Chapter 51 Knox #2
I turned the phone over in my hand. Such a small thing. People carried these everywhere, never thinking twice. To me, it felt like holding a key to a world I’d been locked out of for fourteen years.
“Thank you,” I said. “This is …”
“There’s another thing.” Ryker interjected.
The men motioned toward Harper. She crossed the room, and the crowd parted for her like she belonged there. Like she’d always belonged there.
She tucked herself against my side, warm and solid, and looked down at the phone.
“When we left the prison,” she said softly, “I got Gwen’s number. It’s programmed in there.”
My daughter’s number. Right there. One tap away.
My eyes burned.
“Goddammit,” Axel groaned. “He’s going full soft! I can see it happening in real time!”
“Would you shut up?” Blake snapped.
“I’m just saying, if he keeps this up, I’m swapping that phone case for pink Hello Kitty.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Years of missing birthdays and holidays and everything that mattered. And mostly, a decade of missing everything with my daughter.
And now her number was just … there.
Harper’s hand found mine and squeezed.
“I’ve got another small gift,” Axel said, his voice shifting to something lighter. Probably sensing I was about two seconds from doing something embarrassing, like crying in front of everyone.
He handed me a smaller bag. Inside was a framed card.
A Get Out of Jail Free card. From Monopoly.
I leveled him with my flattest stare.
“What?” He grinned. “It’s funny as shit.”
“This one’s from me.” Jace handed me a blue bag, very corporate, very on-brand for him. Inside was a clear plastic case labeled Post-Prison Reentry Kit.
I arched an eyebrow.
“My assistant put it together. Deodorant, real coffee, noise-canceling headphones in case the world gets too loud.”
He said it like a joke, but there was something genuine underneath. The world was too loud out here. Too bright. Too much. The headphones might actually save me.
“I have another one,” Axel announced.
“For fuck’s sake, Axel,” Ryker snarled. But everyone else was smirking. Including me.
“Relax, I didn’t wrap this one.” Axel pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and slapped it against my chest.
I unfolded it.
A list of rules.
“Read them out loud,” he said, smirking.
I sighed. “Rule number one: No fighting. Rule number two: No stabbing. Rule number three: If you feel like doing rule one or rule two, call your brothers.”
The room went quiet for a moment.
My brothers. That’s what these men were. Not by blood, but by choice. They’d stayed with me through every appeal, every denial, every setback. Fourteen years of monthly visits and collect calls and never once giving up.
“Oh, I have one more.” He tossed me another bag.
Inside was a T-shirt that read: Ask Me About My Time Inside.
I actually laughed. A real one, not the careful, controlled sounds I’d trained myself to make behind bars.
“You’re so immature.” Blake sighed.
“How are you feeling?” Jace asked, changing the subject.
I glanced back at Harper. She was watching me with a look that made my chest tight. Anticipation. Hope. Things I wasn’t used to seeing directed at me.
“Honestly?” I met his eyes. “I’ve never felt better.”
Axel cleared his throat. When I looked at him, his expression had shifted. The smirk was gone. In its place was something I almost didn’t recognize on him.
Sincerity.
“When you’re ready,” Axel said, “there’s a place waiting for you. In my company. As my right-hand man.”
I blinked. “I thought you offered inmates reentry jobs at the ground level. Construction and labor.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “The business is getting too big for me to run alone. You have a business degree. It’s a no-brainer.”
“My parole forbids associating with ex-cons.”
“Already secured the special permission and prior approval from your parole officer,” Ryker assured.
I eyed him.
Reading the question on my face, Ryker explained, “With Axel at the helm and the company long established, it was more of a formality. So, yes, they’re allowing you to do it.”
I swallowed. Guilt swept through me, heavy and familiar. I thought of the men I’d met inside. Good men who’d never get an opportunity like this.
“It doesn’t feel fair to accept that.”
“Fair?” Axel’s eyebrows shot up. “What part of your life has been the definition of fair?”
“My life was my own making.”
“Look.” He stepped closer, dropping his voice.
“This isn’t charity. I legitimately need a partner.
Someone who’s been on the inside. Someone who knows the system, who understands what these guys are going through when they get out.
” He paused. “We help inmates reenter society. Stable work, counseling, addiction services if they need it. I could hire some business-school asshole, but they wouldn’t have half the passion you do.
So, do me a favor, Knox. Stop being noble and say yes. ”
The room had gone quiet around us.
I looked at him. At this man who’d built an entire company around the injustices he’d seen me face, who was standing here, offering me a future I didn’t think I deserved.
“Of course,” I said.
His grin returned full force. “Perfect. I’ll have your office decorated. Black-and-white stripes or orange? Your choice.”
Jace slapped him on the shoulder while we all chuckled.
And just like that, my future stretched out before me. Not a concrete wall. Not a barred window. But an open road, full of possibility.
Harper’s hand found mine again. I brought it to my lips without thinking, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
Soon, I’d have her alone.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Ryker’s voice cut through the moment.
Right. The conversation he’d mentioned.
I followed him toward the hallway, away from the noise.
He turned to face me, and whatever warmth had been in his expression was gone. This was Ryker in protector mode. All business.
“I know you know this,” he said, “but you’re on parole, which means you’re only out on the condition you follow all their rules.
Break one, and you’ll spend the rest of those eleven years in prison.
You need to keep your nose clean. Stay down.
Don’t jaywalk. Don’t spit on the sidewalk.
Don’t give them any ammunition to put you back.
You attend every check-in early. Dot every i, cross every t, and triple-check that you’ve done it all. ”
“Right.” I kept my voice even. “And whatever I do, don’t break the law.”
“If you break the rules, you go back for the full eleven years. If you break the law, they’ll tack on more time. And for a convicted murderer?” He held my gaze. “They won’t be lenient. I don’t want to see you at eighty, pushing a walker through the prison yard.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched. “What would I ever do to get myself in that situation?”