Hard Knox

by Nicole Williams

  “You’ve been talking to my mom, haven’t you?” How many times had I heard that phrase from her? Plenty, although I supposed I’d never really taken them to heart.

  “Yeah, a bit, but she’s not the one I heard that one from.”

  I tilted my head.

  “Maggie used to say that all the time. To me. Although I never really got the sentiment behind it until I met my match in you and realized we could both be our lovable, independent selves”—we both raised our eyebrows at that—“yet look after each other at the same time.”

  I blew out an exasperated sigh. “Do you have to have a really great explanation for everything? Can’t you just, one time, shrug and admit you weren’t thinking and totally fucked up? Just so I can be mad at you for a while?”

  He wrinkled his nose as he shook his head. “Nah.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to give you any reason to be mad at me. I don’t want to give you a reason to hate me because, as much as I might have begged you to do that, you’re the single most important thing in the world to me, Charlie Chase. You’ve become my world. And how do I live in a world where you don’t exist?” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he shrugged.

  Knox rarely looked vulnerable. He rarely looked like anything but an impenetrable two hundred pound fortress of muscle and steel, but right then, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a person look so fragile. I reached out for him as he closed those last few steps between us and took my hand.

  “Where do we go from here, Knox? What comes next?” Now that the pieces behind us were accounted for, those were the important questions.

  “We nail the bastard who did this to you. We nail the rest of his fellow bastards with him. We make sure they suffer for every pill they dropped, every girl they took advantage of, and every ounce of entitlement that made them think they weren’t taking anything they didn’t deserve.” His hand around mine was gentle, but his expression wasn’t. “We crush them—one by one.”

  My heartbeat picked up just thinking about the challenges ahead of me—ahead of us. Like anything though, we’d tackle them one by one, day by day. “How are we going to put together an ironclad case against Beck? My memories of that experience are lacking, to put it generously, and it’s no secret there’s no love lost between you two. An attorney will spin that, along with your prior record, to try to get him off. We can’t let him get away with it. We can’t let him think he can just keep doing this and nothing will happen to him.” My stomach tied into ropes thinking about passing Beck on campus after what he’d done. He wouldn’t hesitate to do it again to the next girl he set his sights on.

  “We’ve got ironclad, Charlie. We’ve got it.” His expression darkened. “That bastard is going down, and the rest of them are too.” He must have noticed my confusion, because he squeezed my hand before continuing. “There was a—”

  “Video,” I whispered after another flash. “He was taking a video because . . .” I concentrated on the image of Beck behind a camera, his lazy smile as he explained why . . . “He needed proof in order to be elected president of the Sigma Nus.”

  Knox’s jaw ground together. “I should have killed him. I really should have finished that sorry son of a bitch.”

  I shook my head. “You would have gone to prison.”

  Knox huffed. “It would have been worth it.”

  I motioned my hand around the room then down my bruised body. “And miss out on all of this?”

  His expression lightened some as his thumb circled my wrist. “That’s what jail breaks and living life on the lam are for. I could have had my Beck-killing cake and eat living my life as a free man with you too.”

  My body was tired, and my mind was exhausted. We had so much more work to do, but it could wait a few hours. Shifting to the edge of the bed, I patted the empty space beside me.

  Knox didn’t hesitate to curl up next to me. He draped his arm, leg, and head over me, cocooning me from the big bad world—or at least trying to.

  I slid my leg through his, found his hand again, and closed my eyes. “So you’re saying we give Beck, the bastards, and the rest of the world hell?”

  “I’m saying you do whatever you think you should do. I’ll be there with you every step of the way, whatever you decide.”

  I hadn’t fought the good fight for so long to give up when it mattered most. The thought of videos and reports and hearings and prosecutions was enough to make me want to retreat, but I couldn’t. Others might try to sweep this kind of a thing under the rug, but others had died from it. That was why I had to speak out. I had to be the voice for the thousands of others who’d quieted or lost theirs.

  “Give ‘em hell it is,” I said, twisting around to face Knox. “But first, why don’t you kiss me? I do my best hell-raising fresh on the heels of a good kiss.”

  As Knox’s lips lowered to mine, I focused on holding on to that kiss, that moment, for as long as I could. But like all near-perfect moments and mind-numbing kisses, it had to come to an end.

  FAST FORWARD FROM one amazing kiss to the last day of my sophomore year at Sinclair. Fast forward through multiple police questionings, just as many briefings, twice as many interviews, and one trial consisting of ironclad evidence, a sullen, excuse-ridden defendant, and a hell-raising prosecutor. Fast forward through Knox Jagger getting thrown out of the courtroom after charging through a court gate and guard to wrap his hands around Beck’s neck when Beck told the court I’d been “leading him on” and that the video camera had been all my idea. Fast forward through lost sleep, new nightmares, and becoming even more of an outcast at Sinclair.

  That summed up almost three months of my life. I’d always considered myself a strong person, built of a little more grit and gruel than the girl next to me, but those few months had almost stripped me of every last bit of it. Just when I was certain I didn’t have the strength to sit through another uncomfortable questioning, or watch that heinous video one more time while my attorney scrolled down more notes, or have one more journalist approach me when I was on my way to class, Knox was there to lend me some of his. Or, as he liked to put it, remind me there was always more strength inside me if I took a moment to look.

  He’d gotten me through difficult days and nightmare-ridden nights. He’d gotten me through all of the finger-pointing after everyone found out what had happened, and he stood by me when Sinclair seemed to want to blame me for all of the bad press it started getting instead of pointing the finger at the guy and guys who were actually responsible. Knox never wavered. He was my rock and my shelter from the storm. He was the reason I made it through the stormy oceans and finally arrived in not-quite-flat but calmer waters.

  Knox Jagger had saved me in more than one way this year. And while I wasn’t sure I believed him, he said I’d returned the favor.

  It had taken time and dozens more talks like we’d had at the hospital for me to make peace with why he’d withheld vital information from me, but in the end, we’d both kept secrets from one another. We’d kept them for various reasons, but what it all boiled down to was he cared for me and I cared for him. Neither of us was eager to lose the other when those secrets surfaced. We’d messed up—it had and would continue to be a recurring theme in our relationship. I’d accepted that. Accepting the cons to Knox and me being together was easier when I knew that there was a mass of pros towering above them.

  Knox hadn’t been my only rock through all of this. My parents had been unwavering as well. As difficult as it had to have been for them to hear and see the things they did in court, they didn’t let it show. They stayed strong for me and supported my every decision along the way. When I’d told them I was staying at Sinclair to finish my degree, I’d witnessed the worry flood their eyes, but they didn’t try to talk me out of it. They knew, like I did, if I could make it through what I had this past year, I could make it through anything.

  I’d gritted my teeth, braced myself, and trudged through necessary evil after nece
ssary evil this year. I’d never lived through so many of them in such a short amount of time, but through experience, I’d gained wisdom, and I realized that I didn’t have to let my life be controlled by one necessary evil after another. They were facts of life, inescapable, and hallmarks of humanity.

  This year, the necessary evils had been abundant and overwhelming, but something else had been twice as abundant and overwhelming—the unexpected good. The good like having Knox in my life and experiencing what it was to know and be known on an intimate level, carving my path as a journalist with one uncompromising article after another, and discovering that being strong didn’t mean I could never feel weak. One of the most important lessons I’d learned all year was that being independent didn’t mean giving the world hell as a solo act. Being independent didn’t mean I had to be alone. Even when he wasn’t with me, I never felt alone with Knox in my life.

  As it was the last day of school, the students at Sinclair actually had better, more exciting things to do than point and whisper as I walked by, so I was almost skipping as I left my last class. My Great Women in Literature exam hadn’t been easy, but it was nowhere near the hardest test I’d suffered through this year. After nearly skipping my way to the courtyard, I headed to my favorite spot at Sinclair—the small patch of grass below one of the palo verde trees—where my favorite person (not just at Sinclair, but anywhere) was lounging. From the looks of it, he was reading something.

  “You’re reading. In public. People might see,” I greeted as I skip-walked the last few steps.

  Knox smiled at the paper in his hands before looking up. His eyes widened. “You’re wearing a skirt. A pink one. And a shirt that says . . .” His eyes narrowed like he couldn’t be reading it right. “Peace?” He shook his head, seeming stunned. “Is this another attempt to go incognito so no one recognizes you? Because I think you’re nailing it. No one has shouted an insult at us since you arrived a whole ten seconds ago.”

  I popped a hand on my hip. “This is my farewell message to my fellow students who’ve so unwaveringly supported me while I’ve been to hell and back these past few months.”

  Knox stayed quiet, waiting for it . . . He knew me so well.

  “The bitches is invisible.” I flashed a peace sign at a few students. “Although it seems like a bunch of people can read invisible ink because I’ve been hearing bitch mumbled in passing all day.”

  Knox gave an obligatory chuckle then grabbed my hand and pulled me down to the grass.

  “Have you seen the article?” I asked as I scooted beside him.

  “Which one?”

  I shook my head. “Only the front-page article on one of the most highly circuited newspapers in the country—the one that made national news, written by this up-and-coming college sophomore, about a certain frat house at Sinclair University?”

  His face went blank for a few seconds. Just as I was about to elbow him, he smiled and pulled something from behind his back. “I was the guy tapping his foot at the newspaper stand at two o’clock this morning. I was the guy who stood on the counter at the all-night diner I walked into right after and read the whole damn thing to the entire restaurant. I’m the guy who bought fifty extra copies and already has one at the local frame shop because he can’t wait to hang this baby on the living room wall. I’m the guy who’s so damn proud of you I just want to . . .” Knox sprung up, tilted his head back, and circled his hands around his mouth. “TELL THE WORLD THAT CHARLIE CHASE IS THE SHIT!!!”

  Every head in the courtyard turned.

  “Control yourself for once,” I teased, tugging on his wrist until he plopped back down.

  “This is big, Charlie. Huge.” Knox thumped his fist across the paper. “How many twenty-year-olds get to put their name on a front-page article of one of the biggest papers in the country?”

  I rocked my head from side to side. “Just the ones who have the inside scoop on one of the biggest college scandals to go down in years and who only agreed to tell the story if they got to write it.”

  “You’re a brilliant opportunist who makes her own future. How could anyone blame you for that?”

  I plucked at a few blades of grass, making a face. “Technically, they tried to. But when they saw I wasn’t in a negotiating kind of mood, they went ahead and let an undergrad journalism student write an article they slapped on their front page.”

  “I loved how you compared frat houses to the Nazis—how they stick together and don’t question what their leaders tell them to do, no matter what moral codes it might break.”

  “A tad over-the-top?” I asked, pinching my fingers together.

  “Nail on the head.”

  “Do you think Beck’s read it yet?” After watching the video and reliving a scene I had no memory of, I hadn’t been able to say his name for weeks. But after seeing him whisked away in cuffs that last day in court, it got easier.

  “I think the bastard’s too busy being someone’s bitch. He won’t have much time in prison for any other extra-curricular activities.” Knox still couldn’t say Beck’s name without frothing at the mouth, so bastard, scumbag, and son of a bitch had become popular stand-ins.

  “Yeah, but I bet a few of the other Sigma Nus have read it. If they weren’t already sweating, they’re dripping now.” I unfolded the paper and smiled—again—when I saw my name below the title, Monsters Among Us.

  “I’m pretty sure they’ve been sweating since an ‘anonymous party’ dropped off a box of videos at the police station that showed at least a couple dozen of them in situations that’ll earn them hard time. If they weren’t sweating before your article came out, it’s only because they’re a bunch of snakes who don’t possess sweat glands.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Thank God for anonymous parties.”

  “Amen,” Knox replied with a wide smile.

  “Just how did you get to those tapes when, from the sounds of it, they’d been under heavier lock and key than the United States Constitution?” I asked, tapping my chin.

  “How did the anonymous party get those tapes?” he corrected.

  I made a proceed motion flick of my wrist.

  “The anonymous party may have snuck-slash-broken into the Sigma Nu house late one night while wearing a black ski mask and carrying a convincing-looking pellet gun. He may have held it to the head of one of the weaker, more spineless brothers in the house, who might have peed his bed after the anonymous party threatened to kill him and the little hamster he had in the cage beside his bed if he didn’t tell the anonymous party where the tapes were, take the anonymous party to them, and not say a word about any of it unless he wanted to wake up one morning to find ‘Hammy’ in tiny pieces.”

  I shook my head, swatting his hand. “A hamster? Really? You’d stoop so low as to threaten an innocent, fluffy animal’s life?”

  “I can’t say how far the anonymous party”—each time he said it, his voice went an octave lower—“would be willing to stoop, but if you’re talking about me, then you ought to know by now that there’s no level I won’t stoop to.”

  I leaned in to kiss his cheek. Knox would go to any level for me. He would actually move the heavens and the earth if I asked him to, and I’d do no less for him. “Well, I don’t pity the D.A.’s office for the shitload of cases they’re going to have. The city’ll have to build a new jail to keep up with the number of Sigma Nus being sent to prison.”

  “The upside to half of them likely going to jail is that one of their house colors is orange, so they’re already used to strutting around in it.” Knox pointed at a thumbnail photo of Beck in prison.

  I wouldn’t exactly say Beck looked like he was strutting, but he was in head-to-toe orange.

  “And let’s not forget the other upside,” I added, folding the paper so I didn’t have to see Beck’s picture. “Sinclair’s Sigma Nu chapter is officially suspended, and their house will become the Feminist House next year.”

  “Where guys will have to worry about being raped with th
e business end of a baseball bat.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “Sorry. Bad taste.” Knox pulled me to him and kissed my face until I laughed.

  “Well, those women who will likely be living in the Feminist House next year, along with Harlow and a few others, have at least been on my side these past few months. I might have a whole bunch of haters against me, but I’m not totally alone. There’s you and three, maybe four dozen others with me.” I waved at one of the girls on Team Charlie as she passed by and she waved back. It was nice ending the year with more friends than I’d started it . . . despite the number of enemies I’d accrued at the same time.

  Knox winked my way while pulling something else from behind his back. “So enough about this big, front-page article that probably everyone in the country will read and make a mental note to not send their kids to Sinclair—”

  “Oh, that’s why I’m number one on the administration’s hit list right now.”

  “Let’s talk about this article. One that I find truly fascinating.” Knox unfolded the latest issue of the Sinclair Sentinel and pointed at the title on the front page. “Bad Boy or Good Man?”

  It had been a busy few weeks for me . . . “Catchy title,” I said around a shrug.

  “Tell me this though. Am I really a dying breed of humankind who strives to do good yet expects none to be wasted on them?”

  I shoved his chest. “You do know how to read.”

  “Given I only learned what I had to so I could read what was written about me in the women’s bathroom stalls of seedy bars, I only recognized about every fifth word, but I think I got the overall gist.”

  “Well?” I scooted closer, admiring the article I’d written about Knox.

  When Neve had finally accepted that Knox wasn’t the great white preying on the students of Sinclair, she’d given me carte blanche to write whatever I wanted. Since the whole thing had started with Knox, I decided to stick with the subject matter and tell the real story of Knox Jagger. It wasn’t nearly as inflammatory but just as complicated. It was, to date, the piece I was proudest of.