Chapter 20
APPARENTLY, PRISON GOSSIP TRAVELS FASTER THAN brEAKING NEWS, AND MY brOTHER HAS OPINIONS. #PRISONTMZ
DAKOTA
“Tell me it’s not true.” Knox’s voice boomed through the visiting room chatter like a grenade. His hands were flat on the metal table between us, and I could see the tension rippling through his forearms. “Tell me you’re not dating Axel.”
Well, hello to you too, brother dearest.
“How did you—”
“Inmates have nothing better to do than sit around, gossiping like old ladies at a church social.” He leaned back in his chair, and I caught a middle-aged woman at the next table over stealing a glance at him. Again.
Seriously? Even in prison orange, my brother apparently had game.
Objectively speaking, Knox was ridiculously good-looking.
Athletic build that even the shapeless uniform couldn’t hide, muscles that spoke of hours in the prison gym, and a face that belonged on magazine covers rather than mug shots.
His hair was buzzed shorter on the sides but longer on top in that perfectly messy way that probably took him all of thirty seconds but looked like he’d stepped out of a salon.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” he continued.
“It’s … complicated.”
“Complicated.” His eyebrows shot up. “He’s my best friend. You’re my sister. It’s not exactly rocket science why I might have an opinion about this.”
I shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “Well, you don’t have to worry about it. It’s fake.”
Knox went perfectly still. “Fake?” The word came out like he was tasting something bitter. “The hell does that mean?”
I gave him the CliffsNotes version (sans Romano family, hit man fears), watching his expression grow darker with each word. When I finished, he was quiet for a long moment, studying me with those sharp eyes that had always seen too much.
“So, you fake moved in with him too?”
“It’s temporary.”
“Jesus, Dakota.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m surprised he agreed to this. A fake relationship with you, of all people.”
“Gee, thanks, Knox. Really feeling the brotherly love here.”
His mouth quirked up on one side with the same lopsided grin that used to get him out of trouble when we were kids. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh, please. Enlighten me. How exactly did you mean it?”
“You’re sort of the antithesis of everything he stands for.”
I blinked at him. “And that was supposed to make me feel better than your first comment?”
Knox threw his head back and laughed—really laughed—and for a split second, I saw the seven-year-old boy in Hot Wheels pajamas who used to build blanket forts with me. The sound hit me square in the chest, a mixture of joy and pain so sharp, I had to swallow hard against it.
God, I missed that laugh.
“Your conversational skills are really going to need some work when you reenter society,” I said.
“Let’s hope that’s sooner rather than later.” The humor faded from his face, replaced by something heavier.
My stomach twisted. We both knew the parole board had been problematic.
Knox cleared his throat. “Look, I just meant that with Axel’s past … you should know it’s going to be hell for him.”
“It’s not exactly a cakewalk for me either.”
“But you don’t know about the skeletons in his closet.”
The way he said it made my skin crawl. “Skeletons?”
“And you, Dakota? You’re a walking reminder of everything that’s painful to him.”
Well, that’s dark as hell.
“Wow.” I sat back in my chair. “Way to make a girl feel special.”
“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I’m trying to prepare you.”
“For what exactly?”
“For the fact that this arrangement is going to cost him more than you know.”
The weight of his words settled over me like a lead blanket. Instantly, I wondered what he meant and considered pressing him on it. But I knew Knox; he’d send me a warning, sure. But he’d never tell me his best friend’s secrets.
“Well, like I said, it’s temporary and fake. We just need to convince people, and then we can go back to avoiding each other.”
Knox’s expression shifted, became almost pitying. “The truth always comes out, Dakota. The only choice is whether it’s on your terms.”
If only you knew how close to home that hits, big brother.
I was hiding more than just my fake relationship. I was hiding my entire identity, my past, the fact that my perfect influencer life was as manufactured as everything else about me.
“Anyway,” I said, desperate to change the subject, “I don’t know how you can stand Axel. He’s such an ass.”
Knox tilted his head, and I could practically see the gears turning. “You realize how ironic that is, right? He’s a respectable CEO. I’m an inmate, convicted of murder.” He paused, letting that sink in. “Yet apparently, I’m the good guy in your book.”
Shit. He had a point.
“I hate it when you’re logical,” I muttered. “It’s very unsettling.”
That earned me another laugh, smaller this time but genuine.
It transported me back to summer afternoons at the park, racing down slides and Knox always winning.
Except when some kid tried to cut in front of me.
Then Knox would appear at my shoulder, my fierce protector, ready to take on anyone who dared mess with his little sister.
“None of this Axel drama matters anyway,” I said, waving a dismissive hand.
“Like hell it doesn’t.”
“These are silly problems compared to your real-world issues.” My gaze swept the visiting room, taking in the other inmates who looked like they could snap someone’s neck for getting their coffee order wrong. “I worry about you every day you’re in here.”
“How are Mom and Dad?”
Typical Knox. Always deflecting, always worried about everyone but himself.
“They’re fine.” The lie came easily. “I still have dinner with them every week.”
“And the house?”
“Great.” Another lie.
Knox and I resumed talking about safer topics until the guard called time. Too soon. Always too soon.
“I miss you, Knox,” I said, the words catching in my throat.
He studied my face. “Why are you getting all sappy on me?”
Because what if this is the last time I see you? What if some Mafia asshole decides I’m too much trouble and puts a bullet in my head?
Not that I told him that layer of it. He didn’t need to worry about me more than he already did.
“I love you,” I said instead, needing him to know how I felt. “No matter what you did or why you did it, I love you.”
Knox’s eyes tightened. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”
Several heads turned in our direction, and I felt the weight of curious stares.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I just don’t tell you that enough.” My gaze swept the room again, noting all the big, scary men in orange jumpsuits. “Sometimes, I get afraid that you’ll …” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Get killed?” His voice was matter-of-fact.
I shrugged because, suddenly, I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat.
It was selfish, wanting him safe when he’d taken someone else’s life. But that was the thing about Knox. He’d probably take his secrets to the grave.
And something told me there was far more to his story than any of us would ever know.
I stood, motioning for Ryker to take my seat. “You two need to finish your parole prep,” I said firmly. “That’s what you’re here for.”
I could see the questions written all over Knox’s face. He was probably debating whether to grill me again, but I wasn’t giving him the chance.
After, I said goodbye to my brother, casting him one last look over my shoulder.
I’d been an unexpected visitor to him today.
Little did I know, I was about to have one of my own …