Chapter 13 Lottie #2
“You’re Walter’s boy? I’m so glad he finally brought you around.
He talks about you all the time. Where is he?
I haven’t spoken to him in a few weeks. Started to get worried he’d finally gotten the balls to take that trip to Scotland and forgot all about us.
He kept saying he hated it here, but stayed because he wanted to be close to you, so. ” Erwin shrugs.
As if in slow motion, Knox’s chest deflates and his face falls, paling under the fluorescent lights of the hotel ballroom. All I can see is him as the shoe I was expecting to drop for the past week and a half finally does with a loud, metaphorical clunk.
“Wait. You said was. Is he done doing restorations, then? Because I had this one book I was hoping he could help me with and…” I barely hear Erwin’s voice as he rambles on—I’m too focused on Knox. Because this is it. This is the moment he realizes his father is really gone.
He wobbles, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t taken a breath in a while.
Not able to stand it any longer, I reach for him. I run my hand down his leather-clad arm, searching for his hand, winding my fingers through his before squeezing tight.
Ice-blue eyes search for mine, panic written all over Knox’s face.
I’m here, I try to tell him. You’re not alone. I’m here.
A wave of relief crashes over me as I feel his hand squeeze mine back, his face twisted with a combination of pain and gratitude. His stance relaxes just a bit, his eyes soften infinitesimally. Still, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I need to get him out of here now.
“…reached out to him, but he hasn’t gotten back to me.”
Eyes still on me, I turn to Erwin. “Would you mind giving us a second? We’ll be right back.”
As if finally realizing something is wrong, Erwin nods, expression filled with concern.
“I’ll be here.”
Knox and I find a seating area in the back of the convention where we decide to park for a bit.
He leans back into his chair, eyes distant, staring off into space in complete silence.
“Hey.” I scoot my chair closer, wrapping both his hands in mine. “I’m right here. You want to talk about it?”
It takes a second for him to reply. He swallows once, twice, then takes another breath. “I didn’t know,” he murmurs.
“Know what?” I press, voice soft.
“Didn’t know he cared.”
I tighten my grip around his hands, a sharp stab in my gut. “Of course he cared, Knox. He was your father. And though he made a ton of mistakes, I know deep down he wasn’t a bad man.”
“The things he said and did, though—”
“Were probably horrible. Horrible words and actions from a stubborn man who was worried for you and didn’t know how to handle things. I’m not going to excuse his behavior, especially since I don’t know the details of your falling out, but… It’s clear he still cared about you. And a lot.”
He can’t deny it now. “He still gave a shit.” His voice is full of a combination of wonder and regret.
“Of course he did. How could he not?”
He inhales sharply, pulling his hands free from mine, burying his face in them.
“God.” I feel the pain in his voice and wish more than anything I could share it with him, take some of it off his shoulders.
It breaks my heart to see him like this, because I know this is seismic, shaking him to his core.
“All this time, all these years… I thought he didn’t give a shit.
And it made it so much easier to hate him.
But he kept tabs on me? What else don’t I know?
” His voice breaks, muffled by his hands, and I can’t take it anymore.
I kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away from his face only to stare into his red, teary eyes. “Don’t. I’m so embarrassed.” He sniffs, looking away.
“For what?”
“For breaking down like this. Jesus.” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, still unable to meet my gaze, but there’s no way I’m leaving him.
Slowly, I reach up to cup his face, expecting him to push me away. He looks back at me, face contorted, but leans into my touch.
“Hey,” I whisper, relief flooding me as he holds my hand to his cheek. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Honestly, I was starting to doubt whether you were even human at this point.”
His lips twitch. “Because of my otherworldly good looks?” he jokes, sniffling.
I smirk and drop my hand, but he takes it back into both of his. “Glad to see you feel a little better,” I tell him. “But no, it was because you seemed to act like your father’s death didn’t bother you one bit. Like you didn’t care at all.”
“I care,” he whispers, unshed tears shining over his ice-blue eyes.
“Of course you do, Knox. And that’s more than okay.”
“I don’t know if I can go back there, Lottie.” He exhales, looking over his shoulder at the rows of vendors while running his fingers through his hair.
“I know it’ll be hard. But it could give you the opportunity to find out more about your dad. Plus, I’m going to need help with negotiations.”
Knox looks back at me with a raised brow. “You know you don’t need my help for shit.”
Laughing, I get to my feet, extending my hand to pull him up. “Oh, I know that. But at least you’ll be something nice to look at.”
With a smirk, he takes my hand and gets to his feet.
I start to walk away, but he uses his grip on my hand to pull me back.
Gone is any trace of humor—only Serious Knox remains.
And, god, can Serious Knox give good smolder.
“Thank you, Lottie,” he whispers, his free hand pushing my curtain bangs from my hair. “Really.”
My chest tightens as it adjusts to the ten sizes my heart grew in the last five minutes. He stares down at me with those blue eyes of his—the ones that remind me of a winter chill. But I’m warm all over.
“No problem,” I murmur, unable to look away.
He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach drops, because it’s right then that I realize how fantastically screwed I am.