Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Knox swept a hand through his hair, hoping it looked presentable and not like he had spent the past two nights on the couch. His temper was rapidly fraying, and the suit he had been living in was long overdue for a wash. Thank God he kept spare undershirts and button-ups there just in case.
Admittedly, he had been a coward, refusing to go home and risk seeing Everleigh again.
After the incident on Tuesday, he had stormed back into the house and spent the night tossing and turning.
For the past two days, he had practically locked himself in his office, spending every waking moment working as much as possible.
He would have to go home eventually. He wasn't going to let her run him out of his own house. But he wasn't quite ready yet. He focused on the file in front of him, but his mind kept drifting.
The office door opened then closed, and he lifted his gaze to meet Mason’s. He cocked a brow. “Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Knox repressed a sigh. What else could go wrong right now? “Whatcha need?”
Mason slipped into the chair across from him and eyed him for several seconds. “I noticed you stayed here last night.” He paused. “And the night before.”
That wasn't at all what Knox expected. He remained quiet and stone-faced as Mason continued, “I don't think Vivi noticed.”
Well, thank God for small favors. If she caught wind of him sleeping in his office, Knox would never hear the end of it. “And?”
Mason’s tawny eyes drilled into Knox’s, and he fought the urge to squirm. Those unsettling eyes had always had the power to set his teeth on edge. He prided himself on keeping calm, but right now he was close to snapping.
“I love your sister.” Another topic Knox hadn't expected. “But I think you know that.”
Reluctantly, Knox nodded. “I do.”
“So it's because of her that I say this. I had no idea I needed her in my life. Everything was fine the way it was but... She makes me a better man. If I lost her...”
Knox’s throat tightened as he watched Mason’s expression morph into one of pain. “I don't know what I'd do. It would crush me.”
“I know.” Knox’s voice was gruff, and he forced down the emotion clogging his throat.
She was his baby sister, and he would do anything for her.
But Mason loved her in a way he couldn't, and he knew Mason would literally put his life on the line for her. A little over two months ago, he’d taken a bullet for her.
If that wasn’t love, Knox didn’t know what was.
“When you find someone you love, I think you need to fight for it.”
It felt like Mason had ripped the ground right out from under Knox’s feet. Every cell of his body froze as he stared at him. “Think you're an expert now?”
“No.” Mason shook his head, gaze never leaving Knox’s. “Just want to see you happy.”
“I appreciate your concern but—”
“You called for her.”
Those golden eyes bored into Knox’s, sending a spidery sensation crawling over his skin. It always seemed like Mason saw too much, and this case was apparently no different.
“I'm sorry?” What was he talking about?
“Six years ago,” he said, reading Knox’s mind. “You got drunk, and I took you back to the barracks.”
Oh, God. Knox remembered that day. He had been messing around online, skimming the internet for her name the way he occasionally did. Rarely, if ever, did anything come up. But that day her name was a headline in black and white, linked to another man as they celebrated their recent nuptials.
He wasn’t entirely sure what happened after that. He remembered hitting the bar and tossing back drinks, wondering just how many he’d have to ingest to take away the pain. The next thing he remembered was waking up in his bed the following morning, his head and heart aching in equal measure.
“You called out for her then. I know you still care for her.” Knox’s body vibrated with barely restrained fury as Mason continued. “I don't know—”
“You're right. You don't know anything,” Knox spat as he stood abruptly, sending the chair rolling backward and slamming into the wall behind him. He didn't spare it a second thought as he leaned over the desk and glared at Mason.
He knew nothing about Knox’s situation with Everleigh. “You have no idea what happened, so you can save your psychobabble.”
Mason rose slowly, his eyes locked on Knox’s.
It pissed Knox off even more to see the tinge of sympathy there.
He didn't want Mason’s pity. He didn't want anything.
He refused to discuss this. As rage overflowed every cell of his body, he swiped up his keys and phone, not bothering with the files.
They could wait. He rounded his desk, intent on leaving. But Mason just had to keep pushing.
“Just think about it.”
“There's nothing to think about.” Knox whirled toward him. “There is nothing that can fix what happened. Nothing.”
Mason nodded. “Okay.”
He said it to pacify Knox, like he didn't believe it. Knox was too pissed to stand there and debate it with him, and he stormed toward the door.
“Just so you know,” Mason said to Knox’s retreating back, “he came for her again.”
Knox’s steps halted, and he threw a look over his shoulder at him. “What are you talking about?”
Mason crossed his arms over his chest. “Our photographer has escalated. Everleigh went for a run yesterday, and a car came up behind her, ran her off the road.”
The thought immediately made Knox see red. “Why am I just now learning about this?”
“You haven’t exactly been receptive for the past couple of days.” Mason shrugged. “I took her to the police station this morning to make a statement. I just thought you should be aware.”
Aware of what? That he had let her down again? Without another word, Knox threw open the door and stormed out, passing by his sister without a glance. He drove home in a cloud of rage, Mason’s words playing on repeat and taking up residence in his mind. I know you still care about her.
He slid to a stop in the driveway and hopped out, slamming the door behind him harder than necessary.
Inside the house, he ripped off his suit jacket and tossed it over the couch, then made a beeline for the fridge.
He grabbed a beer, popped the top, and downed it.
Another dozen of those and maybe it would begin to dull the pain.
But he knew from experience it wouldn't.
His fingers itched for the familiar weight of a cigarette, and he could practically taste it, feel the calm spreading through his body as the nicotine hit his system. No. He refused to give in that easily, just as he refused to let Everleigh burrow under his skin.
There was hardly a childhood memory that didn't involve her.
He had loved her so much. And she had broken him.
He despised her so much for that, and he hated himself for still wanting her.
She had walked right back into his life like she deserved to be there, and it enraged him.
A metallic clang filled the air as he threw the empty can in the trash.
He shoved open the back door, heedless of the way it slammed in its frame.
It was just one more thing he’d need to fix.
He drew in a deep breath as he stared out at the line of trees circling the backyard, skimming the backyard and the woods beyond for any sign of Everleigh.
But everything was silent and still. He didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing.
Part of him was relieved that she had followed his instructions and stayed away. The other part of him was disappointed.
He was furious with himself for even entertaining the thought.
It was unacceptable to even be the slightest bit disappointed at her absence.
The woman affected him too much as it was, and the rage inside him boiled over, exploding into an inferno.
The love that could have spanned a lifetime had instead been cut short by the ultimate betrayal.
And it had all started with that stupid tree.
His gaze slid to the pile of kindling stacked by the back door, the ax propped against the side of the house.
Irrational hurt and anger bubbling in his veins, he snatched up the ax and stormed toward the forest. He might not be able to get rid of Everleigh physically, but he couldn't bear to live like this anymore.
He was going to cut her out of his life once and for all, get rid of every reminder of the things they had shared.
Dead leaves and pine needles crunched softly beneath his boots as he headed deeper into the woods, his body moving on autopilot.
Then suddenly it was before him. He stood in front of the oak tree and stared at the decades-old carving.
He hated this tree and everything it represented: the best moments of his life, but also the worst.
Hefting the ax over his shoulder, he swung as hard as he could. The blade embedded itself in the hard wood, and he wrenched it free. Re-positioning it, he swung again. And again.
Splinters flew into the air as he chopped at the tree, each strike cutting away the wood and clawing at his heart.
A strange feeling welled up inside him. He didn't remember crying at his parents' funeral, but he couldn't hold it back anymore. A hot trail slid down his cheek, and he lifted his face to the sky just as a raindrop splashed onto his cheek. Shame and guilt swirled in his gut. The heavens were crying too—either for what he had lost or what he had just done, he wasn’t sure.
He dropped the ax. “It wasn't my fault!”
The rain picked up, falling harder than before, and an agonized sound welled up from his throat.
Grasping the hair at the back of his head, he bent at the waist and vented his rage.
The howl spiraling toward the sky was almost indiscernible over the blood rushing in his ears, and he dropped to his hands and knees as all of the pent-up anger and hurt he had been holding back for two decades left his body on a ragged scream.
His agony. His utter despair. He punched the soft ground over and over, praying it would take the pain away. It didn’t.
She had done this. She had broken them. Why couldn't she just stay away? He was so mad at her. For coming home. For reigniting all those old feelings. For making him realize once again that she was the only woman he would ever love.
How was it possible to loathe someone, yet love them so much it hurt? He would have done anything she asked of him—he still would. Even after everything she had done, he knew he would never get over her.
It was torture, being in limbo like this.
Loving her but not being able to have her.
Unable to forgive, to forget, to put the past behind him.
He wanted there to be an explanation. But he knew there wasn’t.
He remembered every second of that day—the way she had cut his heart out with a handful of words.
He couldn’t help loving her, but he wouldn’t give her any more power over him.
Snatching up the ax, he resumed chopping.
Wood chips flew and scattered around the base of the tree, but he didn't stop, even when the rain came harder and harder, pummeling the earth.
Thunder boomed overhead, yet he didn't pause.
He took out all of his frustration on the tree because he would never be able to hurt Everleigh.
He already hated himself for saying what he had the other day, and it had nearly broken his heart.
A soft cry jerked his attention to the left, and he froze. Everleigh stood a dozen feet away, tears running down her cheeks and mingling with the raindrops that fell from the sky.
“What are you doing?”
The sheer desperation and disappointment tingeing her voice stung his soul, but he forced himself to harden. “What I should have done a long time ago.”
“Please don't do this,” she begged as he resumed hacking away at the tree. “Stop! Knox!”
He threw down the ax and faced her head-on, anger ripping through him. He was exhausted, but adrenaline spurred him on. “Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me?”
Everleigh’s lips parted to speak, but a terrifyingly loud crack cut her off. Every cell in Knox’s body went on alert as a second crack followed the first. In slow motion, he watched the tree shift and begin to fall… right toward Everleigh.
Oh, God. “No!”
Fear took hold, and the word left his mouth on a scream. Knowing there was no way he could stop it, he threw himself toward her just as the tree collapsed.