Knox (A Merrick Brothers Novel)

by Prescott Lane

“Not him!” she screams. “Don’t you get it? His life. He brought this down on us, just like he brought those pictures down on you. He may not have taken her, but he’s responsible!”

  The detective intervenes and directs his voice to Everly and Timothy. “Your daughter is being taken to the hospital. Just routine. And she’ll need to be questioned. One of our officers will take you to her.”

  They nod, heading toward the door. “Everly?” I say softly.

  Everly turns around. “As long as you’re with him, I don’t want you anywhere near my family.”

  My breath catches like someone just sucker punched me. Knox’s arms go around my waist, like he expects me to fall.

  “She didn’t mean it,” he whispers. “She’s been through hell. Give her time.”

  *

  I can’t get the image out of my mind—sweet little Gracie all alone at Knox’s parents’ graves. It sends shivers through my body. We haven’t been able to see her. She went straight to the hospital. She was only gone for a little over an hour, and we were told there’s not a scratch on her. Just some smeared chocolate on her cheek. Apparently, her abductor brought chocolate cupcakes. I’ll never be able to eat chocolate or cupcakes again. The detectives told us she wasn’t even scared, that she was her usual happy, smiling self.

  Knox and I are still at The Tune Up. The police have questioned us. Heath is here now, too. I’m having a hard time focusing on anything being said, Everly’s words ringing in my ears. She’s never going to forgive me for bringing Knox back into her life if Gracie’s abduction has anything to do with him. And it clearly does. It can’t be a coincidence that she was left at his parents’ graves.

  Here come the goosebumps again. What kind of sick, fucked up person leaves a little girl alone in a graveyard? What kind of message are they intending to send?

  I have no idea what time it is. Is it late at night or early in the morning? I can’t tell. At this point, my leaked photos seem like years ago, like a distant memory. They’re not, of course, but kidnapping trumps everything. And now the world seems even heavier, like gravity is working overtime, holding us down, preventing us from moving.

  It’s funny how tiring worry is. Worry makes you more tired than running a marathon ever could. The mind running is way more exhausting than your feet moving, or most anything you can put your body through physically. Not that I’m going to take up running as a hobby or anything.

  “Can you tell us anything about what happened?” Knox asks. “Anything about the person or . . .”

  “I’m more interested in what you can tell me,” the detective says.

  The detective takes out an evidence bag, sliding it across the table to Knox and me. Heath is looking over our shoulder. He tried to insist Knox have a lawyer present, but Knox didn’t want or need one. We have nothing to hide, and that would only waste time.

  “Gracie’s abductor asked Gracie to give this to you,” the detective says.

  The typewritten note isn’t signed. It’s only one question.

  Knox, did you really think a few security guards could keep me away?

  “Fuck!” Knox whispers, looking over at me. “Everly was right.”

  “What do you know about this?” the detective asks.

  Heath goes into action, explaining that Knox has an active stalker, filling the detective in on all that’s happened, suggesting that Gracie’s abductor and Knox’s stalker are one in the same. Heath wraps up by saying, “Don’t bother testing for prints or DNA on the letter. You won’t find any.”

  “This person targeted Gracie because of me,” Knox whispers.

  “Appears so,” the detective says. “As the note says, you have security. You’re harder to get to.”

  “Me, too,” I say. “I now have security, too.”

  “So they went after someone else close to you,” the detective says, “someone innocent, easy to get to. Any idea why Gracie was left at your parents’ graves?”

  Knox shakes his head. “I have no idea. I guess it’s just part of their game, trying to rattle me.”

  “Did Gracie give a description of the person?” I ask.

  “I really can’t comment on an active case, but we’ve found that someone as young as Gracie isn’t always a reliable witness. They tend to be easily confused, influenced.”

  “Okay for them to fly back to California?” Heath asks. “Movie premiere in a few days.”

  “Fine,” the detective says, getting to his feet. “We are continuing to investigate and actively look for this person, and we will follow up with you all if we need to.”

  With that, the detective and a few other officers exit the shop. Heath heads toward the door as well, leaving Knox and I alone. We stay seated together, our hearts still pounding, the weight of this so heavy we can’t seem to get up. The door closes behind him, and we sit in silence for a few moments. I don’t know if there’s press waiting outside. I guess it doesn’t matter. Gracie being taken makes those pictures of me seem like amateur hour.

  Knox’s hands slide to mine. “We should leave for California immediately. This person is still around. We need to get you out of harm’s way.”

  I slide my hand away, and my chest starts to rise and fall quickly. My heart knows what it has to do before my head can even compute it. And my heart knows the pain that’s coming, but my head won’t hear of it. “I’m not going.”

  “Mae,” he says, reaching for me again, but I get up out of my chair, moving away from him.

  I can’t let him touch me. His touch weakens me.

  Taking a deep breath, I muster enough strength to lie. “I need to be here for Everly.”

  *

  Knox stands at the front door of my cottage. A car waits out front to take him to the airport. He gathered his stuff from Gigi’s house and mine, slept a few hours, and now is heading back to California.

  Alone.

  I look out my window, the sun shining on a new day. But the damage of the past few days is evident. I see my beautiful wildflowers have taken as big a beating as I have, now trampled to the ground by spying paparazzi. Some of them are dead, but others are fighting to stand tall. I know how they feel. The struggle is real.

  The police are still looking for Gracie’s abductor, trying to piece everything together. I don’t know why things are taking so long. Haven’s Point isn’t a big place, and Colorado isn’t a big state. The person couldn’t get far. Why haven’t they found this crazy person already? For that matter, why hasn’t anyone found out who hacked Knox’s phone? If it’s the same person, then hurry up and figure shit out!

  Holding his duffle bag, Knox turns back to me. His blue eyes beckon me. Rushing to him, I hug him, wrapping my arms around him, feeling his hard muscles underneath my fingers, memorizing the way I feel in his arms. I know he’s worried about leaving me behind, even with security. But he’s worried about the wrong thing. He’ll find out soon enough.

  As his lips lightly land on mine, I slip a cassette in the side pocket of his duffle bag.

  *

  Cassette

  Mae to Knox

  Age Twenty-Six

  Knox,

  It’s been two decades since we met. Twenty years. You’ve been in my life more than half the years I’ve been alive. I don’t have many memories before you. My memories after you . . .

  After you?

  There will never be an after you. There is only you.

  But I can’t do this. It’s one thing for me to be followed around and harassed. It’s quite another to have my friends and family hurt.

  You tried to warn me. I should’ve listened. Then neither of us would be hurting right now. I wouldn’t be hurting you.

  I hope one day you can forgive me. I hope you can try to understand.

  I can’t.

  I don’t know how else to say it. I just can’t.

  I’m sorry, Knox.

  I don’t want things to end badly between us like last time. I didn’t want to fight, to argue about this. I want
ed to be brave, try to do this in person, but I just couldn’t.

  I wish I could do this without any tears, but that’s asking far too much. My heart is breaking, Knox. But I can’t have my family hurt. Little Gracie . . . When I think about what could have happened?

  All because of me. Because I love you.

  You told me that being with you has a price. I thought I could do it, but the price is too high. If it were just me, I’d pay it. I’d figure out a way. I think I proved that with the photos, but the people I love are off limits.

  As long as there is danger to them, I just can’t do this.

  Loving you costs too much. I knew that as soon as the detective showed us that letter from Gracie’s kidnapper. I knew in that moment I couldn’t share this life with you.

  In another life . . .

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Knox

  Opening the front door to my own house is depressing as fuck. I’m tired. Pissed. Worried. Heart-broken. Exhausted. I don’t want to face a life without Mae, and walking inside alone feels like that’s exactly what I’m doing. It feels like this is the beginning of my life without her.

  I can’t.

  That’s what her cassette tape said. It didn’t say she didn’t love me anymore. It just said she “can’t.”

  I found the cassette in the side pocket of my duffle bag just seconds after landing. I reached for my sunglasses and felt it. As soon as I did, my heart stopped. I didn’t wait until I got home to listen to it, making the driver stop at a big box electronics store and purchase a cassette player and earbuds. In the car, watching the California landscape pass by, I listened to her goodbye.

  I don’t flick on any lights in my house. There’s natural light coming in through the huge windows, but the house is covered in shade, like a shadow, or ominous dark cloud, is hanging over it.

  Of course, I tried to call Mae. Of course, she didn’t answer. I’m getting the same silent treatment from Gigi, and I don’t dare bother Everly and Timothy with this.

  Gracie.

  Sweet, precious Gracie—hurts my chest to think about what happened. Thank God, she seems totally unaffected by the whole thing. Nowhere in my mind did I fathom something like this happening because of my fame. It’s unusual, to say the least. Most stalker situations involve the celebrity, occasionally the immediate family, but that’s just usually because they are in close proximity. But never the daughter of a friend of an actor’s girlfriend. It’s so far removed that it never occurred to any of us.

  I left security with Mae. The police are watching Gracie’s house, and if they need more protection, I’m happy to provide it. It’s the least I can do. I walk into my bedroom, considering whether I should call the security team and have them put Mae on the phone. That seems a bit drastic, and I doubt Mae would go for that.

  My suit for the premiere hangs in a garment bag in my closet. Sitting down on my bed, I stare at it, knowing in forty-eight hours, I have to be smiling, waving, taking selfies, and giving interviews like my life hasn’t just fallen apart.

  Hanging up next to my suit is Mae’s dress. I haven’t even seen it. She wanted it to be a surprise. Dammit, she should be here. She should be on my arm when I step out of the limousine at the premiere. Instead, we are in the middle of this nightmare.

  Losing her this time feels even worse than it did five years ago. I know how bad this will hurt. There is no moving on from Mae. There is only trying to move forward. Endless days of work, going about the business of life. Endless nights of sleeplessness, the bed now too big.

  This time, I know that no one can fill that space. Last time around, I quickly tried to fill her spot in my bed, but I know now, more than ever, that no other woman can.

  If it weren’t for the premiere, I would still be in Haven’s Point. After it’s over, I’m going back. I have no other choice.

  I pull out my phone. I’m not sure why I even check. She’s not calling or texting, and she won’t respond when I do. My finger runs over her name on the screen. She insisted I change it from Mae Sheridan to something else. I’m Scooby-Doo in her phone, so I toyed with the idea of making her Shaggy. But while Mae is my best friend, she’s so much more than that.

  I look down at her contact name on my phone, changing it to the only thing that makes sense. The only thing she will ever be to me.

  The One.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Mae

  Gigi walks to the curtains of her den and peers through. She does this every few hours or so, periodically checking to see if she needs to grab her bat, I guess—even though Knox’s security team is still posted out front. I came back to her place after Knox left, thinking the company would do us both some good.

  She tilts her head. “Is that? It can’t be!” she says.

  My back stiffens. “What now?” I ask, my nerves on edge from the past week’s events.

  Gigi shakes her head, saying, “I think that’s Ryder Merrick.”

  “Huh, Knox’s brother? What would he be doing here?” I ask, getting to my feet to take a look. Pulling back the curtain slightly, I peek outside. No reporters are lurking around, but a huge tour bus is parked down the street.

  The only soul outside is Ryder, standing in the empty lot where his childhood home used to be—right across the street from Gigi’s house. He doesn’t look at it the same way Knox does. The house may be gone, but the ghosts that haunt Ryder are still very much present.

  There are some men you can’t help but love. You know it’s a bad idea. You know they’ve got issues and it’s not healthy, but you get sucked in by how damn cute they are.

  That is Knox’s brother, Ryder, in a nutshell.

  Nothing about the man is runt-like—he’s actually pretty buff. It’s on the inside that’s he’s stunted. He’s so damn cute, though, you just can’t help but love him. Thank God, I don’t love him in a romantic way. He’s so closed off. I pray for the woman who falls in love with Ryder. She’ll have her hands full knocking down all his walls.

  Without thinking, I walk to the front door, opening it. My guards immediately come to attention, but I hold my hand up, indicating that everything is okay. The sun feels good on my skin, the fresh air filling my lungs. Barefoot, I head across the street, the hot pavement making me walk faster. It’s a welcome relief when I reach the grass on the other side.

  “Knox send you?” I ask.

  “Knox doesn’t know I’m here,” Ryder says, turning to me and smiling. “I took a little detour on the way to his premiere.”

  “Lots of memories,” I say, and he just nods. “You haven’t been back here since . . .”

  He waves his hand, not wanting it all brought back up. “There’s nowhere I wouldn’t go for Knox.” He shakes his head, grinning at me. “Little Mae Sheridan!”

  There’s no hesitation in his voice, no pity, no looking at me like I’m anything other than the little girl who used to visit her grandmother across the street, the girl his brother loves.

  “Ryder,” I say as he wraps me in a hug. “I have all your albums on my phone.”

  Ryder and Knox look a lot alike. They’re both tall, both have those killer blue eyes, but Ryder’s always looked a little more dangerous, rougher somehow than Knox. Maybe it’s because he’s older, so he understood more when their mother was dying. Maybe it’s because he had a very strained relationship with their father. Maybe it’s the other heartbreak he suffered, the one that sent him running from Haven’s Point. I can still see that Ryder has a big heart, no matter how guarded it is.

  “Come inside,” I say.

  He shakes his head again. “I just came to pick you up.”

  I have no idea how he knew I was here, or whether he knew at all. Maybe he simply was visiting the spot of his childhood home, and I interrupted him. It doesn’t matter. He’s here now.

  “I guess you haven’t talked to Knox. There was this whole thing with pictures and my friend’s daughter. We broke up. I’m not going.”

  He sticks
his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his eyes boring into me, like he’s trying to figure me out. “Very first time I met you, we were right in this spot,” he says.

  “It was the same day I met Knox. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

  “Me, too,” he says, a certain sadness in his voice. Their mother had just died. I’m sure the memories are burned into his soul.

  He reaches over, flicking my brown hair. “You had half a pigtail,” he says. “Whacked all your hair off to make Knox feel better.”

  Playfully, I pull at my locks. “Been having a bad hair day ever since.”

  He squats down a little, catching my eyes. “You were just a little girl. You weren’t scared of your parents punishing you. You weren’t afraid of what anyone thought of you.”

  “This is different.”

  He wraps one arm around me, leans down, and whispers, “No way does that same girl stay home, miss Knox’s premiere, lock herself away. No way. Not that girl.”

  *

  It’s Sunday night. I’d normally be getting ready to broadcast my radio show, or, before things went to hell, maybe even taking the night off to attend Knox’s premiere.

  Instead, it’s come to this: No boyfriend, suspended from my job, best friend not talking to me. If what they say is true about karma, I must’ve done some seriously bad shit that I’m not aware of.

  I’ve lost everything.

  I’m a twenty-something girl, mostly holed up at my grandmother’s house, living in sweatpants and sweatshirts. Gigi calls it my heartbreak wardrobe. I guess she’s right. Crying is easier in an elastic waistband.

  I haven’t seen Everly in a few days. We’d never fought before, at least over nothing bigger than who gets the last glass of wine. I miss seeing her. I miss Gracie and Timothy, too. What I wouldn’t give to walk into the coffee shop and see his beanie loving head! To have a cup of whipped cream and listen to Gracie chatter on about something.

  It’s simple. But I don’t even have that now.

  Still, I had to do what I did. I had to end it with Knox. I love him. I won’t ever love another man the way I love him.