeping my relationship—my former relationship—with Jules secret for so long, it would be nice to talk about it with someone…even if said someone had the emotional range of a teaspoon.
“You promise not to tell Ava?” I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet.
“I promise not to bring it up, but if she asks me about it directly, I’ll tell her the truth.” Alex lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Sorry.”
I’ve never heard anyone sound less sorry in my life. But the chances of Ava asking about me and Jules were low; she still thought we hated each other.
After a long moment of deliberation, I explained the whole saga to Alex, starting with my and Jules’s clinic truce and ending with her visit to the ER.
When I finished, the pressure had resettled in my chest, and Alex stared at me with an uncharacteristic glint of disbelief in his eyes.
“What?”
“Ninety-nine percent of people in this world are idiots,” he said. “I regret to inform you that you’re one of them.”
My brows snapped together. “I’m convinced you don’t actually want to be my friend again.”
Where was the ass kissing? The flattery? He gave up his company and flew to fucking London for Ava, but I couldn’t get so much as a sympathetic that sucks, man? Talk about getting the short end of the grovel stick.
“I’ll send you flowers later if you’re that upset about it,” Alex said dryly. “But first, listen to yourself. You’re in love with Jules, for God knows what reason, and you’re upset she lied after she told you the truth?”
My shoulders tensed. “I’m not in love with her.”
“You almost killed someone for her.”
“So? You almost kill someone every day. It’s nothing special.”
“Don’t try to change the subject. You’re bad at it.” Alex flicked a piece of lint off his pants. “You say I don’t actually want to be your friend again? Then I’ll give you something you say you want so much. The truth.”
“Which is?”
“That you’re a stubborn fuck who’s too blind to see what’s right in front of you.”
My tension hardened into a migraine. “I changed my mind. I don’t want the truth.”