Knox (A Merrick Brothers Novel)

by Prescott Lane

  When he first came back, I was concerned about losing my freedom, my privacy, even my job, but those seem like small things when compared to what happened with Gracie. My friends and family shouldn’t have to lose anything for me to have love. They shouldn’t have to be scared or worse because my heart belongs to a movie star. I can’t do that to them. I only hope Everly will forgive me.

  It’s been a few days. I’ve tried calling her and Timothy, but they won’t answer. I’ve left a dozen messages of apology. I don’t want to go over to their house or the shop and risk upsetting Gracie, but if I don’t hear from them soon, I will. I’ve lost too much to lose them, too.

  And I’m desperate for information, to find out what, if anything, Timothy and Everly know about the person who took Gracie and what exactly happened. There hasn’t been any news coverage, either. I suspect the police are holding what they know close to the vest. I’m totally in the dark.

  I gave up Knox to keep them safe. The thing is, there will always be another target. If this psycho hadn’t chosen Gracie, they could’ve gone after Gigi, or anyone important to Knox and me. Maybe even our future children. So I did the right thing. I did what I had to do. I know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier on my heart.

  Gigi told me that all love is about loss. The loss was just too great this time.

  News of our breakup has already hit the airwaves. I don’t know how the media found out. I certainly didn’t tell them, and I can’t imagine Knox did, either.

  Most of the paparazzi left town with Knox. He’s the star, not me. Gigi’s heard there are a few stragglers, but for the most part, Haven’s Point is quiet again. Somehow, they managed to keep Gracie’s kidnapping being tied to Knox’s stalker out of the press. Not sure how Heath pulled that off. I guess he’s good for something. Everly would’ve flipped her shit if Gracie had become a tabloid story.

  Gigi takes a seat beside me on the sofa. I haven’t slept at my cottage since Knox left, mostly because Gigi wants me close. She’s not convinced that just because I broke up with Knox, his stalker still won’t target me. That’s why I haven’t dismissed my security guards, either—not that Knox would let me. He writes their checks, so they report to him. Still, it eases Gigi’s mind to have me here, so I’ve stayed. For me, it’s nice not being alone. Doesn’t matter how old I get, I still need my grandmother. I always will.

  And who knows how long it will take to find this crazy person. They seem elusive. I remember hearing somewhere that most crimes are committed by people we know, but that’s not the case for celebrity stalkers. The list of suspects is literally the whole world.

  “The premiere is tonight,” Gigi says, patting my leg.

  “It’s funny,” I say. “After our last breakup, I totally blocked him out. Wanting never to see him again, but now I want to watch. His movies, the premiere—those are the only times I’ll be able to see him, so . . .”

  My voice trails off, cracking, and I lower my head, my hair covering my face.

  “Then we’ll watch with you,” I hear Everly say from the doorway.

  I look up, seeing her holding Gracie in her pajamas, but she still gives me a sleepy smile and little wave. It’s the first time I’ve seen Gracie since she was taken, and my emotions get the better of me, tears streaming down my face. I’m so thankful she’s alright. There are no words.

  Everly takes a seat beside me, and Gracie reaches up, wiping my face. “Why you crying?”

  “I’m so happy to see you,” I say, pulling her and her mom into a hug.

  “I couldn’t let you be alone today,” Everly says. “I know tonight is going to be hard on you.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, holding her closer. “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head, glancing down at Gracie, smooshed between us.

  “Gracie, why don’t you come with me?” Gigi says. “We can get pillows and blankets, snacks. Make a pillow fort.”

  “Like a sleepover?” Gracie asks.

  “Yep, just like that,” Gigi says, taking her hand, and giving me and Everly a look, knowing we need some time.

  “Did I hear that Ryder Merrick showed up at your house?” she asks.

  “He stopped by to . . . encourage me to talk to Knox. I guess he was just doing what big brothers do,” I reply.

  “Good. I was worried for a minute that you were going to lay claim to both Merrick brothers, and that would be a shame for some lucky woman,” she responds jokingly.

  “God help the woman that lands Ryder Merrick,” I reply, thinking back on how hard it was to turn down his request to accompany him to Knox’s premiere.

  “Though I guess both Merrick brothers are technically up for grabs?” she questions as she grabs my hand.

  Everly and I sit in silence for a minute, holding each other’s hands. “Everly, I can’t tell you how . . .”

  She shakes her head at me. “You broke up with Knox because of what I said.”

  “I broke up with Knox so the people I love could be safe.”

  “The other night,” she says, “I was out of my mind. I said things that . . . Things I’m sorry for. I needed someone to blame, someone to hate, to lash out at. I wasn’t thinking straight. I never thought you’d break up with him for me.”

  “I’d do anything for you, for Gigi, Gracie,” I whisper.

  “Oh, Mae,” she says.

  Clearing my throat and shaking away my tears, I say, “Let’s just get through tonight.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Knox

  My name is being screamed from every conceivable direction.

  Wave.

  Smile.

  Wave.

  Smile.

  Stop for picture with a fan.

  Cameras and lights everywhere.

  This is life on the red carpet.

  It takes forever to walk the five hundred feet into the theater. Normally, you could walk the length of it in a few minutes, but this will take me close to an hour to maneuver.

  The early reviews on the movie are through the roof, calling it summer’s big blockbuster. There’s even been some Oscar buzz, but everyone in the business knows that summer movies don’t get the nod from Oscar. It doesn’t matter to me either way. I don’t need a gold statue to validate me as an actor. I have one already.

  And frankly, I hate the whole award show season, going from show to show presenting awards. No other profession in the world feels the need to congratulate itself on a job well done—at least not the way we do. It’s ridiculous and pompous, if you ask me. We are all paid handsomely for our part, we don’t need an extra pat on the back.

  I’m directed to one of the many interviewers waiting on the carpet. My co-stars have already been down the line. That’s the way it works. The bigger the star, the later you arrive. Tonight, I’m the last to arrive.

  Smile for the camera!

  The interviewers ask the standard questions. Who are you wearing? Tell me how you prepped for this part. What drew you to this project? It’s most always the same drill—and certainly tonight it is by design. Heath made sure of it. The evening has all been perfectly orchestrated, even more than usual. They all know I’m not answering questions about my personal life.

  And they better not even ask.

  Normally, an actor doesn’t walk the carpet alone. You are flanked by a couple handlers, your publicist or agent. Heath has that role tonight, but he’s hanging back. He’s here to usher me along if someone tries to slip in an uncomfortable question. Then they will be blackballed for life.

  So far, so good. It’s the same questions over and over again as I make my way down the carpet. I’d rather spend my time with the fans, some of whom have been waiting here for hours just to catch a glimpse of me and my co-stars, so I make sure my attention always returns to them.

  I don’t ever want to lose sight of the fact that going to the movies is expensive for the average person, especially when there are so many streaming options. Stopping and taking a selfie is the least I can do in retur
n.

  “Where’s Mae?” someone from the pack of fans yells out.

  It’s amazing how I can hear her name over everything else. Cameras are flashing, people are screaming, but it’s her name that has my full attention. I have at least a thousand cameras on me at the moment, so I can’t react.

  Ignoring the question, I move down the row, shaking hands, taking pictures, giving hugs. I never get used to this. I’m just a guy from Haven’s Point, Colorado. I haven’t cured cancer. I’m not God. There’s really no reason for people to scream when they see me, yet they always do.

  “Is Mae coming?” another person yells.

  Smile.

  Wave.

  Ignore the gaping hole in my chest.

  There are so many things wrong about what happened, it’s hard to wrap my mind around it. The pictures, her job insecurity, Gracie, her leaving me—it’s all gut wrenching and enough to drive a man to the brink. She’s gone.

  That’s hard to swallow.

  I can’t say that I really blame her for leaving me. How’s she supposed to trust me to take care of her, watch out for her, when I failed so epically? I have no one to blame for this but myself.

  Smile.

  Wave.

  Smile.

  Wave.

  Just a few more feet to go, and I’ll be inside the theater. The lights will go out, and I won’t have to smile anymore. I know Ryder is already inside, having gone in a back entrance to avoid all of this. Perhaps he had the right idea.

  For a moment, I close my eyes, the past five years of my career flashing before me. I stood on a carpet similar to this one and lost Mae the first time. Now here I am again, without her.

  Fuck it! I don’t care about the script we have planned for tonight. I don’t care how much Mae pushes me away. I’m not going without a fight, and that starts right now. I motion to Heath, who’s not far away. He steps toward me, and I lean over, whispering what I want him to do.

  Five years ago, I lost her on a red carpet. Tonight, I will win her back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Mae

  Gracie’s asleep in her pillow fort, her hand still in the bowl of chips she was snacking on. I’m on the sofa with Gigi and Everly flanking me. We’ve got my laptop on the coffee table, open to an entertainment news outlet that is broadcasting the premiere.

  It reminds me a lot of that fateful night five years ago, when I sat surrounded by college girlfriends, waiting to catch a glimpse of my man on his first red carpet. I was so excited then.

  Here I sit again, surrounded by women that love me, only this time, the breakup already happened.

  I’ve come full circle.

  Only the circle is broken.

  We’ve seen all the interviews with his co-stars. We’ve heard from the director. They’ve broadcast some early reviews of the film, all glowingly positive.

  Then I saw him.

  Handsome as ever, stepping out of a limo, waving to his throngs of fans, smiling wide.

  I know it’s not real. I broke his heart less than forty-eight hours ago. He’s doing his job.

  Everly and Gigi both move closer to me, and I smile at them as we watch him saunter down the carpet. I watch every step and move he makes. I love him. That will never change.

  Not long ago, we talked about me being beside him tonight. Even though I’m not there, I hope he knows I still love and support him. I hope he doesn’t hate me and can understand why I did what I did. It’s what I had to do.

  Finally, he reaches the last interviewer before entering the theater. They ask him the same basic questions about who designed his tux and how he prepped for the part that he’s answered numerous times already. Knox smiles and answers, charming as ever, but then . . .

  “Reports are swirling that your relationship with your hometown girlfriend, Mae, has ended, and that you are once again single. Care to comment?” the interviewer asks, sticking the microphone in front of his face.

  Knox looks directly into the camera, like he’s looking right at me. “I am very much taken,” he says. “Mae is the love of my life. The one. Always will be.”

  My hands fly to my mouth, trying to capture a broken sob, but it escapes anyway. I want to hug my laptop, hop on a plane tonight, and rush to him. But I can’t. The very reasons I can’t surround me—Gracie, Everly, Gigi. Nothing has changed.

  Sometimes love isn’t enough. Perhaps that’s what hurts the most. My heart feels like it’s breaking over and over again, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. The pain of losing him again isn’t going to go away. Knowing it’s for the best doesn’t make it any easier. Even being confident I’m doing the right thing doesn’t make my heart hurt any less.

  Gigi and Everly are both talking to me, but I can’t focus on them, my eyes glued to the screen, lost in my feelings, watching Knox disappear into the theater.

  Five years ago: “Very much single.”

  Tonight: “Very much taken.”

  Gigi reaches over, closing the lid of the laptop. “Guess he doesn’t hate me,” I say. “That’s a positive.”

  “Maybe you should talk to him. You know, in person. Not over a cassette,” Gigi says, and I can hear the scolding in her voice.

  Yes, I know it was a chicken shit way to break up with someone, but I wasn’t strong enough to do it face to face. “Let’s talk about something else,” I say.

  “Any word from the radio station?” Everly asks. “About when you can . . .”

  “No, and that reminds me,” I say, my eyes going to the clock, seeing it’s almost ten. “Amy should be doing the show in a few minutes.”

  “No offense to Amy, but you are irreplaceable. The station will figure that out soon,” Everly says, getting an evil little glare in her eye. “Should we listen?”

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Come on,” Everly says. “Might be good for a few laughs.”

  I look at Gigi, who nods, elbowing me slightly.

  “Okay, maybe just a few minutes,” I say half-heartedly, opening the radio app on my phone.

  It’s easy enough to find, but I hesitate for a moment before I push play. Do I really want to hear someone else on my show, my baby, the nationwide broadcast that I built? The answer is no.

  But my hope is to be back on-air soon, so I guess I need to know how things are going. Plus, I’m curious how Amy will do, what topics she will raise, whether she gets into her own personal life. I hit the play button, and the intro comes on, followed by Amy’s voice.

  She starts by giving a very brief explanation that she’ll be filling in for a bit, but doesn’t offer any details. It’s obvious corporate told her what to say at the outset—they had her read from a prepared script. Nothing on my show has ever been scripted, but that was probably a good idea for Amy at the start. Having the words in front of her probably helped calm any nerves she may be having, allowed her a little time to find her footing. I know I was nervous my first show. I still get nervous sometimes.

  “She’s calling herself Reverend Mother,” I whisper, a bit annoyed, but also admiring how clever that was.

  I truly hope my friend and co-worker does well. She’s been loyal and good to me the past few months. And who knows, maybe soon we will be neighbors in Haven’s Point. I wonder where her apartment search stands.

  After the script, Amy segues into an overview of the topics she wants to cover tonight and, of course, invites any and all to call in and discuss.

  Gracie wanders out of her makeshift pillow fort, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, baby, were we being too loud?” Everly asks, cuddling her close.

  Her lips in a little pout, Gracie points to my phone and says, “The cupcake lady.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Mae

  I lower the volume on my phone and ask, “Who’s the cupcake lady?”

  “That’s what Gracie calls the woman her took her,” Everly says, a confused look in her eyes.

  “A woman?” I cry. “The police never gave us any detail
s. They wouldn’t. And you and I haven’t spoken since, so I had no idea what actually happened.”

  “Apparently, it was a woman with black hair, wearing sunglasses,” Everly says. “She opened the door of The Tune Up, finding Gracie alone. It’s unclear if this woman knew the shop is briefly closed at that time. She didn’t come all the way inside. She called Gracie by name, then asked Gracie if she knew Knox. Gracie said she did.”

  Everly turns to Gracie and asks, “Is that right, baby?”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  I guess they’ve been over this a thousand times already—at home and with the police—but I’m struck by how calm Everly is while relaying this information. She’s not freaked out, trembling, just recounting the facts. My head is spinning just thinking about it all, trying to process a child’s kidnapping. I still can’t get over that someone targeted Gracie because of Knox.

  “The woman said she had a cupcake in the car waiting for Gracie,” Everly continues. “Gracie remembers the car was dark blue and had four doors.”

  “And, and . . .” Gracie interrupts, excitedly, “she let me sit up front. Like a big girl. No car seat.”

  My eyes catch Everly’s. “Apparently, that was the best part,” Everly says, a certain tone in her voice.

  Gracie leans closer to me, whispering, “I think Mommy is mad I sat up front with no car seat.”

  I can’t help but grin at her innocence, so thankful this whole thing hasn’t scarred her for life. The rest of us will happily carry those scars.

  “Gracie, how long were you and the lady together?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” she says.

  Everly jumps in. “She doesn’t know how long they were in the car or the cemetery. Mae, can you turn up the volume on your phone?” I do, then Everly takes her daughter’s little hand. “Now, Gracie, honey,” Everly says. “That’s Miss Amy on the radio. She works with Mae. You met her at Gigi’s birthday.”

  Gracie just shrugs. “She’s the cupcake lady.”

  A chill goes through the air. We all feel it. This feels wrong, but maybe right at the same time. Everly’s eyes go to me. Gigi’s hand lands on my shoulder. “The lady on the radio is the lady that took you from the coffee shop and left you at . . .” Everly’s voice gives way. “You’re sure?”