Page 123 of Until Joy

“What—” I reached for my neck, my fingers coming away with a small drop of blood. “What did you do?”

“I'm sorry, Joy. I really am. But you left me no choice.”

The parking garage began to tilt around me. My legs felt like they were made of rubber, and I had to grab the car's bumper to keep from falling.

“You,” I whispered, the pieces finally clicking into place. “You're the one who's been⁠—”

“I tried to be patient,” Glenda said, her voice eerily calm. “I tried to give you time to see that we belong together. But you kept choosing him. Even after everything I did to show you how wrong he was for you.”

My vision blurred at the edges. Whatever she'd injected me with was working fast, making my thoughts feel thick and sluggish.

“The flowers. The texts. The—” I tried to take a step back, but my coordination was shot. “You tried to kill Graham.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It was a fifty-fifty chance. But he lived, so he has nothing to complain about.” Glenda's hands were gentle as she caught my arm, steadying me as my knees buckled. “Cutting the brake lines was just supposed to delay him, make him late so I could talk to you. Help you see reason. Him ending up hurt or dead…” She shrugged her shoulders. “That was just going to play out according to fate.”

“You're insane,” I slurred.

“I'm in love. We’re in love. You just don’t realize it yet.” Her voice was filled with conviction. “Soon, you'll understand. Once we're away from all these people who are confusing you, you'll see that we're meant to be together.”

The world tilted sideways as she guided me toward the open trunk. I tried to fight, tried to scream, but my body wouldn't obey. The drug had stolen my strength, my coordination, my voice.

“Sleep now,” Glenda whispered as she pushed me into the trunk. “When you wake up, everything will be different. Everything will be perfect.”

The trunk lid slammed shut, plunging me into darkness.

Chapter 31

The familiar sound of Wes's motorcycle boots echoing down the hospital corridor pulled me from the medication-induced haze I'd been drifting in and out of as I waited for Joy to come back with food. July's voice mixed with his as they approached my room, and I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lighting.

“There he is.” Wes pushed through the doorway first, July right behind him. “Looking like he went ten rounds with a freight train and lost.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.” I shifted against the pillows, wincing as the movement sent fire through my ribs. “Where's Joy? She went to find me some decent food.”

July immediately switched into her professional veterinarian voice, the same tone she used when explaining why someone's dog couldn't have table scraps. “Graham, you need to eat only what they give you. Your body is still recovering.”

“Bullshit. It’s been two days. I'm fine.”

“You have three broken ribs and a severe concussion. You're lucky you didn’t have to have surgery.” July pulled out her phone, probably to text Joy about my medical restrictions. “The last thing your body needs is to process heavy food when it's trying to heal.”

Wes wandered closer to the small table beside my bed, his eyebrows rising as he took in the massive bouquet of white lilies and pink roses. His gaze shifted to the teddy bear wearing a “Get Well Soon” t-shirt, and a grin spread across his face.

“Well, I'll be damned. Graham Wallace has a pink teddy bear.” He picked up the stuffed animal, examining it like it might explode. “Didn't know you were into stuffed animals, brother.”

“Huh. First I’m seeing it.” I frowned at the bear.

Wes spotted the small card tucked into the flowers and plucked it out. His expression shifted as he read. “It's from Glenda.”

“Who the hell is Glenda?”

“Joy's friend from the clinic,” July said slowly. “The one who adopted the kitten. But this is weird. Why would she send you flowers?”

“Maybe she's just being nice,” I suggested, though something about the whole thing felt off. “Joy mentioned she was going through a breakup.”

“Maybe she has a thing for you.” Wes waggled his eyebrows.

July laughed. “No way, she has a thing for Joy.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”