Page 29 of Broken Promises

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“I’m busy,” I repeated, hitting the button for the elevator.

“All weekend?” She winced as she stared up at me.

Truth was, Josie was hot, but I wasn’t interested. She definitely couldn’t hold a candle to Rosalie even on Rosalie’s worst day.

In another life, I may have fucked Josie before maybe fucking her friend, but this wasn’t that life. In this life, I had a woman I’d die for waiting for me to save her… from myself.

Fuck. What a damn mess.

The elevator arrived, and I got inside. Much to my annoyance, Josie followed me in.

The doors closed, locking me inside alone with her.

I looked at my watch.

“You look nice in your regular clothes,” she murmured, stepping closer to me.

“Thanks,” I muttered, checking my watch again.

“I-I’d really like to get to know you outside of work,” she said softly. “Maybe we can text or something.”

Fuck.

Josie was a nice girl. I appreciated her perseverance, but she’d never followed me into a damn elevator before.

“Maybe,” I muttered, just needing to get the hell back to Rosalie.

Josie’s eyes lit up. “OK. Um, great. I’ll text you when I get out.”

I was distracted as all hell as I went through my head on what I remembered about broken bones and sprains. There was no way I could give Rosalie crutches. She’d beat me with them. But how the hell was I supposed to leave her alone if she couldn’t walk?

Damnit.

This was going to be a real problem.

“Perfect,” I said, shaking my head.

The elevator dinged at the lobby, and I stepped out.

“Talk to you later!” Josie called out.

I waved her off and went outside and straight to the bag I’d dropped. I grabbed it, took it to my car, got in, and raced back to Rosalie.

I got back to the old house, rushed inside, and went straight to her.

She was where I’d left her, only she was crying on the bed.

I dropped the bag and went to her.

“Hey,” I said softly. “I’m back.”

“It hurts,” she whimpered. “Please. I need to see a doctor.”

“I am a doctor,” I murmured, going to her foot.

She cried out as I carefully examined it.

“It’s a bad sprain,” I said. “I have my doubts it’s broken.”