Chapter 19
Nineteen
Knox
“ Y ou’re sure this is where she is?” I asked Joey as we pulled up to some piece of shit motel over the state line in the middle of nowhere.
The sun was just about completely set, the dull glow of twilight doing nothing to improve the appearance of this ramshackle place. Only two cars were parked in the lot—an ancient Ford pickup and some cheap Toyota packed to the gills with crap. No black SUVs to be seen, no sign of Stone’s men.
Joey nodded beside me. “I was supposed to meet them here after I waited to see if you turned up,” he explained. “Then we’d take Piper back. For the wedding. Or…” he trailed off, swallowing, understanding the energy in the car right now and how fucking loose of a hold I had on the beast inside me.
“Or we’d be burying her body once we were … done with her,” he continued, fear in his eyes. Though there was also a touch of bravery for his honesty. “If Stone didn’t like the state she was in, if she refused him.”
Joey was right to be afraid. He was just the messenger, and he was helping me, but that didn’t make much difference to the urge inside of me to smash his head against the dash until his skull cracked and his brain was leaking out of his ears.
I’d never had so much blind, violent rage inside me before. I didn’t lust for blood, gore. Didn’t find the need to drag out a death for some kind of thrill. The snuffing out of life, quick, clean, painless—that satisfied me plenty.
But right then, with Piper gone, her fate undetermined, her mental and physical state unknown, there would be no satisfaction until every person who’d had a hand in this was drenched in their own blood. I would tear them apart limb from limb with my bare fucking hands if they took her from me. If they broke her. They were dead, for merely laying hands on her, but the nature of their deaths was to be determined.
Joey was still watching me. I knew he was on guard, waiting for me to strike. He wasn’t exactly a genius, but at least he was smart enough to understand that he had been seconds away from death since he’d made his presence known.
I held it together only because he had helped me.
He’d informed me—after taking the gun from my head but still unarming me because he’d rightly deduced I’d kill him on sight—that he was ordered to kill me if he found me.
It was clear that they’d thought that I was long gone, leaving Joey with the shitty job because he was likely suspected of being a weak link. I didn’t doubt Stone had seen his real feelings for Daisy and was biding his time to end him. Fuck, he might’ve been counting on me coming back and killing Joey on sight, doing his dirty work for him, ensuring that the blind loyalty his henchmen had for him in the name of ‘family’ remained intact.
Joey had quickly said that he was going against Stone, that he didn’t give a fuck about his orders. He was in love with Daisy. A twist I hadn’t seen coming. I’d been sure she was nothing but a quick fuck to him, and he was a loyal solider of Stone’s, since he was a kid. That’s how Stone made his soldiers, after all. He preyed upon the young men malleable enough to be romanced by the life he promised them. The wealth, the brotherhood, the riches. He got his hooks in them then stole another piece of their humanity with each act of violence he ordered them to commit. He coaxed out a cruelty that was latent in most men.
Joey was softer than the rest, not that I’d paid much attention to him beyond subtly learning him like I had everyone, lest I need to take them down.
Just because he was softer, didn’t mean he was weak. He’d killed on command, he’d never once disobeyed Stone’s orders, viewing him as the father he didn’t have.
But apparently, having your mentor threaten to have your girlfriend killed so he could forcibly marry her sister took the shine off the relationship.
He explained how they’d found me—not from Daisy’s trip there. Thankfully, even Joey didn’t know about that.
Stone was smarter than I’d imagined. He’d been tracking me since the moment I left the city. Or tried to. I’d dropped off the face of the earth because I was good at what I did. They never would’ve found me if not for that day. What might’ve been classed as the best day of my miserable existence. When Piper had been unafraid to expect something more of me, deceiving me by running into that store, knowing my cock was hard, and I couldn’t immediately chase her. I’d been off kilter. Aware of too many male eyes on my woman. Hungry eyes as if they had the right to look at her.
I’d been so clouded by fury I’d used the wrong credit card. Such a pedestrian mistake that could be the difference between Piper’s life and death. My life and death. The card was one issued to one of my aliases, so it should’ve been safe, but it was easier for Stone to track. The one I’d been using for supplies would never have shown up on his radar. Simply grabbing the wrong card was my crime. Evidence of just how dangerous this weakness was. How the simplest error had turned our world to fucking ruins.
Joey explained all of this, and how they’d taken Daisy from him two days prior, after they found me and watched us.
Watched us .
He’d flinched when he said that, eyes averted so I understood just what they’d watched. I’d dig their fucking intestines out, whoever had laid their eyes on my fucking woman.
Joey didn’t give the information to me up front, smart enough to know I’d kill him the second the words left his lips. I could get the location out of him with a few swipes of a knife, but I didn’t have the time for that. Every minute counted when Stone’s men had Piper. Every second once Joey informed me Groves was one of the men tasked with taking her. That sick fuck.
I’d stoked the fire within her, the spark of survival, of fight. She wasn’t one to go down quietly. Fuck, she might’ve been brave—and stupid—enough to refuse Stone only to get raped…
“Our life is like living in Alaska,” Joey interrupted the thought that had me gripping the steering wheel so hard, I was surprised I didn’t pry it off.
I had no fucking clue how our life was anything like living in Alaska, but no way was I going to inquire into his reasoning. Hopefully, he’d shut the fuck up so I could think. Every instinct I had was screaming to run into the motel in case Piper was in there, but I needed to scout the area a little longer, to ensure it wasn’t a trap.
“You know, living in perpetual darkness.”
I wanted to shake my head. I didn’t bother to do that or tell him that was only in specific regions of Alaska, and the darkness wasn’t perpetual, it was seasonal. But there was no point.
He was a fucking idiot.
“That’s what it is,” he murmured. “Not even shadows. True darkness. And I was so accustomed to it that I didn’t realize how dark it was until I saw Daisy.” He paused, a slack-jawed, dumb look on his face. “Until I saw sunshine.”
I didn’t respond to him, which I doubt he expected in the first place. I didn’t speak superfluously or discuss overly romantic shit.
Though his stupid fucking words struck me somewhere vital. That’s what it was. The feeling over my skin that I’d been unable to pinpoint. It was sunshine. After living in darkness for so long.
“We need to go in,” I said, taking out my gun then checking the clip and screwing on the silencer.
I didn’t need to feel right now. We were going into a situation where I needed to be emotionless, cold. I needed to rip apart anyone and everyone keeping me from my woman. I needed to wear the blood of anyone who had touched her.
It was unbelievably easy to find out where Piper was. The proprietor of the motel had informed us that one room had been rented by, “your buddies,” after taking one look at our suits and making a correct assumption.
Joey was adept at picking locks—granted, the motel lock could’ve been picked by a toddler—and I let him, although the fire in me itched to kick the door down.
I didn’t make unnecessary scenes like that. Didn’t let emotion leech through in situations such as this. That was sloppy. That was how mistakes were made.
The door inched open, and my heartbeat slowed. My mind cleared then I entered, ready, desperate to find my woman, unharmed.
But the room was empty.
Well, not entirely.
The bed was mussed. The piece of shit headboard was scratched with marks made by what I assumed were handcuffs.
And the room smelled of her. And of blood. Peaches and old pennies.
A sickening combination.
My throat shrunk to half its size as I tightened my grip on my piece.
Joey didn’t speak, just nodded his head to the closed bathroom door I’d already spotted but had been unable to make my way toward. Frozen. I’d never been frozen with fear in my life. Not even while facing the man who put me on this path to begin with. Who abused my brother and I, had ruined countless other childhoods with his perversion.
Not then, not ever.
Until that moment.
Until I smelled Piper and blood and stared at that closed bathroom door. It was Schrodinger's Cat—a thought experiment that illustrated how a being could be in two states at once, both alive and dead. Fate was linked to a random event that may or may not occur.
Behind that door could be Piper’s brutalized, bloody corpse. Or she could be alive, waiting for me. With fire still burning in her eyes.
If I didn’t open the door, I could continue entertaining the thought that Piper was alive.
If I did open the door, she might’ve been lying dead on the cheap, cracked tile.
Standing there, I observed my greatest nightmare and singular salvation simultaneously.
I knew Joey’s eyes were on me. He was waiting for me to take the lead, and my pause was a sign of weakness. One I couldn’t afford right then.
It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, taking a step toward that door then turning the knob to potentially reveal Piper’s lifeless body.
The coppery smell of blood intensified as I turned the knob and switched on the light to the small room.
My own blood roared through my body as I took in her form, huddled on the floor, motionless, bloodied, beaten.
I paused for a second, just a second to envision the ways in which I would torture those who dared touch what was mine.
All I took was a second, though. Because I saw the gentle, slow rise and fall of her chest, and my heart continued to beat, my world continued to spin, and I had a reason to exist beyond vengeance.
My feet took me to her, and I gathered my world in my arms as tenderly as a savage like me was capable of.
But I was glad. In that moment I was glad for every bit of brutality I’d gained in my life, the skills I’d amassed which would ensure I’d avenge her to the highest possible degree.
Piper
“Petal.”
The voice was gentle.
Impossibly so.
I must’ve been dead, then. Because though I recognized that voice, there was no way the owner of it would be gentle. It wasn’t in his nature.
“Petal.”
There it was again. More of an edge to it that time. I felt a sensation on my body. Light at first then firmer.
My body throbbed as I heard a metallic click followed by instant relief from aching wrists as they were freed from the handcuffs.
Then there was a warm, hard chest. The smell of spice, earth and him.
Knox.
Panic forced me up to the surface from wherever I’d been drowning.
My eyelids were impossibly heavy, so it took every ounce of strength I had to open them.
It was Knox. I was in his arms, the watery-yellow light from the lamp in the bedroom of the motel room illuminating him. He was a shadow against that light, harsh edges etched in fury as his eyes traveled over my face.
I searched his cheekbones, his smooth jaw… No bruises. No blood. Only slightly bloodshot eyes, his inky hair more mussed than usual. He was wearing a suit, open at the throat, showing off the taut protruding veins in his neck.
“You’re alive,” I croaked.
His eyes flared at hearing my voice. “And so are you. You’re going to stay that way,” he ordered. “And every man who did this…” he stroked his finger down my tender face with an impossibly delicate touch. “They’re going to die in the most painful way possible.”
My body chilled at his words, hearing the killer lurking beneath them.
“Turn your fucking back,” he snapped at someone. I was confused as to who he could possibly be speaking to; I was still in a daze from the experience, from preparing to die, wanting to die, thinking Knox was gone yet seeing him there now.
I let him gradually move me to where he reached into a bag on the rumpled bed that assaulted me with memory, shocking me into an immovable state. That was the bed I was almost raped in. That was the bed where Stone had threatened me, where he had informed me triumphantly that Knox was dead.
My limbs turned to stone then began to tremor as if an earthquake were shaking my very foundation.
“Petal.”
His voice was no longer gentle. It was a cold and sharp blade cutting through my haze, the heavy memory of—minutes? Hours?—ago that caused my heart to thunder like a racehorse through the delicate cavern of my chest.
I blinked him into harsh focus. His face was etched in harsh lines, his eyes electric, nostrils flaring, a crease in the center of his brow. A picture of cold fury.
He didn’t say anything, just let me hold onto his form, his face, his scent like a port in a storm. All I could pull in were shallow breaths.
“Hands on my shoulders,” he ordered, his voice a strange mix of tender and brutal that I’d never heard from him.
Confused for a second, I realized what he meant when he knelt at my feet, a bunched-up pair of sweats in his hands—my sweats, I noticed dazedly. I did as he asked, balanced unsteadily on one foot then the other as he threaded my feet into holes like I was a child before pulling the pants up my bare legs.
He did it slowly, his eyes homed in on my inner thighs, where there were small but unmissable fingerprints from Groves trying to hold my legs open.
His hands had stuttered, just for a second, but I’d felt the world tilt as the energy of his body completely changed.
He was robotic as he settled the sweats onto my hips.
Knox thought I’d been raped. He’d found me chained to a sink, beaten and in my underwear, with fingerprints on my thighs. It made sense.
“Knox,” I began, wanting to reassure him that that didn’t happen, since he looked like he was a man unhinged. Beyond anything I’d ever seen.
“Go to the next room,” he ordered the person I totally forgot was in the room, the one who hadn’t uttered a single word during our exchange nor made a single sound. “They’ll be coming back, so I want you to alert me if it’s before I can tend to Piper.”
Though it seemed impossible for me to be able to tear my gaze away from Knox, I had to see who he had trusted enough to bring with him.
I frowned as I took in Joey’s face, pale and serious.
That tore me completely out of my haze.
“Daisy!” I yelled, or I tried to project my voice as loud as possible, cold dread clutching at my windpipe. My voice was scratchy and hoarse.
I watched his jaw harden and fury paint his face. “She’s alive,” he told me quickly. “But they have her.”
“Then you go get her,” I ordered through gritted teeth.
“Petal,” Knox murmured.
My gaze darted to him, my heart skipping a beat again, seeing that he was alive and there. My joy held fast, but it didn’t win in the battle over my concern for my sister. Who was currently completely unprotected. “Don’t Petal me,” I snapped. “You’re here to presumably kill his men—”
“Not presumably,” he interrupted, his words harsh as a lashing.
I recoiled at how … unstable Knox was. Upon first glance, he had seemed placid, in control. But I could feel the fury radiating off him. See the way he held his limbs, the tic in his jaw, hear the feral edge to his tone, no longer smooth like a honed blade but serrated, and sharp enough to do damage, to shred.
“Okay, you’re here to kill them in a horrible, painful way,” I relented, not showing my unease at his raw emotions. “But that means that Stone will eventually get word of that and Daisy...” I sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as the simple motion sent spears of pain through my injured ribs.
Seeing my discomfort, Knox’s hands flexed as he lifted them toward my ribs, curling and unfurling them into fists as he set them there for a second before ever so soothingly pulling up my shirt to expose the mottling of redness.
He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t need to. His wrath was a physical thing, curling around my injuries, featherlight across my skin.
I yanked my shirt down. We didn’t have time for this. I didn’t look at Knox. “You need to go get her,” I repeated to Joey. “Since I’m guessing your presence means you do actually love her and are against Stone using her life as a bargaining chip.”
“Nothing is going to happen to Daisy,” he vowed, suddenly seeming older and more badass than he had during our previous meetings. Him being a badass in front of Knox was akin to a puppy growling in front of a roaring bear, but I got the energy.
He loved her.
That was good.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I ground out, pain making my voice catch. I’d used up a lot of my strength doing so much yelling. “You’re going to get her.”
Knox’s arms tightened around me, despite seeing the pain likely on my face, feeling it in the tension of my body. I knew he needed to feel me, grip onto me like I was his port in the storm.
“Enough, Piper,” he barked, his control fraying. “We’ll take care of Daisy later.”
I gave him a cold look. “No, you’ll send Joey to do it now.”
Knox searched my face. He was the man who knew me better than anyone else, who understood me. And I understood him. He wanted Joey there to presumably look after me while he tortured and killed the men.
He wanted to shield me from whatever he was going to unleash on them for marking me. And he was determined to get his way. He was used to that. No one challenged him. Especially not when rage was simmering in his bloodstream, seeping from him. Not now when he was a paladin with a singular goal: vengeance.
No one, that was, except me.
I watched him battle, his jaw twitching from the force he was exerting to keep himself locked down. I hadn’t looked in the mirror, but I guessed I looked bad.
“Outside,” he roared the command so brutally, it made me jump. Granted, one was bound to be a little jumpy after being kidnapped—for real this time, not whatever Knox had done to me—almost raped, beaten and handcuffed to a sink.
I didn’t look to see if Joey obeyed his command, I couldn’t take my eyes from Knox. I’d truly believed he was dead earlier, so I was afraid he was some kind of mirage. The attachment I felt to this man was nothing short of unhealthy. I didn’t want to breathe air where he didn’t exist. I didn’t want him out of my sight.
I guessed the feeling was mutual.
I heard the door shut, relief racing through me to know Joey had left.
“No one is allowed to mark you but me.” Knox’s voice was low, desperate as he ghosted his hands over every throbbing mark on my face, picking up my hands as if they were made of tissue paper before tracing the red, raw, angry marks from the handcuffs.
“The fact that I left you unprotected so they could do this…” He looked down at my wrists, rage strangling his words.
“This is not your fault,” I told him gently.
His eyes once again roved over the throbbing marks on my face, as if he was concreting them in his memory, for him to revisit when he wanted to engage in emotional self-flagellation.
“Yes, it is,” he scowled. “I left you thinking you were safe without me, but…” He trailed off again, as if he kept losing his train of thought. Very unlike Knox, who calculated and measured every one of his words before he even spoke them.
“I must make them suffer.”
The words were pulled from the very reaches of his insides, sending a cold prickle up my spine.
There had always been the background knowledge that Knox had killed. Not even background knowledge, he’d come right out and said it. Multiple times. I’d never been in the presence of a killer, unless you counted my father, and he hadn’t killed yet. Although he essentially had. He had killed my mother long before her heart stopped beating.
I abhorred violence and violent men because of my childhood and also because violent men were despicable.
Yet I’d fallen in love with Knox knowing that, not even squirming at him openly telling me he killed.
And I was there in front of him, listening to him muse about the ways he might torture those who’d hurt me. Torture . Something I also abhorred, as did most sane people.
Yet my stomach did not turn, my soul did not flinch in front of the cold certainty of what Knox was going to do.
“Making people suffer does not change anything,” I motioned to my hands, to my face, to my body.
To my immense surprise, Knox flinched as I gestured to my bruised torso.
Flinched.
As if looking upon my body hurt him.
When he opened his mouth, I gingerly pressed my fingers to his lips. They were so soft despite all the harsh declarations coming out of them.
“I know that it’s not as easy as that for you.” My gaze never left his. The fury and hunger for violence swirled within his irises, a living thing, separate from the facets of Knox I’d come to know. The Knox who put wildflowers in a vase, who painted me in pastels, who cooked me flavorful feasts, who gave me seeds to grow a garden.
Who seeded something inside of me that grew and bloomed where he’d thought he could only make things wither and die.
“I know that’s an impossible thing to ask you, to not to kill those men—” I continued.
“I will do anything you ask,” Knox interrupted me. “But not that. You will not get in the way of my revenge, Petal.”
I licked my chapped lips, throat suddenly dry as I realized I hadn’t had a sip of water in … how long?
Knox noted this and immediately stopped his menacing, threatening dance to direct me to the small fridge in the room—surprising that it had one—where he found a bottle of water he uncapped then passed to me. He did this while keeping one hand on me at all times, as if he were afraid I was going to fall off the face of the earth if he let me go.
I greedily sipped the water, all the while feeling more and more in love with the caretaking side of Knox coexisting right alongside the cold-blooded murderer.
Once I was done, I looked up at Knox, who was cataloging my bruises. He capped the water bottle then lifted up my shirt once more to regard the swelling on my stomach.
His fingers brushed the skin in a barely-there touch.
“We need to watch for internal bleeding,” he said, his voice chilly. “Might’ve cracked some ribs, though there’s nothing to be done about that except time. And blood.” He glanced up. “No more of yours will be spilled. But don’t ask me to take this without punishment.”
It was as close to a beg as I’d ever get from him.
I stroked his cheek. “Don’t ask me to put your vengeance before my sister’s safety,” I pleaded.
I saw the change in his eyes. Not before the battle, though. This was someone who had previously defined himself by not caring for others, not having a weakness. I was asking for him to show what he perceived as weakness.
It made sense that it would be a battle. I worried he simply wouldn’t be capable of it. Not in the face of the brutality I’d endured. I knew that woke up something primal in him.
After a long pause, he nodded. “I’ll send Joey to get her right away.”
My body sagged.
I leaned up to kiss him on the lips. Gently.
And he kissed me back. Gently.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to kill them with my bare hands.”
Although I thought such a gesture was impossible minutes ago, I smiled against his lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
It was somewhat of a dilemma as to what to do with me once Joey left. Knox didn’t want me anywhere near what he was about to do. But he also didn’t want to let me go.
His hands were on me every moment, moments we knew were scant. I wasn’t sure how long ago my captors had left for dinner, but they were likely due back any moment. We had rented the room next door, situated in there waiting. Knox’s eyes remained firmly on the window that opened to the parking lot, watching for headlights to illuminate the dark room.
He was coiled, tense, had retreated back behind the facade of the killer he wore so well. But he hadn’t retreated completely. He cast concerned glances my way every few seconds.
“Where did you go?” I asked, a question that had been bubbling around in my mind for a while now.
He didn’t look at me, clutching the ragged curtain. “I went to Maine.”
I frowned, thinking about the distance he covered and how it explained why he was gone for so long.
“My brother lives there,” he continued.
His brother. The one other person he said he cared about.
“I went to him for … help.”
His voice was strained, fractured. Mingled with coldness and vulnerability
“Help?” I repeated. I couldn’t fathom Knox asking for help. What a huge battle that must’ve been for him. He would’ve had to abandon all of his pride, the story he told of himself being unbreakable, in order to ask for help.
“I don’t know how to walk this path, Piper,” he said looking back to the window. “I don’t have the parts for it. I—”
He was cut off by the lights that passed then pulled into the parking lot.
My body strained with tension, both of us silent as doors closed. Muffled male voices and laughter sounded as the door next to us locked, opened and closed.
“Stay here,” he demanded, not waiting for me to speak, not looking at me. He just left.
It was quiet. However, he did it. I barely heard anything beyond a small muffling of a shout and a thump.
That was it.
I was wringing my hands, sitting statue-straight on the bed, unable to move, though I longed for a shower to wash off the filth and blood. I used the restroom because the cramp against my stomach felt more to do with nature than man at that point. And on top of the shit sandwich of a situation, I’d gotten my period. Another fun little tidbit about being barren… You got to keep all the horrible things that show you’re fertile except you’re actually not.
I’d gotten a tampon from the bag on the bed, a bag of clothes and toiletries Knox had had the presence of mind to grab from the cabin. He’d not only understood that we wouldn’t be going back there but he’d had hope that he’d find me, and I’d be alive to use the contents of the bag.
I wasn’t sure how long it was supposed to take. Knox had wanted to punish—read, torture—those men for hurting me. How long did that take? Probably longer than an hour.
It had only been a handful of minutes.
That felt like eons.
I worried for Knox, though I didn’t doubt his ability to go up against two men in the state he was in, fuming with a kind of rage that I hadn’t known existed outside the animal kingdom. But I was still aching from thinking he was dead. I didn’t love the idea of him risking his life so readily after so recently coming back to me.
Then again, I reasoned this was only the beginning of Knox risking his life for me. Two men were the appetizer when you considered the behemoth we had in front of us.
I jumped at the sound of a door opening and closing, scuttling back on the bed, ready to fight my way out of this as the predator in black prowled toward me. It took me a couple of seconds to realize it was Knox, not one of Stone’s henchmen.
My eyes cast over him, looking for any injuries, any obvious harm. There was none. His hands were white, pristine, not even a spec of blood that I could see.
“It’s done?” I asked, surprised.
Knox dipped his chin in confirmation.
He then prowled toward me. Though I knew the threat was gone, my heartbeat didn’t steady as I reflexively backed against the wall.
Knox caged me in.
His hands landed on either side of my head, and his body pressed against mine, his face hovering inches away, eyes landing on my bruise for a long moment before making true eye contact.
I winced at the abyss I saw in his gaze. The emptiness quickly retreating but first showing me a glimpse of who he turned into when he was killing.
Killing.
There I was, with a man who was the embodiment of violence, who had presumably just killed two men. Two very bad men to be sure, but he had snuffed out their lives.
Did that change how I felt about him? Did it kill any love inside me?
No.
The answer came within a second of the thought popping up in my mind.
No.
Nothing would ever stop me from loving this damaged, dangerous, deadly man.
“I need…” His tongue ran along his front teeth.
“What?” I asked immediately. “What do you need?”
He shook his head as if he were trying to banish thoughts, images. “This is when I would … clean my blood.”
This was when he’d score his skin with a knife. Purge himself. Hurt himself. As punishment for what he’d done? For who he was to his core?
I didn’t want to shame him for his coping mechanisms, but I greatly wanted to end the act of Knox hurting himself. Adding to an already overabundant collection of scars.
I licked my lips. “Can I offer you another option?”
My pulse thrummed, and warmth crept into my limbs. Need. It seemed impossible for me to have this feeling given the events of the past—however long it had been—but I did. I had a desperate feeling to feel alive. To be full.
Knox’s eyes widened a smidge, the tension in his jaw intensifying at my words.
“Piper,” he warned. “Do not offer something that you are not ready for in order to try to protect me.”
I reached up to cup his jaw. His body was a statue under my hand from the force he was using to keep himself still.
My other hand, rather crudely, went to cup him where he was already rock hard.
Flutters stirred between my legs.
“I offer you everything,” I whispered. “In fact, I demand that you take it. I demand that you take me so you can erase every touch from those who weren’t you.”
He jerked at my words, but he didn’t take a second to ask if I was sure. His mouth plastered to mine, and I hungrily sank into the kiss. Into him.
“They didn’t rape me,” I said, disengaging from the kiss with great effort.
Knox searched my face for a lie then nodded quickly. He didn’t visibly relax, but I swore I saw a wrinkle leave the corner of his eye.
“And, uh, one more thing,” I added before he could kiss me again. “It may make you rethink what we’re about to do.”
He clasped the back of my neck. “Nothing could make me rethink what we’re about to do, if it’s within your consent.”
My body seared with need for him. While in the midst of his animal state, still establishing consent. So hot.
“I’m, I’ve, uh, got my period.” I was irrationally embarrassed about a normal bodily function.
Knox froze then blinked once. “Does it make it uncomfortable for you?” he asked practically.
I shook my head. “Not at all. It’s just … messy.”
Knox showed his teeth in an expression that certainly could not have been described as a smile. “You think I’m scared of a little mess? A little blood?”.
His hands slowly, gently went to the waistband of my sweats, keeping his eyes glued to mine, searching for any kind of negative reaction.
I knew this because for the first time, his touch was hesitant, waiting. I could see that he was holding himself back.
And though I was overcome with yearning for him, I was thankful for the slower pace. My body was ready for Knox, but my mind was not quite there. I was still rattled, my edges frayed, my fight-or-flight response still in place, still recovering. Then there was the physical pain I was feeling. Tamped down somewhat by painkillers Knox had given me before he’d left to … take care of the men.
Sex wasn’t the most sensible thing to do right then. There was a laundry list of other, safer, more practical things to do.
But my soul needed that connection, to feel alive. Encased in Knox.
So though I was tense, I let Knox’s hands venture into my sweats.
“What happens now?” I asked.
We had showered, after we were done. He’d carefully washed my body then catalogued every one of my wounds with a precise eye. Nothing needed any extra care beyond time. He’d cleaned my raw wrists with antiseptic then carefully rubbed cream on them, his fingers shaking as he did so. With rage.
I was wearing my own clothes that still smelled of the simple soap I’d washed them with in the cabin. I swore, I scented the moonlight, the pine trees, the wildflowers. I longed for the place I knew was lost to us. If not forever, for a long time.
Because there was a fight ahead of us.
Knox didn’t answer, just continued brushing my hair, strokes precise, tender.
“What happens to Stone now?” I asked him, unable to stew in the uncertainty anymore. “He isn’t going to just give up.”
“No,” Knox agreed. “As long as he lives, he will hunt you.”
Unease burrowed under my skin at his words. The cold certainty in them.
“So what now?” I probed again. I trusted Knox. With my life. But I couldn’t sit with the proverbial wool pulled over my eyes and just wait for him to take care of things while I sat there wondering about what the future would bring.
“He will die,” Knox said as if it was obvious.
I stared at him. The man who loved me with a darkness that engulfed me wholly. That wrapped around me like a second skin. The man who would and had killed anyone who hurt me. Who walked this earth now with the sole purpose of protecting me.
So yes, of course, he was going to kill the head of an international crime organization to keep me safe.