Chapter Six
Knox
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this much hope. Waking up, I found myself staring at the crack in my bedroom ceiling—something I’d usually curse in the mornings because it reminded me of the half-finished repairs I still needed to do. But today, it looked…almost okay. Like the world wasn’t as broken as I once thought it was. My mind drifted to the night before, when Caroline and I came together in a way that felt both inevitable and miraculous. I’d never expected that someone as gentle and smart and pure of heart would want me, of all people. Yet somehow, she did.
Of course, my alarm clock buzzed, reminding me that real life had plans for me besides daydreaming. Linzie had a big day ahead—she was about to get the results of her educational testing from the school counselor, and Caroline was going to be there. I felt a flutter in my chest at the thought of seeing her again so soon. We’d parted last night in a haze of blissful exhaustion, and I’d half-expected to wake up discovering it was a dream. But the ache in my muscles and the lingering scent of her on my sheets told me otherwise. It was real, and it was good.
Don’t blow this, Slater, I told myself, shoving aside the covers and swinging my legs off the bed. This could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. I wasn’t just thinking about me, either—Caroline’s compassion had already started to work wonders on Linzie. I could tell a difference in her demeanor ever since Caroline began encouraging her in subtle ways, praising her talents and reminding her she wasn’t alone. She’s the kind of partner everyone needs—a believer.
Climbing into the shower, I let the hot water pummel my shoulders. A wry smile pulled at my mouth. Partner. That implied something serious, like we were building a life together. It was too soon for words like that, but I couldn’t help the way my heart thumped at the thought. The idea of Caroline as more than a fling—someone who could share both triumphs and failures—was addictive. Focus on today. The rest will come.
I towel-dried my hair and dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans, lacing up my scuffed boots. Then I made my way into the living room, where Linzie was already awake, perched on the edge of the couch with her phone. She glanced up, tension in her eyes.
“You ready for the meeting, kid?” I asked, trying to project calm. “Caroline—uh, Ms. Belle—said we’d meet in the counselor’s office at nine.”
She shifted. “Yeah, I guess. Kinda nervous.”
I moved closer, gently nudging her with my elbow. “Whatever they say, it’s just information to help us help you, right? Doesn’t change who you are.”
She let out a small breath, eyes darting away. “I guess. Just… I don’t want them to say I’m stupid or something.”
“Linzie, you’re not stupid,” I growled softly, half wanting to shake her by the shoulders for ever thinking that. “You’re one of the brightest kids I know.”
She swallowed, not entirely convinced, but she gave me a tiny nod. “All right, let’s do this.”
The drive to Hope Peak Middle School was short but tense. I kept glancing at Linzie, wondering if she’d bail at the last second. But she stayed quiet, staring out the passenger window. My own heart hammered because I knew Caroline would be there. Would she act differently after last night? I pushed the doubt aside. We were adults, and we had a job to do—support Linzie.
I parked the truck, and we headed into the main building. The front office was alive with the usual morning chaos—phones ringing, a line of kids waiting for late passes—but the secretary waved us through when I mentioned we had an appointment with the guidance counselor. Linzie stuck close to me as we navigated the hallway. When we turned a corner, I spotted Caroline standing by a closed door labeled “School Counselor: Ms. Dupree.” The sight of her made my heart skip. She wore a soft gray sweater and a pencil skirt, her blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun. She caught my eye and smiled, warmth radiating in that single look.
“Hey,” she greeted softly when we arrived. “Ready?”
Linzie swallowed, then nodded. I gave Caroline a nod too, silently thanking her for being here. My chest tightened with gratitude—this woman was giving my sister hope. We all stepped into Ms. Dupree’s office together. The counselor, a tall black woman with warm brown eyes, greeted us with a professional yet welcoming manner.
“Linzie, Mr. Slater, Ms. Belle,” she said, gesturing to three chairs arranged around her desk. “Thanks for coming.”
Caroline sat next to Linzie, while I took the seat on the other side. Ms. Dupree smoothed a stack of papers in front of her. “I have the results of Linzie’s educational evaluation. Now, before we begin, I want to assure you, Linzie, that nothing in here changes who you are. All it does is help us understand how you learn best.”
Linzie’s posture was stiff, and I rested a hand lightly on my sister’s shoulder, hoping she’d feel my support. Ms. Dupree began explaining the test scores—reading comprehension, decoding skills, writing fluency. I tried to follow along, but the jargon was dizzying. Caroline, however, seemed fluent in this language, nodding at key points, occasionally clarifying for me.
“In short,” Ms. Dupree concluded, “these patterns strongly indicate dyslexia. It’s a reading-based learning difference that affects how the brain processes written language. But Linzie is also testing above average in spatial reasoning and creativity—particularly in design tasks.”
I exhaled. “Does that… does that mean she’s actually, like, gifted in some ways?”
The counselor smiled. “She absolutely could be. Sometimes individuals with dyslexia exhibit incredible talents in areas involving visualization, problem-solving, and unconventional thinking. Her overall IQ is above average. She’s bright—and with the right accommodations, we can help her succeed in reading and writing tasks too.”
Linzie stared at her lap, tears forming. Caroline slid an arm around Linzie’s back. “Did you hear that, sweetie? You’re not failing because you’re lazy or stupid. You just need strategies that fit how your brain works.”
Linzie’s shoulders began to shake. “I… I thought I was just dumb,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Everyone else in class can read fast, and I just… I lose track of the letters, and my head hurts. I didn’t want anyone to know.”
My own throat tightened at her confession. God, kid, I’m sorry I didn’t see it earlier. I reached over, placing a hand on her other shoulder. “You’re a great kid, Linzie. In fact, you’re better than great – you’re amazing. Remember how you used to build those incredible LEGO villages made for kids twice your age? And your sketches… you’ve always had a knack for drawing. I knew there was something special about the way your mind worked. This just proves it.”
She let out a muffled sob, leaning into Caroline’s embrace. I could see tears streaking down her cheeks. My chest felt raw and achy, but it was a good ache—like something was finally being set right.
Ms. Dupree smiled encouragingly. “We can arrange a 504 plan or an IEP, depending on your preferences, which will detail specific supports in the classroom. Extended test times, maybe one-on-one reading sessions or technology aids. You’ll have options.”
Caroline rubbed Linzie’s back, her voice gentle. “See? You’re going to have so many resources to help you shine. This is a good thing.”
Linzie sniffled, wiping her face. “Okay,” she breathed, exhaling a long shaky breath. “Yeah, I… thanks.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, shifting forward in my chair. “Thank you, Ms. Dupree,” I said, voice a bit rough. “And Ms. Belle.” I turned to Caroline, meeting her eyes. She smiled softly, understanding without words.
The counselor handed us a folder with recommendations, then asked Linzie if she had any questions. She shook her head, still looking overwhelmed, but not as defeated as before. Ms. Dupree encouraged her to reach out anytime she needed to talk. Then she stood, signaling the meeting’s end. Caroline gave Linzie a final supportive squeeze, and we stepped into the hallway together.
We’d only taken a few steps when Linzie tugged on my sleeve. “Uh… Knox? So… about the Valentine’s Dance on Saturday night. Everyone’s going—my friends, basically the whole school. Could I…?”
I blinked, remembering Caroline had mentioned volunteering as a chaperone for that. The notion of my sister wanting to attend a school dance—just days after learning she had dyslexia—felt like a little much. But the relief in her eyes, the spark of excitement… it made me want to say yes. “Sure,” I said, glancing at Caroline for confirmation. “If you want to go, do it. I’m glad you’re re-engaging with friends.”
Linzie’s face lit up, tears replaced by a growing grin. “Really? Thank you!” She paused, as though deciding something. “Caroline—uh, Ms. Belle—do you think you could, y’know, help me pick out a dress or something? If that’s okay, of course—I mean, I don’t want to impose or anything.”
I smothered a laugh, touched by my sister’s request. Caroline’s eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. “Of course! I’d love to. We can do a quick shopping trip—something tasteful, not too grown-up. I promise to keep it age-appropriate, if your brother’s worried.”
I snorted. “Yeah, I’m all for you wearing what you want, Linz, but let’s not go for super revealing, yeah?”
Linzie rolled her eyes. “I’m thirteen, not a wannabe adult film star. Relax.” But there was humor in her tone.
Caroline giggled, patting Linzie’s arm. “We’ll find something you’re comfortable in. And I’ll be there at the dance, chaperoning, so I’ll help if you need moral support.”
Linzie’s smile returned in full force. “Awesome. Thanks.” She glanced at me, a bit sheepishly. “Seriously, Knox… thanks for letting me do this. It means a lot.”
My chest felt warm. “No problem. You deserve some fun. We can talk more about… all this… once we get home, okay?”
She nodded, checking her phone with sudden teenage absorption. Caroline and I exchanged a look—one of those small, private smiles that made my heart turn over. God, she was beautiful.
After dropping Linzie at a friend’s place for dinner and a movie—she was practically bursting with excitement about the dance—I headed back to my shop with the intention of closing up early. I wanted to check inventory, then maybe swing by Caroline’s apartment with dinner. Girlfriend, I thought, tasting the word mentally. Did I dare call her that? Maybe not out loud. But in my mind, that’s how I saw her.
The sun had just set, leaving a purple glow in the sky. I parked my truck out front and began to head inside. The streets were quiet, a slight breeze stirring the cold February air. As soon as I stepped toward the shop’s front door, though, I heard a voice behind me.
“Knox Slater,” it drawled, dripping with an edge of menace.
I froze. Slowly, I turned to see a figure leaning against the side of the building, partially hidden in shadow. He wore a leather jacket with patches that made my stomach lurch. MC patches from my old crew. Or at least a rival affiliate of the group that once had ties to me. My heart pounded in my ears.
The man stepped into the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. I recognized him—Gary “Spade” Milligan, a guy who’d been tangentially involved in the fiasco that led to my arrest. I thought he’d been locked up for longer. But apparently not.
“Spade,” I muttered, voice tense. “What are you doing in Hope Peak?”
He sneered, folding his arms over his chest. “Heard you were living the good life here, playing hero and caretaker. Thought maybe you forgot about the rest of us. Forgot about the debts that still stand.”
My anger rose. “I don’t owe you anything,” I said quietly. “We both served time. That’s the end of it.”
“End of it?” He gave a harsh laugh. “You got me locked up, you piece of shit. I lost years of my life while you found God or whatever fairy tale you’re spinning. And now you’re just prancing around, living free?” He spat on the ground. “Not how it works, Slater.”
I forced my fists to stay unclenched, remembering the vow I made. No more violence, no more settling things with a fight. “I’m done with that life, Spade. The MC, the drugs—none of that’s my business anymore. Get out of this town, or I’ll call the cops if you harass me or come near my family.
His eyes gleamed in the faint light. “Your family, huh? That pretty little sister of yours? Or the sweet piece of teacher tail you’ve been hooking up with?”
White-hot rage flared in my gut. “Don’t talk about them. Ever.”
Spade smirked, clearly enjoying the spark of fury in my eyes. “Touchy. Maybe I should pay them a visit, see how they like hearing the real story of what you did. You think you can just waltz away from everything that happened? You owe me, Slater. And I always collect.”
I took a step forward, my hands balled into fists at my sides. It took everything in me not to lash out physically. “I owe you nothing,” I growled. “You were as deep in that shit as I was. Hell, deeper. I’m not the reason you got busted. We both got locked up for the choices we made. Move on.”
He studied me in the muted darkness, face twisting with contempt. “You can act all righteous, but you’ll slip up sooner or later. Or maybe I’ll help you slip.”
My blood thundered. I wanted to smash his skull against the wall, prove he wasn’t the only one who could threaten. But that’s the old me. I gritted my teeth, stepping back instead. “Leave,” I ordered. “Final warning.”
Spade snorted, pushing off the wall. He backed away, hands raised in mock surrender. “Fine. I’ll be around, Slater. Don’t get too comfortable.” With a final sneer, he disappeared into the night, footsteps echoing on the pavement.
I stood there, seething, adrenaline pumping. My lungs felt tight, rage battling with a sick, cold fear. Damn it. I thought I’d escaped these ghosts. But they found me, and now they knew about Linzie and even Caroline. My stomach churned, heart pounding in alarm at the idea of them being targeted. I can’t let that happen.
After double-checking that Spade was gone, I locked up the garage, triple-checking the doors. The moment I entered my apartment upstairs, my phone vibrated with an incoming text from Caroline. My heart leapt, but after that confrontation, I didn’t want to drag her into my paranoia. I forced myself to breathe, reading her message:
Just thinking about you & Linzie. I’m so happy for her.
I typed back:
Yeah, me too. Thanks again.
Even as I wrote it, my head spun with possibilities. Should I warn her about Spade? That might cause her to panic or, worse, put herself at risk. No, I’ll handle it quietly. She’s got enough to worry about with her students. If Spade tried anything, I’d be ready.
But as my racing heart slowed, I realized I’d do everything in my power to protect Caroline, to shield Linzie from the darkness of my past. I stared at the text thread for a moment, then typed another line:
BTW, you’re chaperoning the Valentine’s Dance tomorrow night, right?
Her response was almost immediate:
Yes! Linzie seemed so happy about it. I’m excited to help her find a dress. Should be fun.
I rubbed a hand over my face, recalling Spade’s threat. Yes, I’d planned to let Linzie go with Caroline, but now… A swirl of anxiety made up my mind.
Think the school could use another volunteer to help with the kids? I wouldn’t mind joining you as a chaperone. Keep an eye on my sister. And all those boys, LOL. If that’s okay?
Caroline: LOL, definitely. I’m sure Linzie will be excited to have you there. And I will be, too. It’s Valentine’s Day after all. :)
I exhaled, tension slipping away briefly at her warm reply. I’ll chaperone, I decided, and if Spade tries anything, I’ll be right there. I couldn’t shake the fear that he might use the event as some twisted opportunity for revenge. But maybe if I was vigilant, he wouldn’t get the chance.
Tucking my phone away, I gazed around the apartment. It suddenly felt too quiet without Linzie’s presence. Usually, she’d be sprawled on the couch, listening to music or halfheartedly doing homework, but tonight was Friday and the weekend had begun. A pang of worry shot through me at the thought of old gang members lurking around town. Then again, my sister was safely at her friend’s house, and I’d made sure her parents were home before leaving her.
I flipped on the lamp in the living room and sank onto the couch. My mind drifted to Caroline, imagining her in that teasingly low-cut sweater she’d worn to Skyline, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her softness, her warmth. The way she made me feel valued, like I wasn’t just a screw-up with a criminal record. She saw me as a man capable of good. Even Linzie’s transformation—going from stressed and depressed to happy and relieved—had Caroline at its center. She gave us both hope, something I never realized we were starving for until we found it.
But new threats loomed. I thought about Spade, the glint in his eyes when he spat out his hatred, his talk of “debts.” If he stuck around Hope Peak, I’d have to be ready. The old me would handle it with fists or weapons, but that path led nowhere good. I can’t lose everything I’ve just begun to build. That resolution kept me planted in the apartment rather than storming off to track Spade down. My instincts screamed for action, but my new promise—my vow to live a better life—pulled me back. My mind ping-ponged between images of Caroline’s smile, Linzie’s tears of relief, and Spade’s ominous threats. I’ll protect them both, I swore silently. No matter what.