Chapter 9 #3
Still, I started it. Now I had to answer him.
“The one you stopped to watch drive past.”
“I thought I did, but I couldn’t see the driver, so I can’t be sure.”
“Who did you think it was?”
“Cheyenne.”
Okay times two. So he wasn’t going to play it like I played it.
Now what did I do?
I made a new decision. “I thought I saw her the other night too.”
I didn’t think it was her. I knew it was.
Like he did.
The air in the car grew close before he asked low, “Sorry?”
“Um…I thought I saw her in a car the other day.”
“When?”
“Actually, it was last night.”
“Where were you?”
“Going into The Porch.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“Because you got so pissed the last time I told you she was in my space, I didn’t want you pissed again.”
“And the last time, I told you to tell me if you saw her again.”
“I couldn’t be sure,” I lied.
I was totally sure.
“You still should have told me.”
“Okay, but I just told you,” I pointed out.
“A day later.”
“Knox,” I snapped. “You just got shot. You were with her. Obviously, she cares about you. She’s undoubtedly worried about you. And you’ve made it clear you aren’t going to keep her apprised of your recovery. Maybe this is just her way of…seeing if you’re okay.”
“Following me, sure. I’d understand that. It’s creepy as all fuck, but on a certain level, I’d get it. But following you?”
Mm-hmm.
That was creepier by even more fuck.
“I was thinking, if I saw her again, I’d talk to Jayden, Shanti’s cousin, about what to do,” I shared.
“When I asked you to tell me?”
“Knox, I didn’t want you upset…again. And anyway, what can you do except repeat your message to back off?”
He had no reply to that because he was a badass, but he wasn’t an officer of the law. There was nothing he could do but repeat his message, maybe threaten her, and if it continued to be a problem, contact law enforcement.
“I want to know if you see her again,” he commanded.
“Okay, sure,” I conceded.
“Like we need her shit on top of everything else,” he muttered out the side window.
We?
I let that go.
So did Knox when I heard him say, “You were very cool with Dream.”
“I’m realizing she gets a lot of mixed messages from Mom and Dad. Dad isn’t at one with her attitude and manipulations. Mom does stuff that rewards her attitude and manipulations.”
“Neither are good, but I think she’s focusing on your dad.”
“I think so too,” I agreed.
“He favors you and doesn’t hide it.”
I made a face because, yeah. He did.
“Mom favors Dream,’ I told him.
“No, baby,” he said quietly. “Your mom favors you too. She just rolls over for Dream in an attempt to make things go smoother.”
I glanced at him before putting my eyes back to the road. “You think Mom favors me?”
“You’re easier. You don’t suck all her energy. You pitch in rather than taking what you can get. You don’t make her wonder where she went wrong. Yeah, she favors you too.”
I could see that, even if I wasn’t sure of it. I always thought Dream was Mom’s favorite, and I was Dad’s, in a kind of natural-order type of deal.
Though, if Dream saw it the way Knox did…that could be an issue.
In fact, it could be the issue.
“Tonight, she had someone take her back,” Knox continued. “Twice. Once when you told off your dad, the other when you shared you made Byron state his case before he earned a date with her. She’s Dream, so she didn’t make it plain this meant something to her. But it meant something to her.”
“You think?”
“I was sitting right next to her, honey. I felt it coming off her. She was shocked as shit you cut your dad off and defended her.”
I smiled. “See? I think I’m making headway with her.”
“Miracle worker.”
I kept smiling.
We drove the rest of the way to Knox’s house, mostly bickering about how he was holding Jacques on his lap, and this meant close to his wound on his bad leg (me), and how I needed to chill out (Knox).
Knox did not put Jacques in the back seat.
When I stopped in his drive, I turned to him. “I see you’ve entirely nixed the crutch.”
“I can walk to and from a car and to and from a dining room without needing a two-hour nap,” he returned. “But I promise I’ll use it when I go up the stairs.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled and took hold of Jacques so he didn’t get out with Knox.
But after Knox got out, he bent at the waist to catch my eyes through the open door.
“You need help getting to the front door?” I asked.
“No. I need you to know I didn’t fuck Cheyenne.”
I sat perfectly still.
Jacques woofed in shock at this revelation (okay, maybe it wasn’t shock, more like confusion as to why Knox was hanging and I wasn’t getting out so we could all hang together).
“Another problem she and I had,” he said. “And another reason she knew I was still hung up on you.”
My mind was blank, unfortunately, so this gave him the opportunity to murmur, “See you tomorrow, baby,” straighten away from the car, walk up his walk (he had a limp, but it wasn’t that bad) and disappear into his house.
Throughout this, I didn’t pull out of his driveway.
Jacques and I sat in the car and stared at his front door.
It took some doing, but I pulled myself together, put my dog in the seat beside me and reversed out.
I didn’t fuck Cheyenne.
He was with her for months, he was a man with a very healthy libido, and he didn’t sleep with her.
I was still hung up on you.
Shit.
Shit!
We so had to have our talk, because I had no idea what exactly was going on, but something was going on.
And it was time to get things straight.
Then move on.
However that was going to occur.