CHAPTER 4
KNOX
Not heading to work and instead going to the women’s shelter, Safe Home, this morning feels kind of strange. But it also feels good because I know I’m going to help some kids express themselves through art. It feels like an opportunity to pay it forward.
Because without art, without a teacher back in the day taking notice of my interest and talent, I have no idea where I would be right now. Art kept me out of trouble, even though I found plenty of it with friends when I was younger. But that’s part of growing up; at least that’s what I tell myself.
Picking Avery up on the way into the shelter wasn’t an issue.
Hopefully, it means Bridger, her man and the father of the child she’s cooking, won’t call her a million times to check in on her.
It’s not like I don’t understand why he’s anxious about being away from her and her leaving the house.
I’m quite sure if my woman were as pregnant as she is then I’d be the same way.
That doesn’t mean I’m not going to take every opportunity given to me to annoy Bridger and get under his skin. Frankly, it’s too much damn fun and watching him get bent out of shape is amusing to me. He knows it’s all in good fun, anyway.
Everyone who works at Vibrant Ink, the same people who make up the little family we’ve been able to cobble together, is thrilled that Bridger has found happiness. The man used to be insular and quiet. I think most people would call him grumpy or broody, but I never saw him that way.
What I saw was a guy who was afraid to let people get close. It’s not like I didn’t understand it, especially when he would share little crumbs about how he grew up. As much as I wanted to relate to him, to understand his hesitation, it wasn’t easy.
I was lucky to grow up in a household with two parents, who are still married today, and an easy childhood. The biggest problem I came up against was when I wanted to do art instead of playing sports. Dad wasn’t thrilled about it for a while, but my mom was there to run interference for me.
Now, Dad even has a tattoo, one I designed and inked on his skin. I think it was his way of showing me he does accept the path I took and is proud of me for it. It took us a little while to get there, but sometimes that is what is needed in life. Not everything should come easy, right?
Even though I haven’t been able to get Mom in my tattoo chair, I know she’s proud of me. She never expected anything from me beyond being myself. It was my mom who showed me how to keep a smile on my face and to find a reason to laugh and have fun, even when things were hard.
Because that is part of life. Even with my parents together and in love, it’s not like life didn’t take its own shots. Of course it did; everyone gets that treatment at some point.
There were fights. There were a few years there when I thought for sure my sisters and I would get the ‘we’re getting a divorce’ couch sit down any moment. There were times when all I wanted was to get out of the house and to start my own life because family life is hard.
We made it through.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” Avery’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I look over at her and realize we’ve been sitting outside Safe Home for far too long without getting out.
I chuckle under my breath, not surprised that she’s called me out on my shit or read me so well. Avery coming into our lives hasn’t just been good for Bridger, it’s been good for all of us.
Who knows, maybe one day I’ll find the woman meant to be mine.
Since it’s been a few years since Wyatt and Tenley found each other, I didn’t think their love was the start of some domino effect intent on overtaking the shop or anything like that. Well, maybe I was a little bit hopeful about it.
Shouldn’t things have moved fast, more like what happened when Beckett Banks found his wife Amelia over at Banks Ink.? It seemed like every time we talked to someone over there, there was another love match or baby on the way.
“What if the kids are afraid of me?”
The question slips past my lips, the one thing I’ve been worried about since I agreed to teach an art class at Safe Home a few weeks ago.
I jumped at the chance then because it sounded like a lot of fun, but since then fears have started to creep in.
I know I have a damn good sense of humor—and a huge side of humility, clearly—but a kid doesn’t know that. A kid with trauma?
Shit. I don’t want to make anything worse.
Avery’s voice is soft, “It might happen.” I hate it, but I flinch a little bit. She reaches over and puts a hand on my arm. “But you’ll show them they don’t need to be afraid of you. You’ll prove it by your actions.”
After swallowing hard, I nod and force myself to get out of my truck. When I notice Avery reaching for her handle, I tease her, “Hey now, don’t give Bridger a reason to kick my ass.”
Avery huffs out a small laugh and rolls her eyes. “He won’t even know.”
“If you don’t think Bridger will ask, then I need to take you to the hospital,” I tease her.
She giggles and shakes her head like I’m the one who is being silly. I’m not. After closing my door, I power walk around my truck to get to her side. After I help her down, I make sure she’s steady on her feet before I let go.
I can’t help but stare down at her baby belly. It’s huge. Not that I’ve said such a thing out loud. I would never. Nope. Not when I like my balls right where they are.
She clutches her giant cup which I can’t help but eye suspiciously. “Do you think you have enough water?”
Avery scrunches up her face before sticking her tongue out at me. “Maybe. I might have to fill this baby up while I’m here.” She sighs, “Sometimes I’m so thirsty I would swear I’m in the damn Sahara, but then I have to pee a million times. It’s a damned if I do, damned if I don’t situation.”
“Well, let me know if you need anything while we’re here,” I remind her.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll probably be done with my meeting before class is over. If I am, I’ll just hang out with Laura and Wendy and see what else they need help with.”
All I can do is nod as we stop in front of the front door and my nervousness hits me again.
Avery either doesn’t notice or ignores it as she hits the button where there’s a camera and an intercom.
Seeing it makes me feel a little better.
Everyone here should feel safe, and I know the guys of Higgins Security have spared no expense in locking this place down.
“Hi Avery,” a voice comes through the speaker, “I’ll be right there.”
A few moments later the door opens, and a woman sticks her head out, her eyes curious as she looks at me. Avery speaks up, “Good morning, Wendy. This is Knox. He’s here to teach the art class for the kids.”
Wendy’s face lights up as her eyes rake over me. I know what she sees. I’m muscular, but I definitely have more of a dad bod going, especially in the middle. I also have quite a few of my tattoos on display right now. The longer she looks me over, the more appreciation I see on her face.
She’s an attractive woman, I’ll admit, but she doesn’t really do anything for me. The smile I give her is polite as she steps back and allows us enough room to step inside. I glance around and take in the large home which has been redone to house the shelter.
Since Avery started working with them and helping the women who come through with their legal issues for free, using her knowledge and education in a way that suits her, the work they do here has intrigued me.
Helping women get out of an abusive situation is only the start of the work Safe Home does.
Once out, they help women find a way forward and help them heal.
I’m grateful to get the opportunity to help, even if only a little bit.
“I’ve seen a few kids make their way into the room where the class will be,” Wendy tells me. “All the supplies we have, including the ones you sent ahead, are in there and waiting for you.”
“Great,” my voice comes out steady even though my heart is pounding in my chest.
Avery gives my arm a squeeze and I shoot her a smile which I can only hope is filled with more confidence than I feel.
Then I’m following Wendy who looks back at me over her shoulder, her lips tilting into something flirtatious.
Her interest in me isn’t something I can even begin to think about right now.
“The kids are so excited about the class. There will be a range of ages and skill,” she informs me.
“That’s good. I’ll keep the assignments simple, but everyone can approach them from their skill level.”
“Perfect,” Wendy purrs as we reach a door.
I can already hear the sound of excited kids on the other side. Even though it’s clear Wendy wants me, which is not arrogance talking, she doesn’t make a move. I’m grateful as hell for it because I’m too fucking nervous to deal with her right now.
When she opens the door and steps inside, the room goes quiet. Not just quiet; it goes silent. I look around to find the kids frozen in their spots. With their various ages, the one thing these kids have in common right now are the wide eyes taking up their faces as they look at me.
The pastel sets I had delivered along with sketchpads are already laid out on the tables in the room.
Even though I’m nervous, especially with the six kids in the room looking at me like they’re not sure whether to run away screaming or dive under their tables, knowing this is all about art helps me a little.
Not much, but a little.
I curl my shoulders inward, hoping to make myself a little smaller even though I know it probably won’t help. But I can try. The thought of these kids being scared of me feels like a knife to the gut.
When I make it to the table which has clearly been set up as the front of the room, I sit down. The little shoulders around me relax slightly. It’s not all the way, but it’s enough for now.