Emergency Attraction (Love Emergency 2)

Safe? Yes. Sound? Debatable. But she simply nodded and offered Nelle a weak smile. “Thanks. Where is he?”

“He’s still in Magnolia Grove, talking with the police, giving a statement, or pressing charges, or whatever it is they need to lock that crazy fool up and throw away the key. When I spoke to him, I got the impression he’d be there a while.”

Madison cleared her raw throat. “Cody’s in jail?”

“I think he’s at the hospital, just now, but he’s in custody. They charged him with assault, battery, attempted kidnapping, driving under the influence, grand theft auto—the car was stolen—possession and consumption of illegal substances, breaking and entering, because Atlanta PD confirmed the prints, and…I don’t know…a whole bunch of other crimes. A judge will have to set bail, and that won’t happen before Monday, but it’s going to be hefty. Apparently he’s already told the police he doesn’t have a means of posting, so he’s going to be with them for the duration.” She gave Madison’s knee a reassuring pat. “He’s out of your hair.”

Madison let out a breath and nodded, but instead of relief, numbness started to set in. “Do I need to contact the police?”

“They’ll reach out to you next week for your statement.”

“I lost my phone.”

“Hunter has it, but it’s beyond repair. They’ll contact you here or at work.”

She nodded again. New phone. Another unbudgeted expense, but a small price to pay, all things considered.

“Do you want to use mine to call him?” Nelle asked gently. “I think you’d both feel better if you talked.”

“No.” She dragged her attention to her neighbor’s kind face. “It’s past time I let him off the hook.”

“Honey, I’m not sure why he hasn’t said so, but I think he likes being on the hook when it comes to you and Joy.”

But he hadn’t said so, which likely meant deep down he realized the timing sucked, and he didn’t need any hooks in him. The best way to thank him for everything he’d done for the Foley girls was to get out from under his roof. Starting now. Have the decency to do one thing to help him meet his goals. Mostly she’d taken over his home, imposed upon his time and resources, and complicated his life.

Madison Foley. Queen of only doing one thing right in every relationship.

“Nelle, there is a call I need to make. Could I borrow your phone?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Hunter got a bad feeling when he pulled up to his house and saw the empty driveway. At two thirty in the morning she probably hadn’t gone on a diaper run. Maybe she’d parked in the garage? He parked in the driveway, and because he didn’t want to disturb the neighbors with the sound of a garage door at this time of night, walked around to the front door.

As soon as he stood in the entryway, he knew. He sensed the stillness of the space even before more tangible clues hit his radar. Madison usually left the bathroom or hallway light on at night, so neither of them would run into a wall while attending to Joy in a half-asleep state. No light tonight. No little baby snores coming from Joy’s room. No nothing.

A cold, blunt inevitability hollowed out his chest. Still, he clicked on the living room light and tossed his ruined jacket on the sofa, barely noticing when the cufflinks, studs, and ring box spilled out and tumbled onto the rug. The baby swing was gone. He strode to the bedroom and turned on the light. “Madison?”

No. His neatly made bed sat empty. The bottle of lube and box of condoms on the night table offered up the only signs anyone besides him had ever been there.

Moving on autopilot, he reversed course and headed down the hall to the guestroom. The door hung open. He could see the baby bed was gone. For some reason he needed more proof, so he turned on the light and opened the closet door. Empty. Just like the surface of the dresser where Madison kept Joy’s baby supplies. The sight of the clear, organized study space left him sick to his stomach. He turned to leave, when a bit of pink sticking out from the other side of the daybed caught his eye. He walked over and looked down. The oversized pink bear stared up at him.

He wanted to kick it but picked the damn thing up instead, and then, because he was some kind of masochist, he buried his face in the plush fur and inhaled the scent of baby lotion. The cold, hollow feeling in his chest invaded his stomach. Fuck him. He put the bear on the bed walked away before he did something pathetic.

Madison wouldn’t leave without a word. She wouldn’t do that to him. He strode into the kitchen and turned that light on as well. Why not light the fucking place up like a carnival midway? It wasn’t as if he’d disturb anyone.

On the kitchen counter sat a small stack of mail—Saturday’s delivery—topped by a folded sheet of paper. He walked to the cabinet over the fridge and pulled down a bottle of Jim Beam. He opened another cabinet to get a glass then cursed and opened the one beside it. After washing and putting away his dishes for the better part of a month, she’d managed to rearrange things so nothing was ever where he remembered it living. On the third try he found a short glass, tossed three cubes of ice into it, and poured four fingers of whiskey on top. The air in the cubes cracked with a series of hard pops as the golden liquid flooded the gaps. He put the bottle on the counter but didn’t re-cap it, and drank, slamming it down fast so the ice hit his teeth and the alcohol burned his throat. Then he stepped over to the pile of mail, picked up the sheet of paper, and flipped it open. A handful of hundred dollar bills fell out.

Dear Hunter,

The list of things I have to thank you for is so ridiculously long, writing them out would take up all your printer paper, so I’ll just leave it at thank you, for everything.

I’m sorry the bad decisions I made in my past came down on you, especially what happened today with Cody. I would never have forgiven myself if you’d been hurt rescuing me. Again.

Which brings me to the other point of this letter. Hunter, it’s time to bring this rescue to an end. You need your life back, and I need to start handling mine on my own. I wanted to surprise you with this news at the wedding, (unfortunately, like too many of my plans, this one didn’t work out), but I made arrangements to move into a place with one of my coworkers. She has a little girl, too, and a safe apartment near work, and she suddenly found herself in need of a new roommate. I think it’s fate’s way of saying, “Okay, Madison, time to give up the safety net.”

It’s going to take me a day or two to get a new phone, but once I do, I’ll call you and let you know how we’re doing. Otherwise, I’m going to back off and give you your space. You’re going to hear from schools soon (see mail!). You have decisions to make and goals to pursue. I need to stand on my own two feet, which means I have to stop leaning on you.

Joy and I are so lucky to have met you. You saved us, plain and simple. I am forever grateful, but…I can’t help wishing we’d met under different circumstances. I like to imagine a tall, handsome paramedic comes into The Grind on a random afternoon and flashes a sexy smile at me as he orders. I get flustered and mess up the order. He laughs and says I can make it up to him by meeting him after work for a drink. I say yes. We date, take things slow, and get to know each other like two normal people would. Nobody’s in need. Nobody’s riding to the rescue.