Page 15 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

“I have to pee,” CeCe announced, looking nervous. “I can go before my bath, but I’m scared. Can someone come with me?”

Josie felt it then. The crash. It slammed into her like a million daggers slicing through her flesh. Livy . Livy would normally take her little sister to the bathroom in this situation. The brave little mama would always care for everyone if they needed help.

Two doors down, there was a pretty room with a pink canopy bed Miranda had found in a furniture store over in Pensacola.

There was a giant pink inflatable chair and a desk that she and Miranda had spent a whole day putting together because the instructions were crap.

They hadn’t minded, though. Livy would need a place to study, and they had worked until nightfall, getting it right.

She had been so excited about her new school and excited that Samuel would be with her. The two always got along so well—a rare thing for their boy.

There was a closet full of clothes on the way.

Going through that Deliah’s catalog had been so much fun.

The three of them had giggled and circled almost every outfit option available.

Once they finished with that, they broke out the Macy’s catalog to find more clothes and spent nearly a whole night placing orders.

Josie thought of the smaller sheet on the ballroom floor, and a cold sweat seized her. Sweet, perfect Livy was gone. Devon was gone. Laura Jean… gone.

And nothing would ever be the same.

The room around her spun, the faces of the children blurring. With a shake of her head, she stumbled off to the side, pulling Miranda with her .

“Toby and Samuel can’t be left alone together, or someone will get hurt,” Josie said in a hushed voice. “We need help, and I know where to get it.”

Miranda’s eyes searched hers, seeking an answer. When it came finally, her lips parted in shock. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Josie.”

“She’s going to find out one way or another, and it’s best if she hears it from one of us.”

Not giving Miranda a chance to respond, Josie left, even though she understood that this probably wasn’t the best way to deliver news.

However, their options were limited. Actually, their options were non-existent.

If Miranda wanted to keep this quiet, getting the help of someone who knew how to handle situations like this was their best chance.

Hurrying down the hall, Josie reached the back stairs in seconds, but almost lost her nerve when crossing the foyer. The marble floors were still wet from when they arrived, with big and small footprints tracking their way down the middle.

She hesitated before opening the front door. Hand on the knob, she told herself she could do this.

She could do this.

Couldn’t she?

Miranda always said she was the brave one.

It was bullshit. She might be opinionated and spoke her mind plainly, but in truth, she was a coward.

She was scared all the time and of so many things.

She was scared that the cancer would come back.

She was scared that one day Samuel might look at them with disgust. She was scared that Miranda would push her away because “it was for the best” or because she couldn’t take the pressure of hiding what they were to each other.

And in the middle of this horrific, nightmarish night, Josie was scared that what she was about to do was a grave mistake. There would be tears and screaming, but they needed help with the kids.

Taking the front stone steps two at a time, she hit the button at the end of the drive, allowing the security gates to swing open.

She didn’t need to get her car. Not when heading right next door.

This request was best made in person, even though they might actually call the cops on her.

They might also not believe her or be so furious that she had the nerve to ask for help. Especially once knowing the truth .

Mumbling to herself, she kept her head down as she walked the slick sidewalk. There were a few cars out on the road. Parkland Grounds sat directly off Main Street in Hollingsdale. It was a beautiful sight, and people would often make a special trip out to see how it looked lit up at night.

But right around the corner from Parkland Grounds was a smaller manor home, built not long after the main home came into existence. The property was always passed down to the firstborn Fairweather son, generation after generation, as he prepared to take over the business.

Yet, in this latest generation, the firstborn son didn’t take over, and no longer lived here.

Only his wife remained.

The porch light was on, with gnats and moths flittering around in a fevered dance.

Up the steps and spread around the enormous front yard, a kaleidoscope of colorful blooms greeted her, along with small whimsical touches the occupant had set up as she attempted to make it her own now that there was no Fairweather to suppress her.

Helen Fairweather would absolutely die if she saw it today.

Standing at the front door, Josie stared at the doorbell, wondering if she should knock instead.

She chose to ring it and held her breath, aiming her finger at the button, the entire thing happening in slow motion until she connected with it.

The chiming toll could be heard all the way outside, a tinkling ring to signal the start of a moment that would stay with them for a lifetime.

He was the one to come to the door.

Aiden.

Josie hadn’t formally met him yet, only spying him once or twice through a pair of binoculars she and Miranda kept on the balcony.

Whenever they caught a glimpse of the pair together, they would whisper how handsome he was and say things like good for Viv, or I hope Viv is having the time of her life .

God knew she deserved a handsome, caring man after putting up with Charlie’s crap for all these years.

They had heard from Ben that Viv met him at a fundraiser and that he was involved with something medical.

Wearing nothing but sweatpants, Aiden stared at her in confusion. “Can I help you? ”

He was even more gorgeous in person, with dark hair and light eyes. Usually, she wouldn’t mind being greeted by a chiseled chest and pretty face, but it didn’t even register tonight.

“I’m Josie.”

An eyebrow went up. He obviously recognized the name.

“Is something wrong?”

The trembling that started on the way over deepened, striking her very bones to where she thought he surely must be able to hear them rattling. “Yes.”

“What’s happening?” Vivian’s panicked voice approached, and she was out the door and standing in front of her before Josie could figure out what to say. “Is it Miranda? Is she okay?”

“Miranda’s okay.”

Josie swayed on her feet. What did she say to this woman? How much did she know?

“I need help.”

Vivian cradled Josie’s face, and it was then she realized she really was sweating. A whoosh of cold air came from the open front door, swirling around them in the sticky July heat. “Josie, everything is going to be okay. Is Samuel hurt? Are you?”

How could Charlie have ever strayed from this woman? She was stunning on all levels. Beautiful, for sure, but Viv was a decent human. She had kept their secret. They never told her outright, but she had to have known and never openly judged or said a bad word about it, as far as Josie knew.

“Is it Samuel?” Vivian tried again. “Josie, you’re scaring me.”

A light Texas drawl clung to her words, the sweet, hypnotic sound drawing Josie out of her stupor. “Can I come in?” She cringed over having the audacity to invite herself into someone’s home in the middle of the night. “We need to talk, but I don’t have much time.”

“Oh, of course!” Viv acted as if it were all her fault for not inviting her inside in the first place. “Forgive me.”

Aiden and Viv ushered her into the house, but Josie couldn’t go far, standing frozen in the doorway of the dark manor.

The floors were black and white checkerboard, while the rest of the home’s décor was new, with all the latest styles and perfectly set to Viv's standards.

The woman had impeccable taste and used it to make everything beautiful, including herself.

“Let’s talk in the living room.” Draped in a silky blue nightgown, the matching robe flowed around Vivian as she walked. “Aiden, can you turn on a lamp or something?”

“No,” Josie whispered, not wanting any lights on. She didn’t think she would be able to handle their shocked faces. “I can’t stay. I can’t leave Miranda alone with them.”

Even in the dark, she could feel Aiden’s eyes assessing her state. “I think you need to sit down.”

“I’m fine.” Giving Vivian her attention, Josie decided to deliver the first blow. “Simone Howard’s husband was shot tonight. He’s dead.”

Vivian blinked a few times. “What?”

“Selah is over at Parkland Grounds.”

“What?” Vivian’s hand flew to her throat. “What are you saying? How could—”

“Simone’s other son was also shot. I don’t know if you’re aware, but Simone and Devon have two other children. Twins.” A ghost of a smile tugged at Josie’s lips as she thought of Abe’s adorable face. “Abe is in surgery now.”

“Oh my God,” Vivian whispered. “Who would do such a thing?”

There was no going back. It was like being stuck on the tracks with a train barreling toward her. Ready or not, Josie prepared herself to change this woman’s life forever.

“Laura Jean Eddins was shot and killed.” Images flashed in her mind. A heap on the ballroom floor. The bloody sheet. Ben in agony as he rocked next to it. She shut her eyes, as if she could block them. “Ben is at the morgue identifying her body as we speak.”