Without Compromise (17 page)

              “The Bible says we can’t be yoked to unbelievers.”

              “Yoked?”

              “Connected,” she scowled at him. “You know what it means, Tag.”

              He wasn’t sure he did.

              “I’m not going to pressure you to have sex, Josie. I know how important it is for you to wait until marriage.”

              She pulled a tissue from the box, “It’s not just that, Tag. The longer I know you, the more I . . .”

              She started crying, and Tag couldn’t understand anything else she said.

              “Josie,” he scooted up onto her bed and pulled her into his arms, “I’m so sorry. I love you, and I know that isn’t enough.”

              She cried harder, holding on to the front of his shirt.

              “I wish it was enough, Josie, but you’re right.”

              He pressed his face into her hair, knowing this was the last chance he was going to get to hold her. Tag inhaled deeply, trying to memorize the scent of her and the feel of her in his arms.

              Finally, he pulled her face back from his chest, holding it between his palms, “You get better soon, Josie, okay?”

              She nodded.

              Tag couldn’t resist. He knew he was making this harder for both of them, but he didn’t have the strength to keep himself from leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers.

              “I love you, Josie Drake.”

              He stood up and left quickly, keeping his head down to avoid the looks of pity that would surely come from seeing a grown man crying as he hurried from the hospital.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Josie picked up the pillow and pressed it against her face to keep her scream from being heard throughout the ward. After releasing it, she turned her face to her bed and sobbed, hoping nobody would come to visit right then.

              She knew it was the right thing to do. She had expected Tag to argue more, but she was glad he hadn’t. Her pride wasn’t injured because he hadn’t fought for her. In fact, she loved him more for recognizing that she needed him to leave.

              An hour later, Josie had cleaned herself up a bit and was presentable when her parents arrived.

              “Tag’s been here?” her mother found her place at the end of the bed.

              Josie nodded, unsurprised that her mother had picked up on her red eyes and solemn expression.

              Sol sat down, “And you broke up with him.”

              Doris looked at her husband, “There was no breaking up to do. They weren’t dating.”

              Sol pointed his nose in the air just slightly, “If you say so.”

              “I think he’s going to try to make himself scarce,” Josie spoke on a soft sob.

              If she had known just how scarce Tag was going to make himself, she might have thought through her plan a little more.

              “Did I tell you I have a new neighbor?” Molly called her sister a couple weeks after Josie returned home from the hospital.

              Josie was working on the exercises her therapist had given her, “Oh? Who moved out?”

              Molly was silent so long that the answer became obvious.

              “When did he move, Molly?”

              “Right away,” the older sister sounded sympathetic. “Within days of your surgery.”

              “That was,” Josie swallowed to keep her tears at bay, “it was actually very nice of him.”

              Molly’s sniff of disbelief could be heard through the phone lines.

              “It was, “Josie defended him. “He knew how hard it was for me to see him.”

              “You don’t think it was just because he was afraid for himself?”

              “Maybe,” Josie conceded that much.

              “You think he’s gone for good?”

              “He changed his cell number,” Josie leaned over to touch her toes.

              “You called him?”

              “No. He texted me and told me he was going to do that and take my number off his phone, but if I needed anything I should call Harry.”

              “Josie, I’m so sorry.”

              “Me too.”

              It didn’t take long for Josie to heal from the accident. By February, she was ready to start shooting for the show. The producers had been a little nervous when they heard about her injury, but they had actually offered to put off her scenes for an extra week. It was an offer she found unnecessary, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

              Ken had made good on his word to look into the situation with Josie’s accident. Contrary to his better judgment, he had not filed any kind of legal claim against the man who had goofed during the incident. However, he did his best to ensure the man would not be working the rigging in any stunts again.

              Josie was into her second month of filming when she got a call from Ken.

              “How’s the job going?”

              “I love it,” she wiped the sweat from her face as she walked toward wardrobe. “It’s something new every time, but I’m getting to know people here.”

              “That’s great. It’s been nice weather for shooting.”

              Something was wrong. She wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his voice or if it was the fact that Ken was making small talk, and he never made small talk.

              “Ken,” Josie didn’t have time to guess, “what’s up?”

              “It could be nothing,” he began, “but I didn’t want you to go through the day without hearing.”

              She stopped moving, “Without hearing what?”

              He was silent, but Josie’s phone was not. It beeped, indicating an incoming call. It was Molly. Josie decided to call her back.

              “Ken,” she snapped, “if you have something to say, just say it.”

              He started to speak, but a text alert beeped out most of his words.

              “Hold on, Ken,” she looked down at the screen and saw the message was from Molly.

              She opened it without a thought.

             
Turn on news. I’m heading your way. Will be there in ten minutes.

              “Ken,” Josie’s heart began to race as she hurried toward the director’s office, “what happened?”

              “There was apparently a police raid downtown. Two SWAT officers were shot. One was killed, and the other is in critical condition.”

              Josie stood outside the office, “What makes you think it’s Tag’s team?”

              “I don’t know that it is,” Ken admitted, “but one of the officers’ names was Jacobson, and the picture they flashed looked like the guy I met in your hospital room.”

              Josie hung up as she rapped on the director’s door. When he answered, she opened the door and stepped just inside the door.

              “Lem,” she tried not to get emotional, “do you need me any more tonight?”

              “No,” he peered at her. “Is something wrong?”

              “A friend of mine is,” she blinked, “he’s a cop. He was part of a raid.”

              Lem stood up, “Not the one downtown?”

              She nodded.

              He picked up his phone, “I’ll have Perry drive you.”

              She waved him off, “My sister’s on the way. I’ll just go drop off this stuff,” she pulled the hat from her head.

              “Never mind the clothes, Josie. Get to the hospital.”

              She touched the belt, “I’ve got to take this off anyway.”

              Lem held out his hand, “I’ll take the accessories, Josie. Just go.”

              She looked down at her attire.

              “Here,” he handed her his blue windbreaker, “this will cover it up. Besides, it’s chilly out there – still March in New York, you know.”

              “Thanks, Lem,” she left and ran to meet her sister at the front gate.

              “I don’t know how we’re going to get you in there,” Molly said as she pushed all the traffic laws between the studio and the hospital. “They’re keeping people out because of the press.”

              Josie noticed the direction they were going, “Downtown hospital?”

              Molly nodded, “They were just a couple blocks from there.”

              “What do you know, Mol? Ken just said that Harry was involved. I didn’t hear if Harry was the injured one or. . . Did you hear the name of the other officer?”

              Molly shook her head, “I’m sorry; that’s all I know too. If it makes you feel better, I think Harry was the one who’s in critical condition.”

              Josie doubled over in pain. If Tag’s partner was not dead, what did that mean for Tag? She forced herself to breathe as she kept her head between her knees.

              “I’m sorry,” Molly put a hand on Josie’s back. “I guess that wasn’t helpful. I was just thinking that you were close to Harry.”

              Josie jumped from the car as Molly was pulling up to the ER.

              “Call me if you need me,” Molly called after her.

              Josie raised a hand in acknowledgement but didn’t look behind her.

              She approached the nurse at the desk.

              “I need,” she didn’t know how to proceed, “I have to see someone.”

              The nurse’s patient expression told Josie she had been doing this a while, “Who do you need to see?”

              Josie forced herself to take deep breaths. She realized she was a little warm, so she began to take off the large jacket. Looking down at her attire, she quickly changed her mind.

              “You’re here to see the officers who were injured,” the nurse began moving immediately toward the door, “I’m so sorry about what happened.”

              Josie realized the mistake that had been made. She wanted more information on Tag and the rest of the team, but she did not want to get herself or the nurse in trouble.

              “Excuse me,” she tried to catch up to the fast-walking woman, “I think you misunderstood.”

              The nurse spun around, “You aren’t here to see the other officers.”

              Josie nodded, “I am, but you saw my,” she was interrupted.

              “They’re down this hall,” she pointed, “and to the right. You’ll see them in the waiting room.”

              “You don’t understand,” Josie began again, determined to be more assertive, “I’m here to see them, but I’m not a cop.”

              The nurse’s eyebrows shot up, “You’re not?”

              “No,” Josie indicated her fake uniform. “This is from wardrobe.”

              Storm clouds appeared over the nurse, “That’s disgusting. You reporters will do anything for a story.”

              It was Josie’s turn to be surprised, “I’m not a reporter either. I’m a stunt double.”

              The nurse folded her arms over her chest, “I think you’d better leave.”

              “Josie?” a voice sounded from behind the nurse.

              The nurse turned as Josie looked over her shoulder.

              “Jeremy,” she breathed and hurried to his side, “I heard about the shooting.”

              Granger pulled her in for a quick hug, “Thanks so much for coming down, Josie. I know Tag would appreciate it.”

              “Would?” she felt her knees going out from under her, but she managed to stand by gripping the front of Jeremy’s vest.

              “You know this woman got in by impersonating an officer,” the nurse was not so friendly now.

              Jeremy looked down at her clothes, “You filming something?”

              Josie nodded, “I didn’t mean to – she just assumed, and I couldn’t. . .”

              Jeremy held tight to her, “Never mind, Josie.”

              He looked at the nurse, “Thanks for bringing her back here.”

              The nurse’s expression softened, “Okay then.”

              Jeremy began to lead her back to the waiting area, but she planted her feet and stopped him, “I need to know, Jeremy.”

              He frowned down at her.

              “Tag?”

              His expression remained confused.

              “You said Tag would have appreciated me coming,” she paused, “Does that mean. . .?”

              Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up, “No, Josie. It’s not Tag. It’s Harry. . .or Harry’s the one in critical condition.”

              “Then who was it that you lost?”

              Jeremy grimaced and looked away, “A guy from a different team – Jason Roberts. I hardly know – knew – him, but he seemed like a good guy. He was young – had a family.”

              Josie couldn’t stop the rush of tears.

              “And Harry?” she allowed Jeremy to lead her further down the hall.

              “It’s bad,” he whispered, pointing to another man, huddled against the wall, sitting on the floor outside a recovery room.

              “How long has he been there?” she held onto Jeremy’s arm when he would have walked away.

              “He came in the ambulance with Jacobson. That was about noon. I didn’t get here until almost two, and he was sitting there like that when I arrived.”

              Jeremy glanced at the clock, “Three, four hours, I guess.”

              Josie opened her phone to text Molly to bring her some clothes and her purse from the set. Then she walked down the hall. She didn’t speak; she just sat down next to Tag and leaned against the wall. About a minute after she sat down, he looked at her.

              “Hi,” his voice sounded raw, but Josie assumed that was from attempting to hold back the tears. His eyes were not red from crying, but she could read the fear in them.

              Josie reached for his hand and took it in her own, “Hi.”

              Neither spoke again for the next hour. Molly sent her clothes by way of a nurse. Josie thanked the woman but didn’t get up to change. She leaned her head against Tag’s shoulder and curled her feet under herself.

              “How’d you know?” Tag rested a cheek on Josie’s head.

              “Ken called, then Molly. They thought I’d want to be here.”