He’d tear them into shreds and do so gladly because they deserved it.
They’d made Jamie into the monster he was with their lack of care, and with their own hideous personalities. They’d formed him into what he was. And Josh wasn’t taking away the man’s nature. He knew parents could only take so much of the blame, but for Janice to have known and to have enabled her son?
That was low.
Really fucking low.
“Why did you warn them about the Sanderson-Montecor deal?”
The question was softly uttered, but there wasn’t accusation buried within the words. No, just curiosity. If anything, her tone revealed how swiftly she’d calmed down, and after what had just happened—Samantha had just been fucking spat at—she should still be raging. That she wasn’t told Josh exactly what Samantha was accustomed to dealing with.
Sickeningly, she was used to abuse. Accustomed to being treated that way.
For a second, Josh felt his world shake because tears pricked at his eyes.
How could he have been so wrong about everything?
“That’s how I work,” he said, hating how husky his tone was. “I give a first warning and if they don’t heed that warning, it’s their mistake.” Curious as to how she’d respond to that, he peered up at her. Seeing she was frowning, he asked, “That surprises you?”
“It doesn’t fit with what I’ve always thought about you.”
His nostrils flared—that surprisingly hurt.
Not even, fuck hurt. It cut. To the bone.
His voice grew more gravely, “You’ve never had that good a view of me because of how I’ve treated you. I can’t blame you. I’ve treated you like shit too.”
She winced, but brightened up a little as she said, “You’re more than making up for it now. I-I don’t really know what I expected when I came to you, Josh. Whatever it was, it isn’t this.”
He nodded. “It’s the least I can do.” A shuddery breath escaped him. “I can’t make up for what happened to you and Erin, Samantha. I can’t make up for what he did…” At that moment, Josh couldn’t even name Jamie. “And I sure as hell can’t make up for the way I’ve spoken to you all these years, but I can make the future brighter.”
“I know, and you are. Thank you. I never thought you’d have my back like this and it looks like I’ll need it.”
“I don’t think you will. Janice is delusional. I don’t even know what she thought she was doing back there.” He shook his head, still bewildered by her reactions—she’d been like a crazy person. “I can’t believe she spat at you. Who even does that?”
She plucked at her blouse. “This was my favorite blouse too. I’ll never be able to wear it without thinking of what just happened.” Samantha didn’t sound angry, more like resigned and glum.
Her reactions once again reiterated how accustomed she was to being abused. It also told him that Jamie truly had been speaking bullshit about Samantha’s so-called expensive tastes. That shirt was nice but it wasn’t expensive. The gauzy cream linen skimmed over her curves and cupped her breasts in a way that spoke of casual elegance, but he’d been around enough women to know good clothes and this was definitely something you’d find in a nearby mall and not a designer studio.
Jamie had told him Samantha nearly broke them every damn month with her need for new clothes and new jewels. Yet, here she was, admitting that that was her favorite blouse…
“I’ll buy you another.”
She scowled at him, for the first time looking peeved. “You don’t have to do that.”
No, he guessed not but he wanted to make this better and didn’t have a clue how to go about doing that.
Clearing his throat, he murmured, “No. But the offer’s there if you want.”
She blinked at him, and in her eyes, there was such a strange light that he had to shutter his gaze and peer down at the floor to avoid it. That look stirred something in him, something he didn’t want to admit to.
Not yet, at any rate.
“Do you think Frank will listen?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends if Janice tells him at all.”
“She’s spiteful enough not to, that’s for damn sure. Even if she’s the one who’ll suffer in the end,” Samantha agreed.