23. Knox #3
“Before any of it.” She exhales slowly. “After my dad…after the scandal…that was bad but it was kind of contained. It was our mess. Like a dirty little secret that was only spoken about in whispers. This is...” She gestures vaguely at the space around her.
“Public property now. Everyone has an opinion about my grief. Everyone wants a piece of it for something. The lawyers, the reporters, my coworkers, my aunt Linda who I haven’t spoken to in years called me twice this week out of nowhere.
” She shakes her head. “It was never this bad before. At least when everyone hated us, they left us alone.”
I understand exactly what she’s describing.
My father and our lawyers might be handling the aftermath of the accident behind the scenes, outside of the public eye, but I remember what it’s like to be living in a fishbowl with everyone wanting to peek inside.
Strangers wanting to glimpse a family’s collapse for their own entertainment just so they have a story to gossip about in the club’s locker room the following day.
I had those pitying looks, the tears, the rage on our behalf. Hell, I’m sure I’d notice them now if I gave a shit about other people enough to pay attention.
All of that gets pushed down deep. It’s not what she needs right now. Instead I say, “The lawyers won’t stop, and honestly, you should find one you like. Someone to run interference, deal with any bullshit that comes up…even if you don’t file.”
“Are you going to file?” she asks.
I sigh, because it’s complicated. “Even if I didn’t want to, our lawyers were on it before I was released from the hospital.”
She nods slowly, turning her glass in her hands. “Richard’s idea?”
“Richard’s lawyers. Same thing.” I pause. “He’s very motivated when there’s money involved.”
“And you?”
I look at her. “I want accountability. There were eight people on that ride who aren’t here anymore. It’s not about money. They deserve to pay for what they caused.”
Wonder World needs to be shut down, so no one else suffers this way.
She stares at the ice cube floating in her glass, hiding her true expression like she’s done for years. My own fault for being such a piece of shit to her. When she looks up at me, she’s wearing that mask again, smooth and neutral. “I’ll think about the lawyer thing.”
“Good.”
We sit in the quiet, my hand itching to rest on her thigh. It feels more comfortable than it should with how fucked things are between us. I’ll take it though.
“Looks like your admirers found something else to do,” I say, tilting my chin toward the pair making their way to the pool table in the back.
She reaches over and steals a sip of my beer without asking.
Little thief. The move is so familiar, though, I can’t help but smirk.
She always stole my beers when she was fifteen or sixteen at whatever family function we were all pretending to enjoy.
With her, it’s always been like this…like no time has passed, even though it may as well be a lifetime.
“I told you I didn’t need a big strong man to babysit me.”
I swipe my beer back, feeling sparks where our fingers touch. “All I’m hearing is that you think I’m big and strong.”
“No—I didn’t—”
“Too late. You think I’m hot and now you can’t take it back.” She narrows her eyes, probably thinking of all the comebacks to bruise my ego. I don’t let her. “And I know you’re relieved I’m here. So, you’re welcome.”
“I’m not relieved. Quite the opposite.”
“You look relieved. See that aggravated scowl?” I brush my fingertip along the edge of her lips. “Relief, if I ever saw it.”
She sighs hard. “This is a scowl of exasperation.”
“It’s relief and you’re welcome.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s something softer underneath it now than there was when I first got here. The vodka cranberries probably helped. Hopefully this—whatever we’re doing—helped too.
She checks her phone, and her shoulders sag slightly. It’s like she’s going back to default mode, after a few precious minutes of vulnerability. “I should go. I have an early shift.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“I don’t need—”
“The fuck you don’t.” I ignore her annoyed sigh and put cash on the bar before she can reach for hers. “I’m parked right next to you anyway.”
I walk right behind her, my favorite spot. Her hair sways, sending a hint of strawberry shampoo my way. When we get outside, she wraps her arms around herself and it takes everything in me not to pull the shirt off my back and wrap her in it.
When she stops at her car, she turns to face me, and in the dim light she almost looks like the Sawyer I grew up with. Hopeful but held back.
“This was weird,” she says. “Us, hanging out.”
She’s not wrong. This isn’t something we’ve done in a long time. My own damn stubborn fault.
“I guess.”
“We shouldn’t make a habit of it.”
I hold her gaze. “Probably not.”
“You have Ella, and I—”
“There’s a lot you don’t understand. It’s not like that.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “Whatever you say.”
She starts her car, and I step back, thinking she’d very well run over my foot. But instead, she rolls down the window. For a beat, my pulse picks up. Will she ask me to come over? To give in? Deliver on exactly what I promised the other day?
“Goodnight, Knox.”
Nope.
“Get home safe.”
Her taillights disappear down the dark road, and I stand there watching until they’re no longer visible. Once I’m in my car, I open my app and watch her marker until it’s on her street.
This time, I don’t feel an ounce of shame about it, and now that I know she knows, I wonder if secretly she likes it.