Chapter 23. Florian
The house was perfect. The floors were polished, the air smelled good, and the temperature was regulated.
I felt horrible, even so.
It had been three days since the motel. Three days since the smell of rot and stale vodka had filled my nose, and I still couldn't scrub it out.
I stood in the shower for forty minutes every morning, scalding my skin until it turned pink, but the moment I stepped out, I felt contaminated again. Not even the shelter had been this bad.
"Florian?"
Knox’s voice came from the kitchen island. I paused in the doorway, my backpack slung over one shoulder. I was wearing the clothes he’d bought me, slacks that fit perfectly, a soft knit burgundy sweater, but inside them, I felt hollowed out.
"Morning," I said.
"Breakfast," he said gently, sliding a plate toward my usual spot. Eggs benedict, my favorite. The hollandaise sauce was a glossy, perfect yellow.
I climbed onto the stool. Sit. Napkin in lap. Fork in hand. This was the routine.
Knox leaned against the counter opposite me with his espresso. He wasn't looking at his phone or his tablet. He was watching me. His gaze was heavy. I could feel him analyzing the shadows under my eyes.
"I have an anatomy lab today," I said to the plate, as I had to tell him my schedule.
"I know," Knox replied. His voice was soft, not commanding. He was treating me like I was made of spun sugar. "Driver will be waiting at two to pick you up."
"Okay."
I managed three bites. The food tasted good, amazing actually, but I couldn't eat. I pushed the rest around the plate, hoping he wouldn't comment. He didn't. He just watched, his dark brows drawn together. It made me feel a lot of guilt, but I couldn’t force it down.
Campus was a blur. I sat in the back of the lecture hall, my notebook open.
The professor droned on about Maslow's hierarchy of needs, drawing triangles within triangles on the whiteboard as she emphasized self-actualization, but the words just washed over me.
I wrote nothing down. I stared at the back of the girl in front of me, counting the stray hairs escaping her bun, thinking about nothing.
My phone buzzed at noon. Check-in. A reminder I’d set myself. I typed the text with numb fingers.
Lunch break. Library.
I didn't go to the library. I sat on a concrete bench near the fountain, watching water spill over stone. If I disappeared right now, would anyone really notice? Or would Knox just find another boy to fix, one who wasn't so fundamentally damaged? I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me.
Actually, I did.
I was just like Finn. A parasite, living off Knox's money and kindness.
When I got home, the silence of the house hit me. Usually, I’d turn on music, or find Mrs. Gable and annoy her while she dusted, or wait for Knox to come home so I could tease him. Today, I walked straight to my room, closed the door, and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Dinner was quiet. The clink of silverware against china.
"How was the lab?" Knox asked. He had poured me a glass of wine, just one, per the rules, but I hadn't touched it.
"Hmm, it was okay," I said.
"Learn anything interesting?"
You don't, I wanted to scream. You don't understand that I feel like dirt. That his blood is my blood. That every time you touch me now, I feel like I'm contaminating you.
"Daddy, may I be excused?" I asked, feeling like a child in the worst possible way.
Knox looked at my full plate, then at my pale face. He nodded once. "Go. Rest."
I fled. I stripped off my clothes and crawled under the covers of my own bed and curled into a ball, squeezing my eyes shut.
I listened to the house settle, waiting for the feeling of safety to return, but for the first time since he’d brought me here, the darkness felt just like the darkness everywhere else.
I lay in the dark for hours. Every time I drifted off, I was back in Room 12 at the Starlight, the smell of sickness clogging my throat.
At 3:00 AM, I gave up.
I kicked off the sheets and slipped out of bed. The house was silent and still. I padded down the hallway.
I needed water.
The kitchen was bathed in the blue glow of the moonlight and the small green LED of the coffee machine. I moved to the fridge.
As I poured a glass of water from the dispenser, the room lit up.
It wasn't the overhead lights. It was a phone, sitting on the marble island, charging, vibrating silently against the stone. Knox usually wouldn’t leave his phone down here, but he wasn’t attached to it like I was attached to mine.
His generation definitely didn’t care about phones the way mine did.
He must have forgotten it charging after our disastrous dinner.
I shouldn't look. But the screen went dark, then lit up again almost immediately.
I stepped closer, drawn by it and looked at the screen.
Missed Call: St. Mary’s Hospital - Patient Room 404.
And below that, a list. Dozens of them. Unknown Caller. Unknown Caller. St. Mary’s. St. Mary’s.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew who was in that room.
I reached out, my finger hovering over the glass. I knew the passcode; Knox had given it to me weeks ago in case of emergency. 0424. My birthday. A detail that usually made me warm now made me want to weep. I unlocked the phone.
The call log was red. Missed calls starting from the moment we left the motel. He hadn't stopped. I went to the voicemail. The inbox was full.
My thumb trembled as I pressed play on the most recent one. I held the phone up to my ear, pressing the speaker against my head.
"...think you're big shit, don't you?"
Finn’s voice. It was raspy, but toxic.
"Stealing my son. I talked to a lawyer, buddy. Yeah. Free legal aid. They said... they said it's grooming. Said I could have you arrested. You want that on the news?”
I gasped. The message ended. I played the next one.
"Hey... look, I didn't mean that before.
I'm just hurting. The nurse says I need this prescription when I get out, but the coverage you bought...
it don't cover everything. I need five hundred.
Just five hundred cash. Tell Florry... tell him his old man is suffering.
He won't let me suffer. He's a good boy. I know you made him block me but I’ll contact him. "
Next.
"I know all about you, Knox, I got everything from the hospital, so easy, they didn’t even ask questions. I know your number, where you live, about your company. You’re ruined, my friend. Ruined."
The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering loudly onto the marble counter.
I couldn't breathe. The air in the kitchen had turned solid, pressing in on my lungs.
He was still doing it. Even from a hospital bed, paid for by Knox, he was leaking his toxicity into our lives. And Knox... Knox was absorbing it all. He was taking the threats, the extortion, the abuse, silently filtering it so I wouldn't have to.
He was being accused of grooming? Because of me. Because he picked up a stray who came with too much baggage.
My legs gave out. I slid down the front of the cabinets, my silk pajamas against the wood, until I hit the floor. I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, burying my face in them.
I was a tumor in Knox’s life. I brought nothing but chaos and filth and liability. He could lose everything, his reputation, his business, his freedom, just because I existed in his orbit.
The tears came hot and fast, soaking the silk at my knees. I tried to be quiet, biting down on my own arm to stifle the sobs. I rocked back and forth on the cold floor.
The following morning, I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, shivering despite the warmth of the room. I hadn’t slept. I had spent the rest of the night on the floor, then moved to the living room couch, staring blankly at the dark until dawn broke.
Knox was at the coffee machine. He wore his navy silk robe, his hair slightly damp from a shower. He turned, a mug in his hand. He looked very concerned when he saw me.
"Florian?" He set the mug down with a sharp clack. "Good God, look at you. You’re shaking."
I held out his phone. It was heavy in my hand.
"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice cracked, raw from crying silently for hours.
Knox went still. His eyes flicked to the phone, then back to my face. He didn't pretend he didn’t know what this was about. He just straightened, his expression hardening into that protective mask I knew so well.
"You went through my phone," he stated. It wasn't an accusation, just a fact.
"The notifications light nonstop," I rasped. "I saw the logs. I heard the voicemails."
He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't tell you because there was no utility in you knowing. It’s noise, Florian. Malicious, desperate noise from a man who has lost his grip."
"He's threatening you!" I stepped into the room. "He’s talking about lawyers. About grooming. He’s calling you a predator."
"He can call me whatever he likes," Knox said calmly. "My legal team is already handling it. You're an adult, and you consent to being here. A cease and desist was delivered to his bedside this morning. If he persists, we will pursue a restraining order."
"How did he even get your number?"
"Because I am the one paying his bills," Knox said evenly. "My information is on his admission forms."
"You're paying for him to harass you," I choked out, feeling the absurdity of it. "You're paying thousands of dollars for the privilege of being threatened by my father."
"I am paying to keep him contained," Knox corrected, taking a step toward me.
I backed away. I hit the island counter, trapped. "I'm just a burden," I whispered, the words tumbling out. "That's all I am. A stray you picked up off the street like a puppy. I live in your house, I eat your food, I spend your money, and in return? I bring you lawsuits and psychopaths."
"Florian, stop."
"I give you nothing!" I said, tears spilling over. "I have nothing to give! I'm just a drain on your life. You should have left me at the shelter. You should just... cut me loose before I ruin everything."
Knox moved. He crossed the kitchen fast. He didn't grab me; he enveloped me. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me hard against his chest, crushing the breath out of me in the best way possible.
"Silence," he commanded, his voice rough with emotion. "Do not ever speak about yourself that way again."
I tried to push him away, my hands bunching in the silk of his robe. "It's true..."
"It is a lie," he growled. He pulled back just enough to frame my face, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were burning, intensely. "You think this is a transaction? You think I am keeping a ledger? You foolish boy."
His thumbs wiped away the tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I told you so many times before. My life was gray before you," he whispered fiercely.
"It was orderly and successful and completely empty.
You brought color back into my world. You brought chaos, yes, but you brought life.
Coming home to you, caring for you, watching you thrive...
that is the only payment I will ever require. "
"But Finn..."
"Finn is a mosquito," Knox said dismissively. "I am a mountain. He cannot move me. And he certainly cannot make me regret you. I care so little about him that I don’t even consider him a threat. I don’t even remember he exists. My team is handling him just like they handle other nuisances for me."
I stared at him, stunned by how convinced he sounded. He wasn’t just saying it. He believed it, absolutely. I wanted to believe him. I wanted, more than anything for it to be true.
He pressed his forehead to mine, and for a moment his voice was just a breath. "I will not lose you to his poison. I will not lose you to your own doubts. You are the most precious thing in my world, Florian. I would raze cities for you. Do you understand?"
I did. I did, but it was too much, all at once, and the part of me that had been starving for this kind of unconditional care started to scream.
I clung to him then, holding on so tight that my knuckles ached.
I sobbed, ugly, heaving gasps. He didn't shush me or try to hush the tears away.
He just held me, his hand braced at the nape of my neck, his lips pressed into my hair.
When I finally stuttered into silence, he pulled back and cupped my cheek. "Do you believe me?" he asked.
I nodded, shaky. "I want to," I whispered.
"Then do." His thumb traced under my eye, gentle. "Let the man who failed you burn in hell. I would see him there myself, but I think watching you thrive will be a punishment far greater than anything I could inflict."
I snorted a desperate laugh, and the panic receded a little. I could breathe.
He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. Then another, softer, beneath my eye. "Never doubt for a second that you belong here," he said. "You are not my burden. You are my reason."
I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to say it in a thousand languages, to tattoo it on every inch of my skin, to scream it loud enough to drown out my father’s voice forever. Instead, I just nodded and let myself be held.
"Go shower," Knox said, after a while. His voice was steadier, back to its calm authority. "I’ll make you breakfast again. Today is a fresh start."