crave | 16+

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JOSIE

I KNOCK ON THE door three times, before I push it open, seeing my mother in a chair, my father in the hospital bed, dressed in a sick people's gown and Maddox asleep in another chair next to mom.

"Josie?" my mom asks, shocked, and I send her a smile, feeling my eyes brim with tears. "When did you arrive?" she asks, getting up from her chair, looking at my dad, unsure of whether to hug me or tell me to get out of her face. I can read her face like an open book.

"I just landed," I say before turning to my dad. "Hi, dad." He disregards me, and mumbles something under his breath chewing on nothing.

Tears spike in my eyes. My father is a traditional man, he always has been. He didn't like it when I didn't want to stay in Alabama and help out with their farm. He didn't like that I had ambitions of my own, and for my "betrayal" he didn't speak to me ever since I moved to New York city. 

"I don't want to see you, Josephine. You did a good job running off all those years ago, I suggest you do it again," my dad says, and I gulp nodding my head, looking at the clock that's set on the wall. God, it's already so late. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Maddox scoffs, awake now, looking up at our mother who hasn't said a word. "She just flew five hours, unannounced for you, and now you're telling her you don't want to see her? I don't think you have much of a choice, Dad."

"Maddox, it's okay I'll leave," I say my chin wobbling. 

"I ain't ask her to come here!" my dad yells, his southern accent coming on thick. "She stopped being my daughter the second she left us! Boy, don't you come up in my face with your goddamn posh accent!" 

"No, I did! She has the right to see you, and you as her father should be able to let her come visit you on your deathbed!" my brother yells, trying his best to defend me. 

My father thins his lips before turning his face to me. "She no longer is my daughter," he says to Maddox while looking at me. My mouth falls open a bit and my eyes snap toward my mother. When our eyes meet, she averts her gaze to the floor. I nod my head in understanding and turn around leaving the same way I came in. 

Tears fall down my eyes as I make my way out of this hospital. I have no idea what to do from now; I'd half expected my mom to let me sleep here just for a few days, but I guess that wasn't the case. I push the hospital doors open letting the cold winter air strike my face. When I open my eyes again, I see Elijah leaning over a Range Rover, his eyes softer than silk. 

He walks up to me, and I stay frozen in place. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask him, drying my tears off my face with the heels of my palms. 

He shrugs. "Father's can suck. I just wanted to be here in case everything went to south," he says in a voice that wraps around me and gives me the comfort dear ol, Daddy stopped giving me the second I told him I wanted to be more than a big breeder. More tears spill down my face unannounced, which makes Elijah wrap his arms around me, planting his face in my hair. 

"They don't deserve you," he says, and I smile against him, trying my best not to break down in his arms right now. 

When he pulls back, he looks down at me with a soft expression trailing the road where my tears dried on my face, before walking me toward his car. "Where's a good place to get food here?" he asks, and I smile, knowing exactly where to take him. 

***

"Holy hell," Elijah mutters while he reads the menu card. "I haven't seen food like this in New York, ever," he speaks and I can't help but swing my feet back and forth under the table like a giddy child, excited for him to taste all the things I grew up eating.

The waiter comes up to us, and I look up feeling my breath stuck in my throat.

"Josie?" I hear him say, and I chuckle looking everywhere but at Elijah.

"Hi Chris," I smile getting up from the bench giving him a hug. Chris lifts me up in the air, planting his hands on my ass. I feel my heart leap out of my chest, as I wiggle myself, signalling for him to put me down. When I look at Elijah I see nothing but pure hatred in his eyes. If looks could kill, Chris would be screaming for help on the floor right now.

"God, babe you still look hot as ever," Chris compliments and I let an awkward laugh out, thanking him. "How long are you staying in town for?" he asks, and I answer,

I— I uh, I don't know actually I guess I—"

"We were actually leaving," Elijah pipes in getting up from his booth. He buttons his suit jacket up, placing a $10 bill on the table, before placing his hand on the small of my back, leading us out of the diner. 

It's silent in the car. Too silent. But as long as he doesn't say anything dumb I won't eith—
"Fucking Chris," he mutters under his breath, taking a right turn to the roadway. I detect his jet waiting there for us. 

"Sorry? I didn't catch that," I tell him. He hurriedly parks the car, and snaps his head toward me, a fire behind them. He opens his mouth and I wait patiently for him to spit literal fire at me, but instead he doesn't. He says nothing. He closes his mouth, turns the car off and leaves me be in the car as he walks toward his plane. I sigh and follow him. 

I nod at the pilot whose standing outside waiting for us with a smile. When I make it inside the plane, my other bosses are nowhere to be seen. I frown looking at Elijah. There's a book in his lap. I sit before him watching him with wary eyes. I look down at the book and see the name Jane Austen. I almost faint. 

"You're reading Pride and Prejudice." It's more of a statement than a question. 

He looks up at me. "Yes, I am. Good observation skills." 

"I didn't know you—"

"Read?" he cuts off. My cheeks go red. Of course I knew he could read, I just didn't know he...read. Yes, they're two completely different things. 

Before I get to respond, telling him that wasn't what I meant at all, he reverts his gaze back to his book, not paying me any mind. I sit dwelling a bit on him. He's like an enigma. The middle child, yet the owner of a world-wide firm. He's so cold, and sometimes he has his moments where he completely baffles me. Then, just when I think I have him figured out, he goes back to being his usual cold, emotionless Elijah. 

As if he feels me looking at him, he brings his eyes up to meet mine and I quickly look out of my window again. 

. . .
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