Chapter 20 Monroe
MONROE
I was frustrated with Knox. How the hell could he just go back to a life like that?
It was what put him in jail in the first place.
Did he not give a shit about that? It was like a petulant toddler that put his hand on a hot surface and kept doing it.
What the fuck was he getting out of this?
Why would he want to continue living a life like that when he was given a second chance?
I had put my reputation on the line for him.
Fought with my new bosses’ time and time again to get him out of that place.
I had to do things I was nowhere near proud of doing in order to get the information I needed to set him free.
Most lawyers would’ve helped cut him a deal and let him rot in prison.
But not me. That wasn’t acceptable to me and I made it known.
And this was what he went and did? After fucking me against his damn wall?
It made me angry. Angrier than I’d been in long time.
But as angry as I was at him for being involved with his club still, I couldn’t stay mad at him.
Every time I allowed my mind to wander and every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.
I saw his bruised and battered body lying in that hospital bed and I woke up with this fear in my chest. This panic that took forever to subside.
As much as I hated the life he lived, I felt a connection with him.
What type of connection, I wasn’t sure. But I couldn't get him out of my mind.
He was in my dreams and in my thoughts. There were moments that happened and voices I heard that made me think he was around the corner.
There were points in my days where things happened and I wanted to call him and tell him about him.
Why?
Why did I want to fill him in on these things?
I sat in my office staring at his file. I scanned through the information on him, taking it all in.
His height. His weight. His stature and his pictures.
Those brown eyes and long, luxurious brown hair that had felt so soft between my fingers.
I stared at the home address he had on file and scanned my eyes over the telephone number he’d given to us.
Was that really his number?
If I called it, would he pick up on the other end?
I closed the file and tried to get back to work.
I had a few clients throughout the day. People who needed help with worker’s compensation claims and people who needed a lawyer for one too many traffic tickets.
I had a couple of single mothers that wandered into my office, looking for a lawyer to have pity on them.
I took one of the cases pro-bono and sent the other across the hall to Rose.
I couldn’t be certain, but I got the sneaking suspicion she was lying to me about something.
I sank myself into work and tried to get Knox off my mind.
But it was hard to do. His file kept taunting me from the filing cabinet.
Calling to me in a whisper that sounded eerily like his voice in my ear.
If I chanced to close my eyes and take a breath, I could feel his lips on my neck.
I could feel his body still pressing into mine.
Fuck. I’d crossed a line with a client I was struggling to come back from.
I knew I needed to forget him. I needed to toss him out of my mind and not think about him until The Dead Souls needed us again.
I needed to heed Rose’s advice and keep my damn personal emotions to myself.
I couldn't get emotionally attached to every client we had. If I did, their personal stories and their own heartaches would sink me. It would drain me of all the energy I had and I would be unable to perform the job I’d chosen as my lifetime career.
But it wasn’t simply emotional with Knox.
At least, it didn’t feel like it.
Heaving a heavy sigh, I stood up from my desk. I ripped open my filing cabinet and thumbed through the files. I got to the one that had Knox’s name on it and ripped it from the masses, then flipped it open to find his number.
I committed it to memory before I turned the light off in my office.
Picking up my cell phone, I dialed his number.
I sat on a chair in the corner of the room, keeping my voice down so Rose couldn’t hear me.
The phone rang and rang on the other end, and for a moment I thought it was a dummy number.
A burner phone or something that would endlessly ring until I finally decided to give up.
Until someone picked up on the other line.
“Hello?”
That voice. That low, rumbling, rib-shaking voice. I closed my eyes and bit back a sigh, relishing how it felt wafting over my ears.
“Hello?”
“Knox?”
“Monroe? Is that you?”
“Hey there,” I said. “I wasn’t sure if you were the one who was going to pick up.”
“How did you get this number?” he asked.
“Your file,” I said.
“Using your powers for evil. I can get behind that.”
“Thought you might be impressed,” I said with a grin. “How are you?”
“Doing good. Still healing up, but most of the pain’s gone. You?”
“I’m… okay.”
“That wasn’t very convincing. You all right?”
“I was wondering if we could get together and talk,” I said.
“You wanna talk.”
“Yes. Without the yelling, preferably.”
“About that-”
“No, just… tell me you’ll meet me somewhere,” I said.
“Depends on when you were thinking,” he said.
“When are you free? I can work around it,” I said.
“I’m full up today. Won’t get back to my place ‘til almost seven.”
“Not gonna lie, going to your place doesn’t sound like the most appealing thing right now,” I said.
“I got my bike. I can meet you wherever you want.”
“I have yet to see this bike of yours,” I said.
“Let me come over and you can see it.”
“To my place?” I asked.
“You got one of those, right?”
“Yes, I have a place. Asshole.”
“Screamer.”
“Somehow, I think that’s not really an insult,” I said.
“Never said it was, beautiful.”
I shivered at his voice as I curled my arms around my chest.
“Is this your cell phone?” I asked.
“It is. Though don’t go handing it out to anyone,” Knox said.
“If I text you my address, would you like to come by and talk tonight?” I asked.
“Gimme a time and I’ll be there,” he said.
“Great. I’ll text it to you later. Say, around eight? Do you want me to pick you up something to drink?”
“I’m good. I can bring a beer or two from my place if I need to.”
“It’s just I’m a wine drinker. Not really a beer girl, so I don’t have any at my place,” I said.
“Then I’ll bring some with me. Don’t worry. I don’t expect everyone to drink what I drink.”
I felt a soft smile spread across my cheeks.
“Well, I’ll see you tonight then.”
“See ya tonight. Get me that address. I’ll see you around eight.”
“See you then,” I said. “And Knox?”
“Yep?”
“Thanks for picking up.”
“I almost didn’t. I don’t usually pick up numbers I don’t recognize,” he said.
“Then why did you pick up this one?” I asked.
There was a beat of silence before I heard him draw in a deep breath.
“Because I was hoping it was you,” he said.
His words left me breathless as blood rushed hotly through my veins.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I said breathlessly.
“See ya then, Monroe.”