21. Knox #2
“A few months after he was sentenced, I put in the paperwork.” I make myself keep going, even though every part of me wants to keep this buried.
“I wasn’t planning some noble visit, Sawyer.
I wanted to go sit across from him and unload everything.
Tell him what a waste of life he was. What he took from me.
From you too. I was going to tell him things that would rub salt in his wounds.
” I exhale, slowly. “I never went. I got approved and then I just…couldn’t do it.
I didn’t have it in me to be that cruel to someone who was already suffering. ”
Sawyer blinks, opens her mouth to speak but closes it almost immediately.
“Say something…please.”
“I guess I’m shocked is all.” Then she shrugs. “I can’t blame you, though. I haven’t gone there because I was afraid I’d do the same thing.”
“You?” I search her face, trying to reconcile the girl in front of me with someone capable of that kind of cruelty. “I don’t buy that for a second.”
“You’d be surprised. There was a stretch, right after the sentencing, where I hated him so much I could barely breathe.
I used to lie awake writing speeches in my head.
All the ways I’d make him understand what he did to us.
To his employees. To Mom. To me.” She shakes her head, like she’s trying to deny the memory.
“I never let any of it out of my head. Not really. I guess I chose a quieter form of resentment when it came to my father.”
“We really are more alike than either of us ever wanted to admit.”
“Apparently.” She lets out a breath that’s close to a laugh. “I’m surprised you didn’t go, though. Maybe if you’d have told my father off, it would have spared me from all your asshole ways.”
“Careful.” I tug her closer ignoring the ache in my ribs, and press a kiss to the top of her head. “You love my asshole ways.”
“Psst, no, not even close.”
She gets out of bed, stretches her arms, and sighs. “So we’ll go together, then. Check the visiting hours while I pack up.”
I already know them, because I’ve stared at that website more times than I’ll ever admit. “It’s weekends, mostly. There’s a slot tomorrow morning. 9 AM.”
Tomorrow. Same day I told Tyler I’d try to make the memorial…which I have zero intention of actually doing, but it buys me a good excuse if anyone asks where I’ve been. Otisville, then some time to do what we can with the information we receive.
“You already knew that?” Sawyer asks as she pulls out her suitcase from the closet.
“I checked while you were asleep.” That along with directions there. I’ll have to figure out the whole smuggling Sawyer out of Miriam’s house and not getting followed thing, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.
“Okay. I guess we’re going to see my dad.” Hands on her hips, she surveys the contents of her closet. “God, I hope my mom doesn’t find out. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Sawyer’s phone rings. She grabs it off the bed and laughs. “Speak of the devil. It’s her.”
“That’s fucking weird. Are you going to answer?”
“Hard pass,” she says, tossing it back on the bed. “She can leave a voicemail.”
Something churns in my gut as I watch the phone ring over and over. It’s probably from the prospect of seeing David tomorrow. Of everything we need to overcome, not only so I can get out of this engagement, but to keep Sawyer and myself safe.
It’s an uphill battle and we’re starting at the very bottom. Just the two of us against a massive force like Moretti, plus all the resources my father’s collected over the years.
If he finds out about me visiting Thorne, he’ll kill me himself. He can fucking try, I’m done with his bullshit.
The whole thing is almost laughable. That David fucking Thorne may be the one to get me my life back. It’s wild, plain and simple.
Sawyer’s phone beeps and the new voicemail alert pops up. She grabs it, inhales deeply, and hits play with the phone on speaker.
“Sawyer? Honey, are you okay? Richard just called me looking for Knox.” Helen sniffs and that churning sensation returns. “It’s Victoria. Something’s happened. Just call me back.”
I stare at the phone in Sawyer’s hand long after Helen’s voice cuts out, my mother’s name ringing in my ears.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to grab my keys and drive, consequences be damned.
That’s the pattern I’ve lived by for years.
Victoria in trouble, Knox drops everything, Knox fixes it, Knox pays for it later in ways nobody ever sees.
I’ve spent my whole life being the emergency contact, the fixer, for a family that never once returned the favor.
“Knox?” Sawyer’s watching me, phone still in her hand. “Talk to me. What do you want to do?”
I hear her, but she sounds distant.
Something happened. That could mean so many different things. I close my eyes and see the pills scattered on the floor. See her dark eyes rolling back in her head.
Sawyer’s touch pulls me back. “I’m calling the hospital.”
I nod, unable to form actual words that make any sense.
Sawyer taps away on her phone, hits the speaker button, and holds it between us.
I get up and pace the length of the bed, so fucking grateful that she’s here right now to help.
She must be asking the same questions. Is this even real?
Is it my father’s way of roping me back in?
Moretti setting a trap? They know I’ll do anything for my mother.
Fucking hell.
It rings a few times before a cheerful sounding woman answers. “Ashford Community, emergency room.”
“Hi, I’m calling to check on a patient. Victoria Aldrich. I’m calling on behalf of her son, Knox.”
Keys click on the other end. “Are you family?”
Sawyer glances at me, and I finally find my voice. “Son. That’s me.”
“I can confirm she was brought in tonight and is currently listed in stable condition. I’m sorry, I can’t release more than that over the phone without you being here in person.”
She’s stable. I finally breathe.
“That’s all we need. Thank you.” Sawyer ends the call and sets the phone down, watching me carefully. “She’s okay, Knox. Stable. Whatever happened, she’ll be okay.”
“She’s okay,” I repeat, trying to get the word to sink in. “Stable.”
Sawyer moves closer, slowly like she’s approaching a wounded animal. I pull her in, my pulse calming even more. She rubs my back while I resist the instinct to get up and rush over there. To be the person I’ve always been, the one who handles whatever mess my family lands in.
“You should sit with this for a beat,” she says finally. “Before you decide anything.”
“I already know what I want to do.” As I speak, each word solidifies my answer. “I’m not going.”
Her brows lift. “You’re sure?”
“I know how it’ll go. She’s stable. If I go running over there right now, my father will meet me in that hallway, play the concerned husband in front of the nurses, and somehow by morning, I’ll be back under this thumb and agreeing to something I swore I wouldn’t agree to anymore.
That’s how it's gone every single time before.”
“I understand,” she says. “I know how hard this must be.”
“It kills me.” I close my eyes for a moment, picturing my mother in a hospital bed, and feel nauseated.
Sawyer takes my hand and squeezes, bringing me back.
“The not knowing is the worst. But Sawyer, we need to stay the course. Every time something happens to her, I drop everything and fix it, and nothing actually gets better. She’s still abusing meds.
He’s still drinking too much and controlling every part of both our lives.
If I keep putting out fires instead of finding out who’s setting them, none of this ever ends. ”
“You really think Otisville matters more than being there for her? I don’t want you to regret it.”
“I think it’s the only thing that actually changes anything for her long-term.
If David knows what I think he knows, we end this.
All of it. My father, Moretti, the wedding, the lies.
That protects her more than me sitting in a hospital chair while my father tries to rope me into more of his games. ”
“Okay.”
I send off a text to my mother, hoping that she’ll see it at some point, even if it’s after she’s released. She’ll know I’m thinking of her, that I’m aware. I’m sure she’ll be upset with me, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.
While Sawyer finishes getting ready, I check the parking lot and grounds around her apartment. Some asshole could jump me again, but somehow I think they’re being more conservative with Sawyer around. It’s when I’m alone that I’m in the most danger.
Biting back the pain, I grab her bags, as much as she tries to fight me on it, and walk her to the Jeep. She smirks when she sees her handiwork. “Haven’t gotten around to fixing the dents.”
“I kind of don’t want you to.”
I shake my head. “There she is.”
We’re a few minutes into the drive, her suitcases wedged in my backseat and both of us watching the mirrors more than the road ahead, barely speaking from the anxiety.
Sawyer runs her fingers up my arm, and I glance her way. “You know, I just realized something.”
“Yeah?”
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you choose something for yourself instead of choosing whatever keeps the peace with your family. Even though it hurts, and even though you knew going to the hospital would be the easier choice.”
I drive, hands tight on the wheel, considering it. She might be right, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
“Feels different. Unnatural, I guess, to not fill the role I always have.”
“Good different?”
I huff a laugh. “Ask me tomorrow.”
“Well, I’m proud of you, Aldrich. Breaking cycles and shit.” She turns up the music, a small smile on her face. “Keep it up.”
That’s the plan.