Chapter Six #2
“My work insurance is OK, but the deductible is massive. Co-pays add up. I’m careful to work enough that I’m still eligible for their insurance.
” Shame colored my voice. “The shit of it is, I hadn’t even noticed we were that far behind.
I’ve been living in this hospital bubble three or four days at a time for months, and everything outside it just… slipped away.”
Knight’s jaw tightened, the muscle jumping beneath his beard. “Let me help, Lavender.”
“Knight, I know the club helps its own. Ada said as much in the car. And I appreciate it. Really. But I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not?” His voice remained soft but held a firmness that brooked no argument.
“Because…” I struggled to articulate the tangle of emotions in my chest. Pride. Shame. Fear of dependency. “Because I’m already asking you for so much. I’ve been figuring things out this long. I can figure this out, too.”
“You don’t have to.” His tattooed fingers closed around mine, warm and surprisingly gentle. “Not anymore.”
“So you’re just going to buy us now?” Brynn’s voice, sharp and clear, cut through our whispered conversation. I whirled around to find her headphones around her neck, eyes narrowed with accusation. My heart sank. How long had she been awake? How much had she heard?
“Brynn, honey. What’s going on? You’ve not had a problem with him before. I thought you liked Knight.” I started.
“After being gone my whole life,” she continued, ignoring me, her gaze locked on Knight. “you’re gonna give us a bunch of money. You think that’ll make us even. Then what? You gonna ditch the second this is all over?” Her voice wavered, betraying the emotion beneath her anger.
I expected Knight to tense up, to get defensive. Instead, his shoulders remained relaxed as he turned fully toward her, meeting her fury head-on.
“No,” he said simply. “I’m not leaving once all this is over.
I will play as much or as little role in your life as you and your mother will allow.
And I’m not trying to make up for anything I missed.
That ship’s sailed. Right now, I just want to do what I can to make this shit a little easier for both of you.
God knows you’ve been through enough on your own. ”
Brynn scoffed, but I noticed her hands trembling slightly where they clutched the thin hospital sheet. “We don’t need your help. We were fine before you showed up.”
Knight took a single step toward her bed, moving slowly, like approaching a cornered animal.
“Were you, though? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like your mom has been carrying a hell of a burden alone.
I’m also willing to bet you keep a fair bit from her because you know I’m right.
” His voice remained calm, matter-of-fact.
“And she shouldn’t have to deal with this alone any more than you should. ”
“That’s not your problem,” Brynn shot back.
“Family takes care of family,” Knight stated simply.
Brynn’s chin jutted out defiantly. “We’re not your family.”
Pain flickered in Knight’s eyes, but it vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.
“Regardless of how you feel about me right now,” he said gently but firmly, “I consider you mine now. I don’t have to be yours.
You can tell me to go to hell and I’ll stay away from you.
But I’ll still protect you the best I possibly can. ”
The declaration hung in the air between them, a gauntlet thrown down with such quiet certainty that even Brynn seemed momentarily lost for a comeback.
I watched my daughter’s face, saw the conflict, the desperate desire to reject this man who’d been absent her entire life battling against the undeniable pull of finally having a father who wanted her and wanted to protect her.
Knight broke the standoff by checking his watch. “It’s almost dinner time, and hospital food is shit. I’ll be back in an hour with food from the nurses’ approved list. Hopefully, something Brynn might actually want to eat. You two need anything else while I’m out?”
The normalcy of his question, as if he hadn’t just declared himself part of our family against Brynn’s explicit rejection, left me speechless. Before either of us could answer, Knight was moving toward the door.
“Don’t look so worried, Lavender,” he said, pausing at the threshold, giving me an encouraging smile. “We’ll figure this out. All of it.” And with that, he was gone, leaving Brynn and me staring at each other in stunned silence.
Part of me wanted to run after him, to tell him he couldn’t just storm back into our lives and take over. But the other part, the part that had been drowning alone for eleven years, felt something dangerously close to relief.
After Knight left, the silence in the room felt heavier than before.
Brynn glared at the door, then at me, her pale face flushed with emotion.
I perched on the edge of her bed, trying to find the right words to bridge the chasm between us.
How could I explain that accepting help wasn’t the same as admitting defeat?
That sometimes survival meant swallowing your pride?
I’d been teaching her independence her entire life. Maybe too well.
“Brynn,” I started, keeping my voice gentle. “I know this is a lot to process. I’m not thrilled about needing help either, but --”
“You don’t get it,” she cut in, her fingers already reaching for her headphones. “He’s just itching to take off. He did nothing but fidget the whole time you were gone. He doesn’t want to be here, and I don’t want him here.”
“Baby --”
She shook her head, the blue strands of her hair brushing her shoulders. “You were the one who always said we didn’t need anyone else. That we were enough.”
The accusation stung because it was true.
I had said those things, repeated them like a mantra during the hardest times.
Maybe I’d been trying to convince myself as much as her.
“Sometimes circumstances change,” I said carefully.
“And right now, we do need help. Medical bills, housing…” I gestured helplessly. “It doesn’t make us weak to accept it.”
Brynn’s expression hardened, and she slipped her headphones over her ears with deliberate slowness. Conversation over.
“Great. Headphones. The universal sign for ‘don’t fucking bother me,’” I muttered to myself as I collapsed into the vinyl hospital chair beside her bed.
I stared at my daughter’s profile, at the stubborn set of her jaw so like her father’s.
I knew the problem. She liked Knight. Probably more than she wanted to admit.
If he left after this, she’d be devastated and she didn’t know how to process her feelings.
It had always been me and her. Now she’d let someone else in, she realized how badly it would suck if that person left.
The man I’d fallen in love with all those years ago had been replaced by someone else.
Someone harder and maybe even a little bit mean.
But beneath the exterior, I caught glimpses of the same core.
The unflinching loyalty, the sharp intelligence, the ability to see straight to the heart of a problem hadn’t changed.
And now that loyalty had expanded to include Brynn and, by extension, me.
I still didn’t know what to do with my feelings for Knight, so I didn’t expect Brynn to know what to do with hers. I did know me and Knight needed to have a long talk about what happened next.
A nurse popped in to check Brynn’s vitals, her movements practiced and efficient. Brynn didn’t remove her headphones, just nodded or shook her head at direct questions. After the nurse left, we lapsed back into our standoff.
The smell hit me before I heard the door open -- savory, rich, nothing like the bland hospital food that had been our staple for weeks.
Knight backed into the room, arms loaded with takeout containers, his broad shoulders filling the door frame.
Brynn’s head snapped up, her nostrils flaring slightly at the aroma.
Even in her anger, she couldn’t hide her interest.
“Food delivery,” Knight announced, somehow managing to close the door with his foot without dropping anything. “From that Mediterranean place down the street. The nurse gave me a list of what he thought tasted the best while still being on an approved renal diet.”
He set the bags on the rolling tray table and began unpacking containers. The smell intensified as he revealed grilled chicken, lemon, herbs, warm pita. My stomach growled embarrassingly loudly, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since a stale vending machine granola bar at dawn.
Knight glanced up, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” I admitted.
Brynn reluctantly removed her headphones, letting them rest around her neck. “What did you get?” she asked, trying to sound indifferent but leaning forward to peer into the containers.
“Chicken souvlaki for your mom -- easy on the garlic,” he said, sliding a container toward me. “And for you, grilled chicken and rice. Easy on the sauce.”
“Better than hospital slop, I guess,” she muttered, but her hands reached eagerly for the container.
“So,” Knight said after we’d eaten for a few minutes.
“Ada and I have been talking.” He set down his fork, his expression serious but open.
“We have a suggestion about your living situation.” I tensed, waiting for what would come next.
Brynn’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “The Kiss of Death compound has a lot of apartments above the warehouses,” Knight continued.
“Everyone has their own space. No one’s claimed the apartment across from mine.
There are a couple of other brothers and their old ladies on the same floor, but it’s private and you’d have women nearby in case you weren’t comfortable with me just yet.
It’s furnished, secure, and could be yours for as long or as short a time as you need. ”
My fork froze halfway to my mouth. “The compound?” I echoed, images of outlaw biker gang documentaries flashing through my mind.
Knight’s mouth quirked slightly. “It’s not what you’re thinking.
It’s more like a small community. Gated entrance with a fence around the whole compound.
We have a bunch of warehouses we’ve converted into workshops and apartments.
The apartment would give you privacy, but you’d have people around to help if you needed anything. ”
“People like who?” Brynn asked, the first direct question she’d posed to Knight without hostility.
“Ada, for one. She lives there with Jag,” he answered.
“Knuckles and Hannah. They’ll be over later to meet you.
They didn’t want to overwhelm either of you but wanted to make sure they were nearby in case one of us needed them.
Every single one of them is people I trust with my life.
There’s a doctor who lives on site. Not a kidney specialist, but good in a pinch.
And it would give you a stable place to stay before and after any surgery.
Not to mention it’s in Nashville. The university hospital at Vanderbilt is in Nashville.
If you need immediate care, they can make sure you get up here safely. ”
The offer hung in the air, tempting and terrifying all at once. A place to live. Security. Help nearby. I didn’t know these people, but I trusted Knight with my life. Even if he’d changed somewhat over the years, without question, Knight would protect us with everything he had in him.
“Ada pointed out not every transplant patient lives near their hospital,” he continued. “Many come from hours away. And once we’re approved for the surgery and have a date, we could get a hotel here for as long as we need. Or maybe rent a house so we have help close by.”
I glanced at Brynn, surprised to find her watching Knight with careful consideration, the defiance in her posture softening slightly. The practical benefits of his offer were hard to dismiss, especially now that we had nowhere else to go.
“What do you think?” I asked her directly, respecting her enough to include her in the decision.
She shrugged, but it lacked the aggressive dismissal of before. “I guess it’s better than being homeless.” A concession, wrapped in typical Brynn bluntness.
I looked at Knight, at the hope barely concealed behind his careful expression. This man, still largely a stranger despite our shared past, was offering us a lifeline. Pride warred with necessity in my chest.
“We can work out the details later,” I finally said, accepting the offer without quite saying the words. “Right now, we need somewhere to go when Brynn’s discharged, and I need to figure out how to get our things from storage.”
Knight nodded, relief visible in the slight relaxation of his shoulders. “I’ll take care of the storage. I’ll get Tiny and Cash to get your stuff and take it back to the compound. They can stop by on their way back and let you get anything you need immediately.”
Brynn watched us over her food, her expression unreadable. But she didn’t put her headphones back on, and when Knight offered her a small container of baklava she actually muttered a quiet “thanks.”
It wasn’t acceptance. Not yet. But it was a start.