Page 44 of Knox Unleashed
“King said you got someone like Vex who could help us out with running down the partial plate.”
“Wren’s trained by Calista, Vex’s old lady,” Grudge says. “Best hacker there is. Send it. I’ll ask them.”
“Sounds good. Call me if you think of anything.”
We exchange a few further logistics, say our goodbyes, and hang up as I lean back in my chair. We’re still no closer to finding out why the men are here asking questions, and I should go out and speak to my men, but instead, I look out the window, over the water, in the direction of Maren’s store.
And wonder why I’m suddenly feeling like I could be a faithful guy, if I tried.
16
MAREN
The business that I usually love has felt hollow all afternoon, and I’m furious because I know the reason is nothing to do with me and everything to do with my father’s assessment of the place this morning.
The storm has moved on, and the sun has finally reappeared, but the air still carries that damp, metallic smell it always leaves behind. I’ve always thought of it as the scent of nature’s wounds. Wet mud and salt. Rotting marsh grass stirred up from the wetlands.
Leo, along with Callum and Jessie, two of my regular airboat captains, made quick work of cleaning up the property and setting the business straight again.
The chairs are back out on the deck outside the store. The shutters are removed.
We only moved one of the airboats back out, for now, just so any potential customers can see it sitting on the dock and know we’re open for business.
I smile when I need to. Make small talk because it’s expected.
Men like that don’t love. They use. You were an easy lay when there weren’t any other options around. And what betterway to get at me, to get under my skin, than to sleep with my daughter.
When I contrast it to the warmth of Knox’s body behind me in bed, the weight of his arm around my waist, the way his hands moved over me like I was something worth treasuring…I feel like my insides have been scraped raw.
Every single time I think about a good part, I hear my father’s voice telling me I’ve been played.
I’m not sure that’s the kind of man Knox is, and I know how manipulative my father can be. And yet, belief and doubt aren’t exactly asking my permission before they take up space in my brain.
By late afternoon, the shop is so quiet that I send Leo and the others home. They’ve got their own mess at their own places to clear up too. And there’s no point in us all standing around waiting for the jingle of the bell above the door.
I’m counting the register when I finally hear a motorcycle engine. And when the jingle of the bell finally rings out through the store, I quickly tuck what little cash is in my hand back into the drawer.
“Hey,” I say, finally looking up.
Knox doesn’t move like anyone I know. His presence shifts the air as his boots thud on the floor. He doesn’t say anything, at first. He just stands there like he can’t remember why he came.
Finally, he runs a hand through his wind-blown hair, and his eyes settle on mine. “We need to talk.”
My mouth is dry, parched, even. I swallow painfully. “We do?”
He nods, and I slide the register drawer closed before resting my palms on the counter. I wish I could play this cool, but even as my brain tries to reconcile the million and one things he could be about to say, my body remembers what it felt like to be kissed by this man.
He nods. “We do.”
Then, I remember. “Did you tell my father I’m not his little girl anymore?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I did.”
I didn’t expect confirmation. I expected a denial. Something I’d have to try and reconcile with my father’s version of events. One where I could call my father a liar, with Knox’s denial as evidence.
“The 1960s called, they want your version of misogyny back. That a woman is only property to be passed between one man and another.”
The corner of Knox’s mouth twitches in an arrogant smile. “Never said you were mine. Just said you weren’t his anymore. Some would call that feminism.”
