Chapter Nine
Eli
I sleep in until almost noon.
Which is saying something, considering I’m usually awake before the roosters so I can catch my ride to work.
I don’t remember much from when we got here last night. Everything between the hospital and falling into Skip’s bed is just… fog. So I take my time wandering around, trying not to snoop but absolutely snooping. It’s strange being in his house.
Skip warned me he wouldn’t be here when I woke, but I still feel like an intruder wearing someone else’s life for a moment.
A knock snaps me out of my thoughts, and I hurry to the door, swinging it open.
Knuckles glares like I’ve just committed a cardinal sin.
“Skip would have a fit if he knew you didn’t check before opening the door. Never answer a door without looking first, Eli.”
“But we’re inside the compound,” I remind him. “Isn’t it…you know… safe here?”
Knuckles drags a hand down his face.
“You’re safe here,” he says firmly. “But there’s shit going down you don’t know about. And I’m not saying it will happen, but there’s always a chance an enemy gets past defenses.”
I blink. “You guys have enemies?”
“Everyone does,” he mutters. “Now, you gonna invite me in or not?”
“Oh, sorry.” I step aside quickly. “Um. Skip isn’t here.”
“Not here for him.” He jerks his chin. “Kitchen. Let’s go.”
I close the door and follow him, my heartbeat doing a stupid stutter-step the entire way.
Knuckles may not hate me anymore, but he still carries this presence that makes me feel like a kid caught sneaking cookies.
He sits at the kitchen table like he owns the place.
I hover like a confused ghost.
“Sit,” he says.
I sit immediately.
He narrows his eyes. “You always listen that fast?”
I shrug, feeling my cheeks warm. “Just when I’m nervous. Never was much of a man. My dad always called me a coward.”
Knuckles goes still.
“Well,” he says slowly, voice low enough to make my ribs tighten, “your dad sounds like a real piece of shit.”
My ears burn. “He wasn’t… I mean, he just thought I needed to toughen up.”
Both of my parents died a few years back from the outbreak that hit the world. They had me late in life, and when they passed away…I had no one. No friends. No family.
Knuckles leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah. That’s what assholes say right before ruining their kids.”
I swallow.
He gestures at me with one hand. “You open the door without checking because you trust people. That’s not cowardice. That’s innocence.” He raises a brow. “You follow orders quick because you don’t like conflict. That’s not weakness. That’s awareness.”
His eyes lock on mine, sharp enough to pin me to the chair.
“And nervous don’t mean coward. Nervous means you got something to lose.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
Knuckles sighs like I’m exhausting him. “Look. You ain’t a coward. You’re overwhelmed. And tired. And you’ve been alone long enough to think that’s your fault.”
My throat tightens.
“Skip didn’t bring a coward into his house,” Knuckles says, voice going gentler. Well, gentle for him, which still sounds like gravel wrapped in sandpaper. “He brought someone he wants to keep alive.”
I blink fast, trying not to cry like an idiot.
Knuckles points at the counter. “Now get up. You’re pale as shit. You need water. And food. And probably ten more hours of sleep.”
I stand so fast I nearly knock the chair over.
He grunts. “See? Quick listener. Useful. Not cowardly.”
And for the first time since I’ve met him, he actually smiles.
“Sit back down, Eli,” he says, shaking his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something, and then I’ll feed you.”
“I can feed myself,” I say, easing back into the chair.
“I’m sure you can,” he replies. “But I’ve been left in charge until the men get back.
Last thing I need is for Skip to kill me before my time if I don’t make sure you’re taken care of.
Besides, in about ten minutes, this house is gonna be flooded with women and children who consider themselves the welcoming committee. So I need to get this done now.”
Okay… that’s a lot to unpack.
“Before your time?” I ask carefully.
“Listen.” He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes dropping before he forces them back up to mine. “I know I was a dick when we first met. I was going through some shit… still am…but that’s no excuse to take it out on you.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. “Uh…it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s not fine, Eli.” His glare is sharp, but not at me…at himself. “I was a prick. Not just to you. To everyone.”
I open my mouth, but he raises his hand, and I snap it shut.
“Just let me get this out without you interrupting,” he says, voice near begging.
I nod.
“I have a cough,” he starts, and I nod again. I’ve heard it. My dad used to call it a smoker’s cough. Which makes sense since I’ve seen Knuckles with a cigarette a few times. The man wheezes so hard sometimes he has to stop working at the garage just to drink water or catch his breath.
“After coughing for months, I finally dragged myself to get checked out about a year ago,” he says. “Found out I’m stage four lung cancer.”
My breath catches.
Cancer.
“Docs don’t reckon I have long left,” he continues. “Few months now. Probably less. I was pissed. How the hell could I have cancer? I don’t smoke. I take care of my body. I was happy with my life…minus the cough. Didn’t tell anyone. Figured I’d fight it alone till the end.”
His voice tightens.
“But anger festers. I’d look around and see everybody living their lives, no idea when they’re gonna go.
None of them know there’s a ticking time bomb in all of us.
But I knew. Mine was loud as hell. Every time I saw someone complain…
someone wasting time… someone being lazy…
I’d get pissed. Why were they wasting time they didn’t know they had, when I was running out of mine? ”
He swallows hard.
“It wasn’t until I stepped back and saw the way I treated you that I realized I was becoming someone I fucking despised. I saw my brothers pushing me away. Skip kicking my ass was the knock on the head I needed.”
He huffs a humorless laugh.
“A few days ago, I finally told them what I’ve been going through. Told them that in two, maybe three months… I’ll be dead.”
The kitchen feels too small. Too quiet.
“None of that excuses how I treated you,” he says. “I regret that more than you’ll ever know. And now that I know about your condition… what can happen when you overdo it… I feel like an even bigger asshole.”
“You didn’t know,” I whisper.
“And you didn’t know about me,” he whispers back.
“Do you have any family?” I ask.
“Just the Shadows,” he answers simply.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Me either.”
Silence wraps around us, heavy but… not uncomfortable. Understanding settles in.
“I forgive you,” I say quietly. “Do you think… maybe we could be friends?”
Knuckles pushes back his chair and stands, palms braced on the table for a moment before he looks at me.
“No,” he says.
My chest sinks a little.
Then he steps around the table, stops right in front of me, and his voice softens in a way I’ve never heard from him.
“No… but I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna be family. And that’s a hell of a lot better than friends.”
I blink. “Family? Why would you—?”
But he doesn’t explain. He just hauls me up and pulls me into a hug.
A real one full of warmth.
Not bone-crushing, not awkward…just… solid.
I’m too stunned to do anything but stand there and hug him back.
Family? Me? Him? I don’t understand.
Footsteps hit the doorway.
“Knuckles.”
We both look up.
Skip is standing there, arms crossed, expression sharp but not angry.
“You’ve got five seconds,” he says, voice calm but laced with warning, “to finish that hug and remove your arms from Eli before I lose my fucking mind, brother.”
Knuckles smirks and squeezes me a little tighter, whispering, “Told you he’d kill me before my time.”
Then he lets go.
I stumble a step back, confused out of my entire soul.
“I…Skip? Why would you…? I don’t… what’s happening?”
Skip walks toward me, gaze still pinned to Knuckles.
“Nothing you need to worry about, baby.”
Knuckles snorts. “Possessive bastard.”
“Damn right,” Skip shoots back. “Now move your ass away from him.”
Knuckles throws up both hands, grinning as he backs away. “Yeah, yeah, I know where I’m not wanted.”
I stare between them, completely lost.
Family?
Possessive?
Five-second hug limits?
I have no idea what universe I’ve landed in…but apparently I’m part of it now.
Skip doesn’t wait for Knuckles to leave the kitchen before he reaches out, hooks a hand around the back of my neck, and pulls me straight into his chest.
“How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” he murmurs against my hair.
My mouth opens… nothing comes out.
I’m still confused.
But my body doesn’t give a single care about logic…it just melts right into him.
Like I was carved to fit in that exact place. Which is crazy when you think about his hard body and my very soft one.
Skip’s arms wrap around me fully, warm and strong and mentally calming in a way Knuckles’ hug wasn’t.
Knuckles’ hug felt like support. Like comfort. Like someone steadying a friend.
Skip’s feels like gravity. Like safety. Like somehow the entire world goes quiet in his arms.
My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt without me meaning to.
“I… I’m okay,” I manage. “Just… tired.”
Skip exhales slowly.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “But, I’ll explain why when we all gather in the war room in a few hours.”
What’s the war room?
Knuckles clears his throat. “Uh… incoming.”
I pull back just enough to look through the kitchen doorway to where Knuckles stands at the front door.
Four women, a toddler, and a little girl who can’t be older than six all pour into the house like a cheerful ambush.
One of the women is holding something wrapped in foil.
One has a diaper bag.
The little girl has construction paper.
The toddler is dragging a stuffed dinosaur that’s seen better days.
They all speak at once.
“There he is!”