Chapter Five
Knight
I shifted the backpack strap on my shoulder as I approached Brynn’s hospital room, the weight of the board games inside pulling against my shoulder.
My gut tightened with each step. Games seemed like a pathetic peace offering after eleven years of absence, but I needed something to bridge the Grand Canyon-size gap between us.
Through the small window in the door, I spotted her sitting up in bed, her midnight-blue hair a stark contrast against the sterile white pillow.
Ada sat in a chair beside her, and both were reading silently.
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The steady beep of monitors greeted me first, followed by two pairs of eyes, Ada’s warm and welcoming, Brynn’s wary and guarded.
Her gaze swept over me from head to toe, taking in the tattoos that crawled up my neck and over my face, the bulging backpack, my Kiss of Death cut.
I’d left it on deliberately. No point hiding who I’d become.
“Hey,” I said, the word inadequate as hell. “Brought something that might help pass the time.”
Brynn closed her book, placing it on her lap. Her gaze tracked every move I made as I approached the bed. Ada stood, giving me a quick smile.
“I’ll grab some water,” she said, touching my arm as she passed. Her silent support steadied me.
The plastic chair Ada vacated creaked under my weight as I claimed it. The backpack landed with a thud on the floor as I sat.
“What’s in there?” Brynn asked, curiosity winning out over her determination to remain distant.
“Strategy games. Card games. Stuff that requires actual brain power.” I pulled out the first box -- a complex European board game with intricate wooden pieces.
“This one’s about building medieval cities.
Lots of resource management, planning ahead.
” I set it on the bed near her feet. The next game featured miniature warriors.
“This one’s about tactical warfare. Positioning troops, terrain advantages. ”
Brynn’s fingers twitched against her book cover. “I beat my mom at chess when I was six.”
“Yeah?” I stacked a third game on top. “These might actually challenge you, then.”
Her eyes lingered on the top box, the corners of her mouth almost -- almost -- turning up. “That one. What’s that?”
I passed it to her, watching as she turned it over to read the back. “It’s a game about establishing trade dominance through shipping routes. Has a bunch of different strategies to win.”
“I’ve read about this one online.” She opened the box, her thin fingers running over the game board. “It’s supposed to be pretty good. For a board game.”
“Want to set it up?” I kept my voice casual, like her answer didn’t matter. Like my heart wasn’t hammering against my ribs.
She shrugged but started unpacking the pieces. “Whatever.”
I adjusted her bed tray, clearing away the hospital lunch remains.
The smell of overcooked vegetables lingered, mixing with the ever-present antiseptic.
I longed to make sure she got food that didn’t smell like ass, but also knew she’d be on a diet approved for her kidneys.
As I arranged the board, Brynn watched my hands with undisguised curiosity.
“Those hurt?” she asked, nodding at my knuckle tattoos.
“Like a motherfucker.” The words slipped out before I could censor myself. “Sorry. Like hell.”
“I’m eleven, not five. I’m not gonna clutch my pearls on my fainting couch if someone says motherfucker.” She rolled her eyes. “How long were you in prison?”
The question hit like a sucker punch, but I kept my face neutral as I finished setting up the game board. The colored wooden pieces clicked against the plastic tray.
“Eight years, four months, seventeen days.” I arranged the resource cards in neat piles. “Got out early for good behavior and because I helped the feds with some other financial crimes.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do? To go to prison?”
I met her gaze directly. No bullshit. “Embezzlement. Worked for a big investment firm. Moved money around where it shouldn’t go. Got greedy.” I picked up the rulebook, flipping through it. “Started small, helping out friends who needed loans. Ended up taking millions.”
“Did you keep the money?”
I snorted. “Nah. Got caught. What I managed to keep went to lawyers, restitution, fines. Prison doesn’t exactly pay well.”
She absorbed this, her fingers absently arranging her game pieces in perfect rows. “What was it like? Prison?”
The memory of Terre Haute flashed through my mind. Concrete and steel, the smell of stale sweat and blood, the constant noise of men packed too tight together, made me sick to my stomach to think about.
“Cold. Boring. Dangerous if you didn’t know how to handle yourself.” I dealt out the starting resources. “USP Terre Haute is a high-security federal joint. Everything smelled like industrial cleaner and body odor. Guards sprayed mace first, asked questions later.”
“Did you get in fights?”
“Some.” I rolled the dice. “Enough to make sure people knew not to mess with me. Not enough to add time to my sentence. Though, fighting is what got me sent to Terre Haute in the first place.”
She nodded, processing this information with an expression too mature for her age. “Your move first,” she said, pointing at the board.
We played in silence for a few minutes, the plastic chair digging into my lower back. Brynn studied each move carefully, her strategy becoming apparent only after several turns revealed her master plan. She’d been quietly accumulating specific resources while appearing to make random choices.
“Shit,” I muttered as she blocked my shipping route with a perfectly placed piece.
“That’s three gold coins you owe the bank,” she said, a hint of smugness in her voice. “Plus, I get access to the spice market first.”
Her tactical brilliance stunned me. Not just the moves themselves, but the long-game planning behind them. Three turns later, she’d cornered the market on two key resources and effectively locked me out of the most profitable trade routes.
“Where’d you learn to think like that?” I couldn’t keep the admiration from my voice.
She shrugged. “Nobody taught me. I just see patterns.”
Ten minutes later, she demolished my remaining forces with a series of brutal, efficient moves.
“Game freakin’ over,” she announced, a genuine smile breaking across her face before she caught herself and pressed her lips together. But I’d seen the flash of pure delight, unguarded and real.
“Damn.” I leaned back, impressed beyond words. “That was… spectacular. Ruthless, actually.” I grinned. “I like it.”
She gathered the pieces, arranging them neatly in their compartments. “Want a rematch?” The question came out casual, but her eyes flickered to mine, waiting.
“Absolutely,” I said, already resetting the board. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you this time.”
A ghost of that smile returned. “Wouldn’t want you to.”
As I shuffled the cards, something eased in my chest. One game wouldn’t make a relationship, but maybe it could be the first stepping stone, the first cautious move across a bridge I’d thought permanently burned.
My daughter had destroyed me in that game, and I’d never been prouder of anything in my life.
Our rematch was in full swing, Brynn’s face locked in fierce concentration as she plotted my second downfall, when the hospital room door eased open.
Lavender stood in the doorway, hair damp and curling around her face, wearing clean clothes that still looked worn at the edges.
The pressure in my chest I’d grown used to since losing Lavender eased somewhat.
Her eyes widened slightly as they moved from me to Brynn and back again, registering the change between us.
“Mom!” Brynn’s voice lost its edge of wariness, sounding momentarily like the child she actually was. “I totally destroyed him in the first game. He’s trying to redeem himself.”
Lavender stepped into the room, her sweet scent trailing behind her. “Is that right?” Her voice held cautious wonder, like she’d stumbled into an alternate reality.
I shifted in my chair, strangely self-conscious under her gaze.
“Your kid’s a tactical genius. Reminds me of someone else I know who used to demolish me at chess.
” The memory slipped out before I could stop it.
Lavender, doing a victory dance in her eyes as she captured my king for the third straight game over her Christmas break.
The year before I realized how truly beautiful she was.
A smile flickered over Lavender’s face. “Ada insisted I use the shower at the hotel. Said she’d keep an eye on things.” She moved closer, studying the game board. “Looks serious.”
“Knight brought games,” Brynn said, the use of my current name jarring coming from her. “Not baby stuff. Real games.”
“I can see that.” Lavender perched on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the pieces. Her hand brushed Brynn’s leg through the thin blanket, a small, unconscious gesture of reassurance.
I watched her from beneath lowered lashes, needing to study the changes in her face.
New lines around her eyes. A small scar near her temple I didn’t recognize.
The way she carried exhaustion in the set of her shoulders.
But her eyes… Those hadn’t changed. Still that clear hazel that could strip me bare with a single look.
It was that look that made me want to lay the world at her feet.
“Your turn,” Brynn prompted, pulling my attention back to the game. “Knight says I get my strategy skills from him,” she informed Lavender, not looking up from the board.
“He’s probably right about that,” Lavender replied, her eyes meeting mine over Brynn’s head.
An hour passed before I noticed Brynn’s moves slowing, her eyelids growing heavy.
“Falling asleep on me to avoid another crushing defeat?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
She fought a yawn, stubborn to the end. “No way. Just resting my eyes before I make my final move.”