Knox Brotherhood

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “Thanks,” I mutter quietly. He shakes his head, acting like there’s nothing significant about what he’s doing. Maybe there isn’t, but maybe there is.

  “What’s that?” He growls, looking at the floor where I tossed the cash. I don’t want to tell him what it is, and I won’t. I don’t owe Christian Steele anything, even though he is helping me tremendously tonight, I still don’t owe him a damn thing.

  “It’s nothing,” I lie, hoping that he will just drop it. He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something to me, and then the doorbell rings. He shuts his mouth and walks back towards the door. I can’t see who he’s talking to, but I can hear the footsteps coming my way, wondering who the hell he invited over and suddenly feeling insanely uncomfortable being in the presence of someone else. My hair is a mess, I have Christian’s suit jacket on, my makeup is smeared; I’m a fucking wreck.

  I come face to face with a short woman who can’t be older than forty. She has curly blonde hair, big beautiful lips, and I don’t mistake the medical bag I see in her left hand. That’s when I get nervous. What on Earth is he thinking? “Baby, this is my friend, Harlow. She’s a doctor, and I asked her to come and make sure you were okay.”

  I shouldn’t like that Christian keeps calling me baby, and maybe I don’t like it, but I won’t lie and say that his pet name isn’t calming me down – because it is; it helps me forget everything that’s happened tonight. Or, no, forgetting is the wrong word. He’s helping me focus on something other than what’s going on inside of my own head.

  “Hi,” I murmur softly, waiting for the woman to say anything. She doesn’t at first. She purses her lips together and looks to Christian.

  “What in God’s name happened to her, Chrissy?”

  Oh, hell no.

  “I’m sitting right here, if you wanted to know what the fuck happened, you could’ve just asked me instead of turning to him. He’s not my fucking keeper,” I snap, not regretting any bit of my outburst whatsoever. The medical bag was the giveaway that she’s some sort of doctor or nurse, but I’ll be damned if she looks to him for questions she should be asking me. It’s fucking ridiculous.

  I’m not some traumatized girl who can’t answer questions, and I’m sure as hell not some pussy ass little bitch.

  “Well, you sure are a spitfire. I didn’t think you’d be saying much of anything looking the way you do.” She gives me a soft smirk before she looks back up to Christian. “I like her, whatever this is, you’d better not fuck it up. C’mon kid, let’s get you checked out.” Harlow walks forward and goes into what looks to be like a bedroom on the left. I can see her pass through the doors and place her medical bag down on the bed.

  I position my hands under me and push up, tossing my legs over the side of the couch. I begin to stand and walk, and I maybe get ten steps before Christian has lifted me back up into his arms and is carrying me through the doorway. “I can walk, you know,” I grumble at him. Christian mutters something under his breath that sounds like a growl. I want to ask him what he said, but before I know it, I’m sitting on the bed.

  He looks at me, brows furrowed. “Do what Harlow says. Try not to be such a pain in the ass, she’s trying to help you.” And there we go, cocky, arrogant, dickwad, Christian Steele is back.

  “I was wondering why she was so heated, now I think I know. I forgot how much of a dick you are.” Harlow glares at Christian as he heads towards the door, “Leave us alone and let me check on my patient. Get out, you big ape.” And with that, he shuts it and leaves.

  “He has always been a dick, if you’re wondering,” Harlow tells me as she looks through her medical bag, I’m not sure what exactly she’s looking for. I realize that Christian had to have been a dick for a while. You don’t just magically become one overnight. “I’d blame his brothers, but I will not give them credit for turning him into that pissy monster out there, nope, that had to be their father.”

  “I thought you just said he’s always been a dick,” I point out, and she simply smirks back as she continues digging.

  “He has, but he wasn’t when he was younger. Or…well, not really. I mean, he was kind of always a dick, but now he’s a super dick. I wonder though…”

  “What’re you wondering exactly?”

  Harlow makes an “ah!” sound, pulling out a pair of plastic gloves, as she slips them on she continues to speak. “I’ve always told Christian and his brothers if they ever needed me, for anything, all they had to do was call. I wouldn’t ask questions, I wouldn’t feel some Christian do-gooder urge to run to the police and tell them whatever I’d just witnessed. I’d simply just use the talent that God graced me with and save lives. Jordan and Logan have called me, a bajillion times at least! Now, when we’re talking about that guy who no doubt is standing right outside of the doorway listening to our conversation like a child…” She points to the door and smirks, tapping her foot at me. “He has never, ever, EVER, once called me. So, I’m a little bit curious. Why did he call me tonight? I know you’ll end up telling me, since I have to check you out and all. My point is, you must be pretty darn special to that giant asswipe out there to get him to call me.”

  I’m not special to Christian Steele at all. This is our second encounter, ever. Our first was at an art exhibit opening, it was a chance meeting, something that would have normally never happened. A wrong place, wrong time kind of situation. We had a few drinks, ate some really good food, and danced. Then, I found out who he was, and I knew. I knew that I needed to stay far away from him. It was like a flashing neon light was warning me away from him, danger, danger! I wasn’t wrong for bee-lining out the door that night and disappearing. Everyone knows what the Steeles do. People want to act like they’re dumb and don’t know a damn thing, but it’s all just a load of crock. I wouldn’t know the logistics of what he does for a living, but I know about the front, the notorious Steele Enterprises. That’s not his real business. It’s not the real way that the Steeles make their money, and I know it. The last thing I needed was for any of his enemies to come after the kids.

  If I thought that being in a relationship, or anything close to it with Christian Steele came without risk – pfft, I’d be batshit fucking crazy. I wasn’t ever worried about me because I know that no matter what happens I’ll be fine. Life has thrown me curveballs, and I’ve overcome every single one, but the kids – my kids. I’ll be damned if I ever put them in dangers path, and that’s what Christian Steele is.

  He is a danger.

  “I’m not special to him. I’m just a girl,” I tell her. I don’t want to think about why Christian insists that I am his. It’s too much to think about…tonight, Christian’s obvious claim on me…there’s just too much.

  “Somehow, I think we both know that isn’t true.” I don’t have any energy left inside of me to argue. Normally, I’d scream and yell until I’m red in the face. I have plenty of experience doing that at home with my brother, but tonight, well, tonight I just don’t have an ounce of energy left inside me. “Now, are you gonna tell me what happened tonight, or am I gonna have to go ask Chrissy?”

  I take in a deep breath, figuring it’ll just be easier to tell her what happened, so I do. I don’t leave out any gritty detail, but I also don’t give her more information than what is necessary. I just, give her what is needed for her to properly treat me.

  Harlow stares at me long and hard, and her eyes look sad, as if she’s sympathizing with me, but I don’t want her sympathy. The only thing I want is for her to tell me I’m good, and then for me to go back home to my kids. Shit, the kids. I look around the room and see a clock on the bedside table, it reads “1:32”, fuck, it’s past midnight. Luke. Shit! I don’t have my cell, it’s still at the club. He’s probably been calling and calling me!

  “You’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital and have a rape kit done? If you do, you can prosecute this guy and he can…” I stop her before she can even finish. I already told Harlow I didn’t want to go, it’s not
like it would even matter. He’d get out scot free. Men like Matteo Varca always got out, no matter what.

  “You don’t know that,” Harlow chastises as she takes off her plastic gloves and tosses them in the trash can by the bed. “I can only help you so much. You wouldn’t even let me examine you to make sure he didn’t cause you to tear, so I can’t judge why you’re so uncomfortable besides the incident itself. I just want you to take it easy, take an anti-inflammatory like Naproxen for the pain. And, Selena? You need to go and get tested for STDs. I know you don’t want to hear that, but you don’t know what he has. I just want you to be safe, rather than sorry.”

  The only good thing was that I’m on birth control, so I wouldn’t have to worry about an unexpected pregnancy. I’ve only been on it because my periods are unpredictable as all hell, and this way I can have somewhat of an estimate of when Aunt Flow is gonna come knocking into town. But I guess it was a good thing I was on it. That’s one less thing I have to think about.

  CHAPTER 8

  Christian

  I didn’t waste any time, the second that Selena and Harlow disappeared into Logan and Brooklyn’s old bedroom, I messaged both of my brothers, telling them exactly what happened and how much I wanted a head on a spike. I didn’t know who exactly had assaulted her, though, I did have my theories on who the guilty party was. Fuck it, I knew who it was. I just need Selena to confirm that for me.

  I sit on the couch, cell phone in my hand as I text Jordan back. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see movement by the door, and the next thing I know, Harlow is exiting the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. The look on her face isn’t good, I’d know that look from anywhere.

  “What don’t I know?”

  “It’s not my place to say, Chrissy, but that girl has been through a lot,” she tells me, walking across to the fridge. I watch her as she grabs a wine glass and pulls out an open bottle of Merlot that I have sitting in the fridge, pouring herself a heavy serving. She leans against the marble island as she speaks. “I know that Brooklyn and Logan left a lot of crap here, so I told her to freshen up and take a shower, then to grab something from Brooklyn’s side of the closet and come out when she’s done.”

  “Okay, good, she probably needs a hot shower after everything that happened tonight.”

  Harlow takes a sip of her wine, rotating the glass so the wine floats from side to side, then she looks over to me. “Are you in love with her?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to fall in love with her. This is the second time we’ve met, I barely know her,” I admit, knowing very well that all I want to do is to get to know her.

  “She’s feisty.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “I like her.”

  “I do too.” I smile and Harlow smiles back.

  “You realize if she actually warms up to your dickish ways that she isn’t going to put up with your shit, right?”

  “I know like I also know how you’re deflecting right now. You didn’t answer my question. What did Selena tell you that I don’t know?” I don’t divert my eyes from her. I’ve known Harlow for a while, and if you maintain eye contact with this woman, she will not lie. It’s out of her nature to do such a thing. She’s Mother Teresa if I’ve ever met her. Harlow will sure as hell look for an out, or a way to avoid the general conversation, but she will not lie straight to my face.

  She walks out from behind the bar over to the couch and sits down, tucking her legs under her. “Chrissy, uh. I’m not sure how to tell you this. I shouldn’t even be telling you this! I’m crossing the lines of doctor patient confidentiality, this is such a HIPPA violation…but I suppose I’m being selfish because I know what you do. Or, rather…I know what you’ve done in the past, and the guy that raped her deserves to be hurt.”

  She rambles on for another couple of minutes before anything valuable comes up. I love Harlow to death, but damn, the girl can talk. “She was a virgin. He took her virginity, it was awful. I feel so much for the girl…when you’re a woman you want to give that to someone who’s special to you, or at least have control of who you give it to and Selena…poor Selena had it taken from her. She wasn’t even given the choice to make that decision for herself.” She shakes her head from side to side as she finishes the rest of her wine.

  I can’t even say anything to her, the rage building up inside me will slip out, so I know that I have to bite my tongue and keep my anger bottled up inside me. There will be a time and a place where I can let it spill out, but that will not be right now.

  “Well, I’m gonna go. Thanks for the wine, and whatever you do, don’t fuck it up with her. I like her, and her sassy pants attitude. She’s good for you.” Before I know it, Harlow has her bag in her hands, and she’s straight out of my front door.

  He is a dead man.

  He didn’t just hurt my girl, he did something far worse. He took what belonged to me.

  ***

  Selena

  Why on Earth are there a million different clothing options for a woman in his apartment? Oh God, I’m so dumb. He has a girlfriend, but of course, he has a girlfriend! He’s Christian Steele. Fuck, how could I be so dumb…

  Then, why the hell is he bringing me here if she could pop in at any second? I cannot stand him, I swear to God, I cannot stand him!

  I take a long sleeve flannel button up shirt off of the hanger. It’s red and black with patches of gray running through it, and when I slide it on, it feels like perfection, so soft and warm. It may be hot this time of year in Atlanta, as it doesn’t really start to cool down until September, but dang, this shirt is just what I needed – soft, cozy, and comfortable. I open a drawer to the left of the massive closet and find what looks to be like yoga pants and leggings. I grab a pair and slide them over my legs, my curves filling out the pants well. What can I say, I’m short and stocky in just the right areas? I’m sure as hell, not one of these stick figures you see on the side of the street, and I never will be.

  Harlow let me borrow her phone, so I could call Luke, and when I spoke to him, he sounded as annoyed as ever, like how dare I bother him. The little shit wasn’t even awake! I guess that’s a blessing in disguise, though. I simply told him that I’d be home as soon as I could, and he grunted back in response.

  After I finish dressing and make sure I look presentable, I exit Christian’s bedroom, noticing a picture of a beautiful blonde girl. I’m shocked because I instantly recognize her. I’ve seen them in the tabloids together going to various charity events. I don’t know her name, or much about her either, but that has to be his girlfriend. I don’t even know why this bothers me. It shouldn’t – I don’t even like the guy, but the fact he brought me here…to where he and his girlfriend sleep, pisses me off beyond belief.

  I slip through the doorway and see him seated at the island, his eyes meet with mine at the exact same moment that mine meets with his. He looks exhausted, drained even, and I’m simply furious.

  I just want to go home, back to the kids. I want to slide in my bed and forget that this shitty night even happened. I just want everything to return to my version of normal. “Are you going to tell me who assaulted you?” I notice how he doesn’t use the word rape, but that’s what it was. I was raped, I wasn’t fucking assaulted. Assaulted sounds so…nice, it sounds like a nice word, like maybe some guy just decided to throw me around a little bit. Please, I’d rather have a black eye or bloody lip than what actually happened tonight. The word assault doesn’t even compare to the ugly truth, I was raped. Rape is one ugly fucking word.

  “Why would I?” I growl at him, it’s not like he’d do a damn thing. Matteo Varca and Christian Steele are cut from the same cloth. Even if Christian acted like he was going to do anything I’d bet that they both leave the conflict having shaken hands. No, I don’t think I’ll be telling Christian anything.

  “You are going to tell me who hurt you, Selena.”

  “I don’t have to tell you a damn thing, Christian.” I spit out his name li
ke fire because it burns. I just want to go home. For fuck’s sake, let me go home.

  “Fine. If you won’t tell me who hurt you I’ll just have to track down every last man in that club tonight. Do you know what I’ll do then?” I watch his expression change as he scoots off the barstool and stalks towards me. “I will find them, and if I can’t find them, I will hire men to find them, who will and when that happens I will make sure that every last one of them will never walk again, and that’s before I find out exactly who hurt you, sweetheart. If you think I’m bluffing, you should know me better. Especially since you know me so very well. I have something special planned for the man that hurt you.” I see the darkness that only the devil himself would have flash through his eyes. Christian isn’t lying. He is serious, and I want the devil to come out of him.

  I want Matteo Varca to pay for what he did, and I know he will.

  My decision is already made.

  “Matteo Varca. Matteo Varca was the one who raped me.”

  If Christian cares about me as much as he says he does, I know I just started a war. I know there will be blood, and I want there to be blood. I want the man who hurt me to suffer, and oh, how I can guarantee that he will.

  CHAPTER 9

  Selena

  A week has passed since that horrible night. A week of normalcy, or as normal as it can be. I have a constantly screaming toddler, pissed off teenager, and one feisty pre-teen. This may not be every young woman’s dream life, but I wouldn’t trade my family for the world. After all – they are my entire world.

  Once upon a time, I thought I’d be married and having my own children right about now, and if it didn’t happen yet, it would be the plan someday soon. Look how life throws us curveballs.

  “Selena!” I hear Luke’s screaming from the kitchen. Shaking my head, I walk towards the living room and find Sabrina shaking the remote in front of him. “She turned off the game. I need to watch this. Coach wants us watching so we can pick up on pointers of how the pros handle certain situations. I want to do well. We both know that scouts are coming to games now. I need this, I need the freaking scholarship.”