by Linda Kage
Since he didn’t sit, I didn’t feel as if I could either, so I leaned against my counter as well, and took a big gulp. My steamy brew didn’t fill me with the courage I’d hoped it would, but I acted as if it had, anyway, and let out a refreshed sigh.
“You were up early,” I said.
Knox nodded but didn’t tell me where he’d gone, which kind of stung. He couldn’t even open up enough to tell me he’d only been working out. I hated that.
Once upon a time, we’d told each other everything, from banal to important. We’d always been so open and honest with each other. I think I missed just sharing my life with him most of all.
I began to wonder if he could read my thoughts because of the sad way he watched me, like he missed that most of all too. So I said, “What?” hoping he’d finally share...something.
But he shook his head and glanced away as if to tell me he hadn’t been thinking anything worth noting. Then he said, “You drink coffee now.”
I glanced down at my cup in shock as if, wow, I did drink coffee now. He was right; I hadn’t done that when I’d known him before. Granted, I’d only been sixteen, but still... I used to complain about how my father made himself look so important whenever he drank his morning dose. Yet, here I was, drinking it now too.
Knox had noticed the change. It gave me a moment of petty satisfaction, not just because he’d actually noticed, but because he seemed sad about it.
I’d done nothing but see all his differences since he’d gotten out. They’d been shoved in my face repeatedly, screaming at me how he was not the same guy he’d been six years ago. It only seemed fitting that he’d finally see something different in me, and missed the loss of who I’d been.
I shrugged. “Yeah. The first roommate I had after leaving home was a big coffee drinker. She got me into the habit.”
His gaze sharpened. “Pick told me you left your family as soon as you turned eighteen. You don’t have anything to do with them now.”
A part of me wanted to be bitter and snap back, “I thought you didn’t want to talk,” but a bigger part of me was just so freaking glad he finally was.
Acting as casual as possible, I said, “That’s right,” as I took a sip of my drink.
“Why?” he said quietly, his eyes filling with confusion. “Why in God’s name did you disassociate yourself from them?”
I almost spit my coffee out I sputtered so hard from the shock. But really, why did he even need to ask me that? The Bainbridge clan had destroyed any loyalty or compassion I’d ever had for them the night they’d sent Knox to jail. I had begged each family member, cajoled and cried, reasoned and screamed at them. But not one of them had showed him any kind of mercy. Whatever had happened to him these past six years—every single scar on his body—was on their hands.
And so I’d escaped them as soon as it had been legally possible.
“Because they weren’t any kind of family to me,” I said. “When I needed them the most, they weren’t there for me.”
He shook his head. “But—”
“No.” I held up a hand because he didn’t get it. He couldn’t get it. He hadn’t been raised by a true family either. “In the past few months that I’ve worked at Forbidden, I’ve come to know what real family is. And they band together when the going gets tough, they support each other, rib and tease each other, trust each other, and most of all, they accept you for who you are. I never had any of that from my mother, father, or either of my brothers. And dissociating myself from them was the easiest, most amicable decision I ever made. I have never once regretted it.”
“What about college, though?” he pressed, watching me as if he didn’t believe a word I’d just said. “Your big dream. You were supposed to become a child psychologist.”
I sighed, remembering that dream fondly...but not missing the loss of it. Glancing at him, I said, “I decided I didn’t need a fancy degree to help people.”
He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand as I moved toward the table and seated myself before curling my knees up to my chest so I could hug them. “When I was staying at the Gambles’ house before I moved in here, Noel’s ten-year-old brother would climb into bed with me each night after having a nightmare. I guess a year and a half ago, he and another brother and a sister of theirs were living with his mom...who neglected them. He was malnourished and half dead when Noel discovered how bad they had it. So he scooped all three of his siblings up and moved them in with him. But little Colton still suffers from anxiety, worries his mother’s going to return and take him away, drag him back to that other life.”
Knox slowly eased a chair back and lowered himself into it. I smiled as I watched him, loving this, loving being able to share something with him. For the past too many years, every time I’d had a happy moment and felt the urge to tell him about my day, it’d been like a knife in the gut to remember I could no longer sneak out into the trees and tell him anything.
But here he was now, listening to me.
“Finally, I googled what you’re supposed to do with kids having nightmares, and then I employed a couple of the suggestions. You’re supposed to listen and understand, so I asked him about them, and he actually told me everything. Aspen had kind of already told me, but it was more heartbreaking to hear it from Colton’s point of view. So I reassured him, like they tell you to, letting him know Noel had full custody of him now, he didn’t have to worry. And we tried to come up with ways to combat the fear. The article I read talked about nightlights and security objects and some fun-in-the-dark games to conquer your fears. So I had him search the room in the dark for some little things I’d bought him and wrapped with glow-in-the-dark stars on them. I got him a lucky rabbit foot keychain, with the whole explanation of why it would give him good luck, then I attached a keychain-sized bottle of breath spray to the rabbit foot. I told him it was monster repellant so that if he ever woke up afraid, he just needed to spritz that into his mouth and exhale to keep the bad dreams away.”
Knox cocked up a curious eyebrow. “And that actually worked?”
I sent him an impish grin. “Of course it worked. The kid’s only ten.”
When he shook his head and his lips quirked as if he might smile, my heart sang. “Where did you ever come up with the idea for monster repellant?”
I shrugged. “The article said to be creative, and the spray was hanging next to the rabbit foot for sale, so that’s when the idea came. But the moral of the story: he never came into my room at night again.” My own smile bloomed. “It was so satisfying and amazing to actually help him. Noel and Aspen have been shocked by how much more energy he’s had since he’s been sleeping throughout the night. I just...I don’t even know how to describe how rewarded it makes me feel. And to think, I’ve never sat through one class in college.”
Knox exhaled as he watched me. Then he nodded as he pushed to his feet. “Okay, then,” he said. “You’ve convinced me you’re satisfied with your life. That’s all I ever wanted.”
As he left the kitchen, I gaped after him.
His statement shocked the crap out of me. Overall, I wouldn’t have ever described myself as a satisfied person. More like antsy and unfulfilled, as if something integral in me had been missing, because he’d been missing. But to hear him say that and then just...leave?
No.
Surging to my feet, I hurried after him and caught him in the living room.
“Hey.”
He looked as if he’d been ready to escape into his room, but he paused and turned back for me.
I opened my mouth, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit to him that I’d only felt like half a person ever since he’d been gone, and I still craved that connection with him. I needed to be whole again.
So I decided it was his turn to talk.
“Now I have a question for you.”
He edged backward and sent me a leery glance, his gaze hooded. But he answered, “What’s that?”
“Why
did you kill Jeremy?”
Blowing out a sigh, he scrubbed his hand over the stubble on his head.
I knew it had to be in self-defense. I knew it. But I wanted to hear him say it. “It’s just...you were only two weeks away from getting out. Did you not think you’d get caught, or did you just not care about your freedom enough?”
I hoped an accusation like that would draw out an explanation, and his eyes did widen as if he couldn’t believe I’d ask such a thing. Honestly, I couldn’t believe it either, but I was willing to try anything to get him to crack.
“You make it sound like some grand laid-out plot, like I killed him on purpose.”
Praying I was on the right track with this line of questioning, I shrugged.
“Well, it’s a little hard to believe otherwise. He’d just been transferred to Statesburg from some prison in Florida where he’d shot someone and tried to kill his ex-girlfriend just days before your attack. But, oh, if you’re trying to tell me it was all a coincidence, that you accidentally took his life, then you’re going to need a little more to convince me.”
“I didn’t even know who he was,” he growled in a low voice.
The emotion in his eyes was broiling; he was getting so close to just letting it all bubble over. So I snorted as if I totally didn’t buy that. “Excuse me if I still don’t believe you. But his father was the reason you went to prison.”
“No.” His voice rose. “Your father is the reason I went to prison. That guy was just his lawyer and doing his job. I had no idea the punk was his son.”
“But I told you Jeremy’s name. I talked to you about how creepy he was. And you just, what, forgot about that?”
“I never heard his name,” Knox bit out. “I’d never seen him inside or outside the prison before that day. They don’t exactly have meet and greets for new inmates.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“I told you I didn’t fucking know who he was!”
I jumped, startled by his roar, even though I’d been inciting it for the past few minutes. I still wasn’t expecting it.
The veins bulged in his neck and his breath was coming in unsteady pants. His fingers flexed over and over, reminding me of the damage he’d made in the break room the night he’d kissed me. Realizing he was nearly at that point again, because I’d pushed too hard, I pressed my hands against my heart in regret and whispered, “Then tell me what really happened.”
His lashes fluttered as if he just realized I’d been playing him and knew I didn’t think he was a cold-blooded killer. Huffing out a breath, he backed away from me. “I can’t tell you what happened to me in there.”
I sent him a hopeful little smile. “Okay. Not now. But maybe someday.”
He shook his head, looking haunted. “No. Never.” Whirling away, he tore out of the apartment, leaving me standing there and feeling like the crappiest piece of slime ever for pushing him so hard.
“So what did you do on your actual birthday? Did your family do anything for you?”
My lashes fluttered open as Knox’s question echoed through his chest and into my ear, where I had my cheek pressed against his heartbeat. After we brought each other to climax, he’d sunk to the ground, settling me in his lap. Now we held each other while the warm afternoon lulled us into a coma-like state.
“Mmm?” I murmured before motioning to the heart etched into wood above our heads. “Nothing as amazing as that.”
“But they did something for you, right?”
It was beyond me why he was so eager to talk instead of cuddle today. It had worried me at first—I’d been afraid he’d moved on and found someone else. But now that I was here in his arms, losing him was the last concern I had.
“Of course, they did something.” I rolled my eyes. “My mother is the queen of party planning. She loves having a reason to celebrate pretty much anything. She catered in lobster, and they had some of their closest friends over.”
“Lobster?” Knox snorted. “Nice to hear they got all your favorite foods.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me. “And did you say their closest friends?”
I nodded. “Some of my father’s coworkers, Mother’s fellow charity planners and families, their lawyer—”
“Their lawyer? Did he bring his skeevy son? What’s his name? Jeremy?”
“Yeah.” I sighed and curled closer to him. “He was there too.”
He began to stroke my hair. “He didn’t try anything with you, did he?”
“No. He just teased me about being sixteen and never been kissed.”
“The ass. Wait, why’d he think you’d never been kissed if the last time he saw you, he accused you of being sexually active?”
“Probably because I set him straight about all that the day he accused me.” I lazily drew the words I love you on his chest with my finger.
“I love you too.” Pressing a kiss to my temple, he asked, “And he didn’t try to kiss you himself?”
I shook my head. “No.”
His fingers found my hair. “Good. Did you get any good presents?”
Clenching my teeth, I wished he hadn’t asked that. So I mumbled the answer, hoping he dropped it. Except he frowned and lowered his ear to my mouth. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I said I got a car,” I muttered on a sigh.
His eyes widened. “Holy shit! Really? A car? What kind?”
I looked up at him nervously. “You aren’t mad?”
“What?” He blinked and frowned. “Why the hell would I be mad?”
“Because...” I glanced away, blushing. “My parents can just go out and buy me a brand new—”
Catching my chin, he coaxed me into looking up at him. “You can’t help it if your family has money and mine doesn’t. I think it’s amazing you have something to drive. Be grateful, not ashamed of your good fortune.”
I made a noncommittal sound and burrowed into him, wishing I could pass some of my “good fortune” his way so he didn’t always have to work so hard.
“What kind is it?” he asked, nudging his shoulder into mine.
“An Audi.” I looked up in time to catch his eyebrows lifting, impressed.
“Cool. I want to see it. Wait. Can I see it?”
As an idea hit me, I perked to attention. “You want to drive it?” I offered instead.
His mouth began to fall open before he sputtered, “Umm…hell, yes.”
“Shit, City, I’ve never been in a car this nice. Goddamn, it even smells awesome. Don’t you love that new leather smell?”
Grinning at him from the passenger side, I curled my legs up onto the seat with me and rested my cheek on my knees. “I love you more.”
“Ditto.” He grinned at me as he ran his palms over the steering wheel. “But you gotta admit this ride is sweet.”
I shrugged because, yeah, it was a nice car, but it didn’t really feel like mine. Across the center console from me, Knox groaned as he reached forward to run his fingers over the dash.
Cocking up one eyebrow, I asked, “Are you ever going to drive it, or just sit there and stroke it all night?”
“Hush.” He held up a finger my way. “I’m savoring the moment.” Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and then sighed. “God, that’s nice.”
I shook my head in wonder. “I can’t believe you took a night off from work just so you could sit in the driver’s seat of my car and smell it.”
“Oh, Lord. I can.” He breathed it in again, and I laughed. Then he opened his eyes and started the ignition. “Okay, let’s drive.”
“Finally.”
His lips quirked at my overdramatic sigh. “Mind if I take it out onto the highway?”
We’d met on a backcountry road. Knox had hiked nearly a mile to get there and meet me, which I hadn’t liked much, but it’d been his idea. I had to admit, it was smart thinking. Absolutely no one else was around.
With a flutter of my hand, I motioned for him to go. “Take it wherever you like.”
He glanced
at me. “Dangerous words, sweetheart. What if wherever I like is a completely different town far away from here, where no one knows either of us, and I set up house with you and keep you with me for the rest our lives?”
A grin lit me up from the inside out. “Then I’d say floor it so we can get there faster.”
Chuckling lightly, he turned his attention to the car as he gingerly pulled it onto the road. “I wish. If we went away together now, we’d probably be forever on the run from your parents. I’d never find a job, and we’d be dirt broke and homeless within a week.”
I sighed. “You just have to be so practical and realistic about it, don’t you?”
“Honestly? Yes, I do, otherwise I might be tempted to actually try something dumb exactly like that.”
A flutter of excitement rippled through my stomach over the idea of escaping with him and never coming back, of never having to worry about sneaking away to be with him ever again. It thrilled me that he wanted the same thing. I took a moment to envision what it’d be like if we just took off now and never came back.
“Ready to see what this thing will do?” he asked, jerking me from my daydream. We’d just reached the highway and he’d halted at a stop sign.
“Go for it.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Just go!” I laughed at his hesitance, then I screamed and scrambled for some support when he peeled out, kicking up dust behind us and burning rubber when we hit pavement. “Oh my God, you’re crazy.”
“You said I could do whatever I liked.” He gave one of those boys-and-their-toys laughs and pressed his foot harder against the gas. “Fuck, this thing can move.”
I threw back my head and joined him in his joy because it felt so freeing.
He kept it at top speed for about a mile, and we reached 120 miles per hour before he decided to back it off. But the rush of speed was still flowing through both of us when he turned down another gravel road. “Damn that was fun,” he panted out, finding the opening of a field to pull into where a row of trees partially concealed us.