Chapter 7
The weather is gnarly, and for another night, the rain hammers down onto the roof of the farmhouse. At least now, it’s not leaking all through the kitchen. I haven’t heard from Ralston again since his last visit, but I know he is coming soon.
I have tried to dig deeper, to find more, searching through old boxes in the house, but I have come up empty. I want to know why, mostly. Harper was a good person, a kind soul, so why would she work with such a dangerous man?
It just doesn’t make sense.
I know I am missing something, but I don’t know what.
A large crack of thunder has me jerking, staring as the lights begin to flicker. Oh no, please no. This place has a generator, but I don’t know how to use the damn thing, and there is no way I’m staying here if the power goes out.
As if the universe is laughing at me, the lights flick off, turning my world dark.
I curse, fumbling with my phone, only to realize I have no idea where I put it. I trip through the living room, hands out in front of me, praying I don’t break my ankle on a random box. When I find my phone, it’s at three percent. Of course it is.
“Mera,” I mumble, scrolling through my contacts with trembling fingers. “Please answer, please answer...”
She picks up on the fourth ring, her voice soft but alert. “You alive? Or did one of those rats finally take you out?”
“The power’s out,” I breathe, sinking down to the floor beside the window and watching the storm turn the yard into a mess of shadows. “It’s pitch black, and there is no way in hell I can start that generator.”
She laughs. “You want me to come get you?”
“Please. I’ll owe you anything. My non-existent future children, my secret stash of chocolate, whatever. Just... don’t let me die out here.”
She snorts. “I’ll take the chocolate, you keep the kids. Nia’s little devil is enough.”
Nia’s little adopted daughter Lily is adorable, and Sable’s baby is going to be adorable, even though it isn’t Kael’s. Long, twisted story, that one.
“Thank you.”
“You safe for ten minutes?” she asks.
I glance at the door, at the pathetic deadbolt. “Define safe.”
I don’t hang up until I hear her start the car, the sound muffled through the call but loud enough to tell me she’s actually coming. I pull on my boots and a hoodie and sit huddled on the bottom step, counting thunderclaps.
Mera’s headlights slice through the dark just over ten minutes later. I make a run for it, sloshing through mud, only realizing how hard I’m shaking when I slam the passenger door shut and the plastic handle almost snaps off. Mera grins at me.
“You look like a drowned rat,” she teases.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Just so you know,” she tells me, turning the car around. “Knox is in a mood tonight.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter.
The parking lot is nearly empty when we arrive at the compound, except for a few motorcycles lined up, rain-slicked and shining under the lights. I’m not ready to deal with Knox. Not after the last time. But I also really don’t want to go home.
“You sure you want to stay here?” Mera asks, turning the car off.
“It’s this or the rats.”
She laughs. “Fair.”
Inside, everyone is just chilling, drinking beer and playing pool.
I spot Knox immediately. He’s at the corner table, a woman draped across his lap, her hand curling through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He looks up as we enter, his mouth twisting in that sarcastic almost-smile, and I feel my stomach twist.
What do I care?
Seriously, what do I care.
I ignore him, sliding up to the bar and sitting by Zane, who immediately shoots me a grin and orders me a drink. “How’s the haunted house? Couldn’t handle the critters tonight?”
I laugh. “Haunted and without electricity. My favorite.”
“Well, you know you’re always welcome here. My bed is free.”
I roll my eyes, shoving him with my shoulder. “We only just met, you know. You could be anyone.”
He winks at me. “Anyone or no one, I will take either.”
I take the drink when it is put in front of me by a half-naked blonde woman, who I think they call sweetbutts.
“Are you this charming to all the women, or just me?”
He leans in close, keeping the grin. “Only the pretty ones.”
“Charmer.”
“So,” he murmurs, pulling out a cigarette. “If you’re not staying with me, who are you crashing with?”
“She’s stayin’ with me.”
Knox’s voice comes from behind me, and I flinch, turning and seeing him standing, his eyes on Zane, firm and unwavering.
“I absolutely am not,” I say, too loud.
Zane chuckles. “I’m stayin’ out of this one.”
“It’s that or the farmhouse, all the other rooms are taken. Which one do you prefer?” Knox growls, his voice low.
I can’t tell if he’s lying or threatening me. Either way, I’m not going to the barn.
“Fine, but I’m sleeping on the floor,” I mutter.
“Best of luck,” Zane teases.
“Zip it,” I snap as Knox nods his head in the direction of his room.
I follow him, ignoring Mera and Nia’s silly little thrusting dance that they do as we leave.
Knox’s room is exactly how I remember it, and I watch awkwardly as he turns on the lights and takes his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor.
“Isn’t your little woman staying in here?” I say, sarcastically.
“Already finished with her today.”
Jesus.
Do I dare ask?
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the shower running. I take that time to take a pillow and spare blanket and make myself a spot on the floor. Sitting down, I wait and listen as the shower stops and Knox walks out, towel around his waist.
I try not to stare at his sweat-slicked skin, or the way his muscles bunch. Don’t get me started on the bulge between his legs, outlined by the white towel.
God damn.
This was a really bad idea.
Lightning cracks outside, and I can hear the storm getting worse.
“Are you actually this stubborn?” he says, folding his arms.
I blink up at him. “I’m not sleeping in your bed. No thank you.”
He doesn’t answer. He simply crosses the room in three long strides, scoops me up with absolutely no warning, and deposits me straight onto his bed. I shriek, punch his shoulder, but he’s made of granite and doesn’t even flinch.
“What is wrong with you,” I huff, trying to scurry off the bed, but he has my ankle before I can get close, dragging me back.
“You’re not sleepin’ on the floor.”
"I am sleeping on the floor," I say, twisting, but he’s already tossing a second pillow to the head of the bed.
“Floor’s covered in jizz, you want to get pregnant? Be my guest,” he says, shrugging. There’s a tiny scar across his shoulder, white against his tan skin, and my eyes lock onto it like it’s easier to catalog every inch of him than admit I’m not equipped for this argument right now.
“You are disgusting!” I snap.
There is no way I’m laying in his jizz, though. I clamber as far left as possible and fluff my pillow. The mattress is weirdly soft, not that I’m letting him know. Knox towels his hair off, then stands there, face unreadable.
I stare. “You plan to stand there all night like a weirdo?”
He grins, wolfish, and drops the towel, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be completely naked in front of me. My jaw drops open, and a weird sound comes out, one that I am immediately horrified by.
“Can you not...,” I gesture, helpless, “flop your junk out?”
He ignores me, crawls onto the other side of the bed, and yanks the blanket up to his waist.
“I am not sleeping next to you naked,” I say, louder than I mean to. “No offense, but I don’t trust you not to wake me up with something... in me.”
He lets out a full-body snort, like I’m the funniest thing he’s seen in months. "Don’t flatter yourself, sunshine. Fucked a sweetbutt three times already today. I got nothing left for you.”
That’s supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t. It does, however, shut me right up. There’s a weird twist in my chest at the idea of him with someone else, a twist I don’t like. I quickly push it aside, refusing to spend a second trying to figure it out.
He puts his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. “Go to sleep.”
I bite my lip.
The storm rages against the window, and for a while, I just watch his shoulders rise and fall, studying how he doesn’t tense when I shift the mattress, how he sleeps like he’s not scared of anything in the world.
I lay down, stiffer than a corpse, back to him and eyes trained on the walls. I am not thinking about what would happen if I let myself touch him, just for a second, just to see what it would feel like to run a finger along that scar. Nope. Definitely not thinking about that.
The last thing I remember is the feel of the sheets, warm and soft against my skin, and the slow, even sound of Knox breathing.
I drift under, for once, without a single dream.
IT’S BLISSFULLY SILENT when I wake.
Morning has not yet come, and the hot, hard body beside me is a comfort I am scared to admit I like.
Sitting up, I rub my eyes and glance at my phone.
It’s three a.m. I turn it in the direction of Knox, to see him sleeping so soundly, his back to me, his big shoulders rising and falling with every breath.
My chest clenches.
I’m afraid of the things swirling around in my body when I look at this man.
I need to snap out of it.
Climbing out of bed, I move towards the bathroom where I use it quickly and then stare at myself in the mirror. Hot mess indeed. My hair is a mess, falling around my shoulders and in need of a little more love than I have been giving it. My eyes are tired, and I know I should go back to sleep.
Moving back out, I pause at the photo of Knox and Harper on the dresser. Picking it up, a mix of things washes through me. Jealousy, grief, sadness, and a mix of things I don’t understand. Harper was so easy to love, and I can see he loved her so much.
Will anyone ever love me that much?
“Her birthday.”
Knox’s groggy voice has me spinning around. He’s sitting, staring at me with that gorgeous half-sleepy expression that makes me want to pounce on him and kiss him with everything I am. I shake that thought away before I so much as let it sink in.
“I remember,” I say, looking back down at the photo. “She texted me that night, she was so drunk from doing jelly shots and was making you so crazy you locked her in the room and she tried to escape.”
I can’t help but smile.
“Fuckin’ tried to climb out the window and fell flat on her face, busted her nose.”
I laugh softly. “She was crazy like that, but it’s what I loved most about her.”
“She talked about you a lot.”
I put the photo down and turn toward him. “She did?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice low and real. “Every day. You were her person.”
My chest clenches. I pick at the hem of my shirt. “She was the only one who ever got me. Didn’t matter what I did. Like she saw all the shit and just... let it be.”
I sink to the edge of the bed, the worn photo of them staring up from the dresser. “Did you know she was working with Ralston?”
Silence. He tenses, makes a fist, releases it. “No fucking clue.”
I glance over, and his jaw’s tight, his eyes locked on the wall like he could burn a hole straight through it. “I knew she was doin’ something. She was actin’ weird, doin’ strange things, but I never thought it was that.”
I pick at the corner of the blanket. “I still don’t get it. I keep going through all the stuff, I keep thinking there’s a reason somewhere. Like she wrote it in invisible ink and if I just stare hard enough, I’ll see the answer.” I laugh, but it dries in my throat. “All I find is more questions.”
“She lied,” he says, and I can feel the hurt and anger in his voice. “She fuckin’ lied about everything.”
I turn, meeting his eyes. “That must hurt.”
My voice is soft, careful.
He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice makes my chest ache because I can hear what this has done to him. “Yeah. Because I loved her. When she died, it fuckin’ destroyed me. Took so long to see any kind of light again.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, because it’s all I have.
“Sorry for what, you didn’t do it,” he mutters, his voice clipped.
I shake my head, heart ticking faster. “You know,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I sometimes can’t understand why she picked you, because you’re a real dick.”
He grins, and I exhale quietly, knowing I have broken the tension. “I know.”
“But then I see shit like that,” I gesture at the photo, “and I get it. She wanted someone who wouldn’t let go of her no matter what she did.”
He lets out a low breath. “You want to know what I don’t get? How someone can be so fuckin’ smart, so beautiful, and not see what she had right in front of her.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Well, bad decisions run in our family.”
We’re quiet a while, and the air in the room feels thick. Then he says, “What about you?”
I shift. “Me what?”
He looks right at me. “You ever let anyone in? Or is this little act you put on actually who you are?”
I huff. “No, I haven’t, because every single one I start to let in lets me down.”
“Maybe you just picked the wrong asshole.”
“Or maybe I am the asshole?” I joke lightly.
He grunts. “Could be. But you got good taste in whiskey, at least.”
Lightning flickers, illuminating the room. I can feel the urge in me, thickening, and I know I am walking a fine line. I can’t help myself, though, I look at him. I don’t look at the scar or the tattoos. This time I look at his mouth, and then his eyes.
He reaches out, and even though I know I should pull away, I can’t.
His fingers connect with my cheek and slide down in a way that has my whole body shivering with a need I have to control.
He is going to kiss me again, and if he kisses me, I am going to lay down and let him fuck me until we both forget the name Harper.
Harper.
I can’t.
I can’t be the reason he uses to try and move on. Only one person will come out of that in one piece, and it won’t be me. He will break me into a million pieces because he will never love me like he loved her, and I can’t live with that.
“Please don’t kiss me.”
My voice comes out low, whispered, and my heart is racing so hard I can feel it in my head.
“You’re makin’ that really fuckin’ hard.”
“If you kiss me, Knox, it will break us both. Please, I can’t be broken. Don’t kiss me.”
He holds my gaze for so long I wonder if he will do it anyway, but instead, he lets out a loud exhale and drops his hand. He lays back down, staring up at the ceiling, and my heart skips so many beats I’m certain I’m about to go into cardiac arrest.
“Night, sunshine,” he murmurs into the darkness.
A pain unlike anything I have ever felt floods my chest.
Hurt? Confusion? I don’t know.
“Goodnight, Knox,” I whisper.
Then I lay down and go to sleep, knowing I need to get out of this place before I do something I can’t take back.