Chapter Seven
KNOX
“So what exactly am I supposed to do?” I keep walking up the steps to the office as I think about how best to explain what we need cause the long and short of it is we need her to take over the fucking office side of things.
I’m a little nervous for her to see the mess up here, but it is what it is at this point. My fingers are crossed that she doesn’t go running for the hills.
She spent the morning with Thorn running errands and picking up parts from one of our local vendors, and according to him, she seemed excited about helping us grow Saints Customs.
“It’s almost quitting time, but if you could start sorting the office tomorrow, that would be a huge help.” Once I hit the top step, I hold my breath and move aside so she can take a look at what is going on up here. It’s a lot, but I know G likes a challenge.
“Oh. My. God.” Her eyes blink rapidly as her head slowly swivels around the room.
“I know it’s bad,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. That’s really an understatement. It’s not just bad, it fucking insane.
In our defense, we know mechanics, not how to maintain an office. Thorn and I can rebuild a Fatboy with our eyes closed but ask us to figure out what to do with all the shit in this loft, and we’re fucking lost.
As I look at what she’s seeing: boxes overflowing with parts, invoices upon invoices scattered from one end of the office to the other, and old magazines, I decide I’ll wait to tell her about the scheduling and computer systems. They’re a fucking nightmare.
When her head finally swivels up at me, I know I’m not going to like whatever it is she’s about to say. “I don’t know what you had planned to pay me, but I want a raise.”
Turning back to the mess, I blow out a breath. Can’t say I didn’t see that coming. “Yeah. That’s —.” I hold up a finger when my phone starts ringing. My brows furrow seeing George’s number on the screen.
“Lo?”
“Crystal just dropped your boys off at your house. Normally, I wouldn’t think anything of it, but she also left three suitcases behind.” My heartbeat’s pounding in my ears as I try to process what he’s just said.
My fingers flex, and the phone in my hand creaks. “Say that one more time?” I ask calmly, trying to suppress my rage.
“Cryst—”
“Fuuuuck!” I roar, rearing my arm back and launching my phone across the room like a missile. The device explodes on impact, and bits of plastic and glass go flying everywhere, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“I’m going to snap that bitch’s fucking neck!” I yell, clenching my fists.
“Knox?” My name rolls off G’s lips timidly, and I vaguely register the fear on her face as I turn on my heels and jog down the steps.
“Knox! Knox! Wait!” I ignore her shouting as I stalk out the front door. I can’t deal with her right now; my boys need me.
Throwing open the door to my truck, I slide behind the wheel and slam the door behind me.
My fists clench around the steering wheel as I think about the shit Crystal's been doing lately. If she thinks I’m going to let it continue, she’s out of her fucking mind.
Blowing out another breath, I twist the key in the ignition, and just as I put it in reverse, G yanks the passenger door open and climbs in beside me.
“Go back inside, G,” I growl.
“Where are you going? What’s happening?” When I hear the fear in her voice, I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“My kids need me,” is all I say.
“I’m coming with you.” She sounds less afraid and a hell of a lot more determined as she closes the door and secures her seatbelt. I don’t have time to argue with her, and judging by the look on her face, it’d be pointless anyway.
“Fine.” Putting the truck in reverse, I head toward home.
The ride is silent, and I’m grateful G doesn’t ask a million questions. I need the quiet to get my head right before I see my boys. Protecting them is my priority.
Ten minutes later, my gravel drive comes into view, and I carefully make the turn. When G pats my leg and points toward my house, I follow where her hand’s pointed and spot all three of my boys sitting shirtless on my front porch.
Fucking, Crystal.
My eyes jump to their suitcases scattered about at the foot of the deck, and I tilt my head from left to right. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do a damn thing to ease my tension.
“Dad!” Bentley and Brantley shout, jumping off the deck after us as I pull my truck into the garage.
I kill the engine and slide out just as the twins collide into my chest. My eyes close. I’ll never know what the hell I saw in their mother.
I look up, and Braydon’s nowhere to be seen, clearly too cool to act excited or follow his little brothers. I hear the other truck door close and head to grab the boys’ bags.
“You okay?” I ask Brantley as his twin takes off running.
As if in slow motion, Bentley stumbled and almost bites the dust but is luckily saved when Braydon reaches out to stop him before he can eat concrete.
“Jesus, Bent,” G says shakily. When I look over my shoulder, G's arms are crossed on top of her head, and her face is completely flushed.
My lips twitch before finally I lose it and full-out laugh. She’s adorable when she gets all flustered over the kids—something she does often, seeing as the clubhouse is starting to become overrun by them.
“Don’t laugh, Knox! He could have gotten hurt,” she snaps, making my eyes widen at the aggression in her tone. She’s right. He could have, but he’s a clumsy kid. All the same, I love the way she cares about my boys.
“I’m okay, G. Where have you been?” Bentley laughs.
“I moved into a new apartment, but I’m going to be working for your dad now, so maybe we’ll get to see each other more,” she says, giving him her undivided attention.
“G!” Brantley hollers, elbowing past his twin and wrapping his skinny arms around her.
“Hey, Brant,” she giggles, hugging him back. “How’s the remote-control truck build coming along?” I’m mesmerized by the way her face is lit up as she pushes the hair out of his eyes.
This woman.
“I’m almost done. Do you want to see it? Dad, unlock the door so I can show G my truck.” His hair falls right back into his eyes when he swings his head around excitedly.
“Here, bud.” I barely hand Brantley the keys before he latches onto G’s hand and tugs.
The sound of her giggle as she’s hauled to the front door with Bentley hot on their heels is music to my ears.
“Braydon, your mom dropped y’all off?” I ask my oldest, now that his little brothers are out of earshot.
“Yeah.” When he turns around, I’m glad to see the black eye he got a few days ago is almost gone.
“Did she say anything when she left?” I don’t care that they’re here.
I’m pissed that Crystal didn’t call me to say she was dropping them off.
She fucking left them out here alone in this dangerous heat and judging by the suitcases, she’s not planning on coming back anytime soon, which suits me just fucking fine.
“No, but she’s been acting weird since she started dating Spider.”
My head whips around. “Who the hell is Spider?” Crystal and I have an agreement. Any man she intends to bring around my boys has to be okayed by me.
Braydon shrugs his shoulders.
Fuck. I take a deep breath and force myself to relax. This isn’t on my son to keep up with what his worthless fucking mom is doing.
I relax my shoulders, and I wrap my arm around the back of his neck, jostling him from side to side. I hate he’s had to carry so much burden on his shoulders when it comes to his mom. My eyes dart to the door, then back down to Bray. “It’ll be okay, yeah?”
He looks up and grins. “Yeah.”
“Come on, let’s go make sure your brothers aren’t driving G up the wall,” I joke, giving his neck another squeeze and letting him go.
His grin widens. “She likes it, Dad.”
My own lips turn up. He’s not wrong. G loves all the club kids; my wild boys are no exception.
Pulling open the front door, I usher Braydon inside, and the first thing I see is G with her hands on her hips, looking down at Brantley as he begs for food. “Will you cook us some lasagna?”
My eyes shift from G to Brantley to Bentley. Brant is eating up the way G's looking at him, and Bentley is watching his brother and G. My boys don’t get soft and sweet from Crystal.
“Sweetie, there is nothing in the world I’d rather do than make you lasagna.” Brantley beams, soaking up her affection.
“What about some of those cookies you made for Xavier?” Bentley throws in, adding to their order.
My eyes ping-pong back to her, already knowing the answer. “Yep!” she chirps, “and you’re gonna help me make ‘em.”
Braydon looks up at me and lifts a brow as if to say, see, I told you she loves this shit.
I roll my eyes.
“Let’s see if your dad has everything I’ll need on hand. If not, I’ll have to run to the store to get the stuff to make it.”
I watch as this beautiful woman rummages through the cabinets, looking for something to feed my boys, knowing she’s not going to find a lick of food in that fridge. I wasn’t expecting the boys for another week, and when it’s just me to look after, I eat at the clubhouse.
As she continues to ramble on to the boys about what they’ll need, a warm feeling starts to settle in my belly. It’s a good, clean feeling that I’m not used to, and to be honest, I want more of it.
Bray leans against my side, and I look down to watch him watching them just like Bent had done. Seems like we're all affected by this beautiful woman.
When I look back up, images of her in my house, barefoot with my baby growing in her belly flash through my mind. I can see it clear as day — her, me, the boys — us, a growing family. My eyes widen when I realize I want that.
“Knox? Do you have a pantry somewhere?” she asks, eyes still trained on the empty cabinets in front of her.
“I don’t have the stuff for that here. I usually eat at the clubhouse, and we tend to eat out when the boys are here.”
She opens the fridge and wrinkles her nose. I lean to the side and see old containers from last week.
“Dad’s not a good cleaner,” Brant says helpfully.
Her head dips to Brantley, who’s studiously standing at her side. “I can see that.”
After closing it, she surveys the rest of the kitchen and then the rest of the open first-floor area. I know what she’s seeing and cringe a little.
Much like the shop, my place is a wreck. In my defense, I’m not around much to keep the place tidy. And since the boys are usually only around on weekends, they prefer to hang out at the clubhouse so they can swim in the pool.
“Uhh … How about we run to the store, and I can cook you guys a nice dinner,” she offers, tossing an expired gallon of milk into the garbage can.
“Yes!” Brantley shouts, throwing his fist in the air.
“Oh yeah!” Bray whispers.
“Please, Dad!” Bentley yells, clasping his hands together under his chin.
Well, shit. Looks like convincing them we should order a pizza is out of the question.
“You’re outnumbered, sweetheart.” G smiles.
That good, clean feeling presses in, warming my chest with the endearment.
“Ye—” I clear my throat. “Yeah. I figured as much.”
My boys smile, and G’s face softens more.
Bray was right. She loves this shit, and even though I hate shopping, I’d go to the store every fucking day to keep these smiles on everyone’s faces.
“Boys, start on your homework while G and I are gone, yeah?”
“Aww,” the twins grumbled.
“You guys get started, and when I get back, we’ll make my famous chocolate chip cookies,” G says, hugging the twins before she moves by me toward the door.
“Fine,” they complain at the same time, in complete twin sync. Sometimes, it’s eerie the way they say the same thing at the exact same time. Kierra and Sierra are close, but I don’t think their bond is the same as the boys’.
“Don’t be a baby,” Braydon teases, trying to snap them out of their fit. I grin. There’s nothing like a big brother calling you out to make you want to prove him wrong.
“Listen to your brother while we’re gone,” I say, pointing at the twins, who’ve already gotten their schoolwork out.
“We will.”
“I’ve got my phone if you need me.”
“We’re fine, Dad.” He sighs.
Throwing my hands up in surrender, I head for the door. I’m not sure when my boys became so self-sufficient, but damn, if it doesn’t hurt a little, knowing they don’t need me as much.