18. Knox #2
I take a deep breath, stepping forward, feeling every eye on me. “What do you want, Brandon? We both know it’s not me. Not really. You want someone you can control. Someone who will tell you how incredible you are and play carpet for you to walk all over.”
My gaze flicks to Knox—my Bear—held back but still radiating obsession and heat. His look isn’t cold like Brandon’s. It’s beautifully feral. Unhidden. His entire body is a promise and a vow.
For me.
Only me.
“There you go, overdramatizing everything again,” Brandon says smoothly, dragging my unwilling focus back to him.
His voice is loud enough to carry over the cops’ heavy breathing, over the rumble of Bear’s growl.
“I treated you like a prized asset. Like a diamond that just needed cutting, shaping, polishing.” His lips curl, mock sympathy dripping like acid.
“And here you are, covered in bruises, crawling through the dirt with this brute. You really think this is better?”
The insult slices, but it doesn’t land where he wants. My chest tightens, but it’s shame burning through me. It’s incandescent both of a wasted past and a very much intolerable present with this grasping, low-rent tyrant.
“Keep your diamonds and your polishing and whatnot. But, Brandon, here’s the thing,” I say, lifting my chin. “Far from crawling through the dirt, I’ve discovered I like riding on the shoulders of giants.”
Bear stills immediately, and the shift in his eyes floors me. They darken, glinting with something feral and tender all at once. “Giants?” he rasps, low and dangerous. “Better watch that plural, petal.” But his gaze stays locked on me, unflinching.
“Giant,” I amend softly. My giant. “One. Exclusive.”
His lips curl in approval and a flash of teeth, while Brandon blinks, confusion washing over his face. “Is that some kind of euphemism… or?” His head jerks toward Knox, his disgust plain. “You’ve been spreading your legs for this Neanderthal?”
“Fuck, he’s slow,” Knox mutters, the words rolling out like thunder. But it’s loud enough for everyone to hear. Snorts and muted laughter ripple across the clearing, breaking the tension for one breathless moment.
Brandon’s face turns scarlet, his composure cracking. “I’m here for what you owe me.”
I tilt my head, voice like ice. “Which is what, exactly?”
“Thought you were here because her fiancé had been kidnapped?” one of the cops cuts in dryly.
His eyes dart between Knox and me, narrowing as he takes in the way I’m standing—not cowering or pleading.
Standing on my own two feet and unafraid.
“She doesn’t look exactly kidnapped to me. The opposite, in fact.”
My breath shudders out in relief when agreement ripples through the officers. Their grips on Knox loosen now, uncertain. They’re starting to see the truth. That their preliminary assessments aren’t adding up.
“He’s not my fiancé,” I snap, voice sharp as a whip, “and you’re right, officer. I haven’t been kidnapped. I left him.”
The words hang in the air, final, undeniable.
“And I’m here of my own free will,” I add, louder this time, just to be crystal clear.
My heart kicks hard when I feel Knox’s eyes digging into me, deeper than bone, deeper than blood.
Yes, Bear. I’m here.
And I’m staying.
Brandon’s mouth twists, recovering his mask.
“You think saying that out loud makes it true? Typical. Always mistaking drama for strength.” His gaze flicks to the cops, like they’re his jury.
“I invested in her. Money. Time. Patience. More than anyone else ever would’ve bothered.
And this is what I get? Ungrateful. Delusional. ”
The word invested hits like a lash, the old familiar sting of ownership disguised as care.
I lift my chin higher, though my voice shakes. “Invested in me? How? By telling me every day how useless I was? By clipping my wings, making me beg for crumbs you never intended to give?”
His jaw tightens, but I see the flicker of unease. The first crack.
Knox’s growls lengthen and deepen, his muscles flexing against the cuffs. The cops holding him stiffen, warning him back, but I know that sound.
One more word from Brandon, one more slip, and Bear will tear free no matter what it costs him.
Brandon scoffs, forcing bravado back into his voice. “I treated you with nothing but respect. Built you up?—”
I laugh then. Actually laugh, sharp and bitter. “By breaking me down?”
The cops shift, their gazes snapping back to me. The balance is tipping.
Brandon’s face contorts. “You think you can walk away? You think I poured time into you just to see you strut off with…” His lip curls toward Knox. “…this circus act?”
Knox snarls, muscles rippling, every muscle bulging as if he’ll snap them by sheer rage. “Take one step closer. I fucking dare you. I’ll show you what a true circus looks like.” His voice is a death sentence.
Brandon hesitates. For the first time, I see unsullied alarm flickering in his eyes. He glances at Knox like he knows in his bones he’s not entirely sure he’s safe, even surrounded by cops.
Then he looks back at me, venom seeping through every syllable.
“You don’t even see it, do you?” he hisses. “This—this obsession you’re mistaking for what? The attention you crave like air? He’ll chew you up. Spit you out. And then what will you have? Nothing. Because I won’t be there this time.”
I take a step forward, pulse hammering, my gaze never leaving his. “You’re wrong. I have everything.” My voice cracks on the word, but I don’t care. “Because he doesn’t want to own me. He treasures me. And he wants me just for me . Whatever and whoever I am, I’m more than enough for him.”
The silence that follows is electric.
The cops look at Brandon like he’s just lost something vital. Like they’re almost embarrassed for him. One clears his throat. Another shifts his grip on Knox, firm but steady, like he knows this mountain belongs to the man they’re holding back.
And Knox… God.
His eyes blaze, locked on mine. Pride. Possession. Pain. All tangled in one feral look that pins me to the earth harder than any cuffs ever could.
And I know, as sure as I know my name, this fight isn’t over. But for the first time, it feels like it’s not just mine anymore.