Chapter 44 Harper
HARPER
Knox looked so damn peaceful sleeping that I hated having to wake him.
Well, as peaceful as someone could look with a swollen face and bruises darkening across his entire body like storm clouds rolling in.
I glared at the handcuffs confining his wrists to the infirmary bed. So help me, if they had given me the key, I would’ve granted Knox the dignity of not being tied down like an animal while he recovered.
The infirmary was silent and nearly dark tonight. One other nurse was on duty, but she was stationed at the opposite end, probably scrolling through social media. Medicine always had its ebbs and flows, but tonight, we were quiet.
And for that, I was grateful.
The silence gave Knox a chance to rest.
My watch interrupted that silence with a soft warning beep. I stood and hovered over his face, taking in the sharp line of his jaw beneath the stubble, the way his sandy-blond hair was mussed against the thin pillow. Even beaten and bruised, the man was unfairly attractive.
“Knox.” I kept my voice gentle. “Knox.” Louder this time.
He groaned, his eyelids fluttering.
“I need you to wake up.”
“Hmmmm.”
“I know you want to rest, so I’ll be quick, okay? Just need you to open your eyes for me.”
He was disoriented, slowly swimming back to consciousness, and it struck me how vulnerable he looked. How fragile.
When he finally opened his eyes, it took a moment for them to focus. But when they did, those stunning eyes locked on to me like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing.
“Hey.” I smiled softly. “Can you tell me your name?”
He rolled his eyes. “Knox.”
“Good. Where are you?”
“Would say hell.” His voice was rough, gravelly from sleep. “But you’re here. So heaven.”
I smirked, even though a part of me hurt at his kindness. I didn’t deserve it after the things I’d said to him. “Sense of humor is intact. That’s a good sign. But I need the real answer.”
He sighed, then winced at the pain in his ribs. “Coldwater Penitentiary. Infirmary.”
“Good. I need to check your pupil response.” I clicked on my penlight and shone it into his eyes, watching the pupils contract. “Equal and reactive. That’s good.”
As my face hovered inches from his, his attention was locked on me completely, and something warm uncurled in my chest.
“Can you wiggle your fingers for me?”
He complied.
“Good. Now squeeze my hand?”
This was secretly my favorite check. Knox’s warm hand wrapped around mine and squeezed. Strong. Steady. Alive.
“That’s fantastic, Knox.”
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Four in the morning. You have a few more hours before the infirmary comes alive with its daily patients. I’ll check your pulse and blood pressure, and then you can go back to sleep, okay?”
And then tomorrow, after his body had its much-needed rest, I could talk to him about our fight. Tomorrow, when he wasn’t battling excruciating pain or fighting exhaustion, I would give him the heartfelt apology he deserved, and while I had no right to expect him to forgive me, I hoped he would.
The thought of him not forgiving me had tortured me all night.
I worked carefully, examining his wounds, checking his vitals. The entire time, his gaze remained fixed on my face, tracking my every movement.
“Okay. You can go back to sleep.” I resumed my seat in the chair beside him, where I’d been camped out for hours.
“So, you’re just going to sit there, staring at me?” One corner of his mouth twitched.
“Observing. Yes.”
“Kind of creepy, don’t you think?”
“TBIs require me to check you every two hours. It’s medical protocol.”
“Pretty sure medical protocol doesn’t require you to watch me sleep in between checks.”
He had me there.
“Maybe I’m making sure you don’t stop breathing.”
“Uh-huh.” His silver eyes glinted with something that looked dangerously close to amusement. “And the extra blankets? The pillow you fluffed three times? Also medical protocol?”
I crossed my arms. “You were cold.”
“I’m in a prison infirmary, not a spa. We’re supposed to be cold. Builds character.” He shifted slightly, wincing. “Besides, I’ve slept on a concrete slab in solitary before. This mattress might as well be a cloud.”
“Wow. The bar is literally on the floor.”
“Welcome to the prison system.” His gaze tracked over my face, softening despite his sarcastic tone. “You should go home. Get some sleep.”
Like I would leave him right now. “Can’t. I’m on shift.”
“You’re not on shift. You volunteered to babysit me.”
“Just go to sleep, Knox. I’ll wake you in two hours.”
“So you can stare at me some more?”
“So I can observe you some more. There’s a difference.”
“Uh-huh.” He settled back against the pillow, but his eyes stayed on me. “You know, if you wanted to spend the night with me, there are easier ways.”
I smiled.
His expression softened, the teasing fading into something more vulnerable. “Thank you. For staying.”
The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache.
“Don’t mention it.”
“I mean it, Harper.”
“I know you do.” I settled back in my chair, pulling my knees up. “Now close your eyes before I sedate you.”
“Kinky.”
“Good night, Knox.”
He chuckled, low and rough, then grimaced at the pain again.
Like he’d done each time he’d woken, Knox reached for his neck, only to find his hand cuffed. Like last time he moved his neck, looking for the familiar feeling of that necklace against its skin, only to realize, once again, that it was missing.
“Right here.” I jumped up and pressed the pendant into his palm.
As he looked down at his necklace, I stood frozen, watching pain etch itself across his features, feeling powerless to help him. And unsure where his pain was coming from.
“She wants nothing to do with me.” His words were choked, layered with grief.
“Who?”
“My daughter.” He stared at the necklace, his thumb rubbing over the beads.
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“She came to see me.”
I blinked. “She did? When?”
“Today.” He paused. “Well, technically yesterday.”
“She came to see you,” I said carefully. “That has to be a good sign.”
He shook his head, still fidgeting with the necklace.
“She sees me as a monster.” His voice cracked. “That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I think I might’ve made a really big mistake.”
I had never seen Knox like this. It twisted something in my stomach, hearing the pain in his words. Seeing it carved into his features. His thumb continued its rhythmic path over the metal beads.
I moved to the side of his bed and sat down carefully, mindful of his injuries.
“This whole time,” Knox continued, his eyes distant, “I honestly thought I had done the right thing. Hell, I saw myself as her savior. Even though I never expected her to see me that way, I convinced myself that I had saved her from a lifetime of suffering.” He swallowed hard.
“But I never stopped to consider what it cost her.”
I placed my hand over his, unsure what to say. I sensed something heavy in his heart that needed to come out.
“The guy broke into our house.” Knox’s voice dropped, and he stared at the ceiling like he was watching the memory play out above him.
“It had been all over the news. Some predator was breaking into homes in our area, doing unspeakable things to children. Leaving them with a lifetime of trauma. The police had nothing on him. No DNA. No witnesses. Just a trail of broken kids and a community living in fear.”
My stomach turned.
“It was one in the morning. I had come home for the weekend from college. I was a light sleeper. When I heard something and went to check on my daughter, there he was. Standing over her bed. Wearing the ski mask they’d described on the news.
In the neighborhood he was targeting. And Gwen …
” His voice broke. “She fit the profile.”
“Knox …”
“I lost it. Completely lost it. I tackled him. We fought. He ran. And I knew … I knew if I let him go, they’d never catch him. He’d do it again. To other little girls. Maybe to Gwen.”
His jaw tightened.
“So I chased him.”
The words hung in the air.
“I caught up to him two blocks away. He was climbing a fence. I pulled him down. Started hitting and choking him.” Knox’s voice went flat. Detached. Like he was describing something that happened to someone else. “And I … I didn’t stop.”
I squeezed his hand, my throat tight.
“I could have stopped, Harper. When he was on the ground, no longer a threat, I could have called the police. Could have held him there until they arrived. But all I could see was my daughter’s face. All I could think about was what he’d done to those other kids. What he would have done to her.”
He finally met my eyes, and the anguish there nearly broke me.
“So, I kept choking him. Until he stopped moving.”
Oh my God. I obviously knew that Knox had killed a man, but knowing that and hearing the explicit details of how he had ended that man’s life was overwhelming.
“After … I panicked. I ran back to check on Gwen. My ex was holding her with her back to me, so she hadn’t seen I was covered in blood.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if he’d already touched her.
If I’d been too late. If my ex saw me, I knew she’d ask what happened, and I couldn’t explain it. Not with Gwen right there.”
“So, you left,” I said quietly.
“I drove back to college. Showered. Tried to think. I kept telling myself I’d go to the police in the morning. Explain everything. But before I could, they showed up at my door.”
Fucking hell.
“How did they find you?”
“Neighbor saw me chasing him.” He laughed bitterly. “If I’d just stayed. If I’d called the police myself, told them what happened … maybe things would’ve been different.”
“What do you mean?”
“The prosecutor.” Knox’s expression hardened.
“Guy named Wolfe. He came at me hard. Told me I was looking at murder one. Life without parole. Said I’d chased a man down and killed him in cold blood and no jury in the world would see it as self-defense because the threat was over the moment that guy ran. ”