HIS GYMNAST

DARCY ROSE

BL MUTE

CONTENTS

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

About Darcy

About BL

Also by Darcy Rose

BLURB

Aria’s dream was to be a professional gymnast, and if it hadn’t been for a freak accident a couple of years ago, she would’ve been. Now she teaches little girls at the local dance studio, working two jobs to help her parents pay the medical debt from her accident.

Life at home is horrible, and her stepfather does everything he can to remind her of the mistake she is. She wonders if she’ll ever escape this life?

Then she meets him…

Knox Hale isn’t a hero. He’s the monster from your nightmares. When a beautiful young woman comes to him needing help, he finds it hard to say no to her. That is, until she offers herself as payment, and suddenly, the idea of keeping the shy, quiet, sexy woman might be worth it.

1

A ria

“MS. ARIA, I want to show you my cartwheel!” Sophie exclaims as she and three other little girls circle around me. All I can do is smile and look down at their angelic faces.

Little angels. Young and beaming with joy.

“Let’s stretch, and then you can show me,” I reply. The girls rush to their spots on the mats. Even when I’m having a bad day, I come here and can’t help but smile. These little girls mean the world to me, and I love teaching gymnastics, even if I’ll never compete again.

Once upon a time, I had big dreams. I was going to attend Georgia University on a scholarship for gymnastics. I’d trained hard and worked my butt off from the time I was a little girl all the way through high school.

In my junior year of high school, during my floor exercise for nationals, I did a backflip. When I came down, my footing was off. I landed hard, tore my ACL, and fractured my spine. I’m lucky to even be alive and able to walk.

The thoughts of my past evaporate into thin air when I step in front of the girls.

“It’s time to stretch,” I tell the ten little girls, each standing in their own square.

I go through the stretches, and afterward, Sophie gleefully shows me her cartwheel, which she has been practicing for weeks now.

“Good job!” I clap my hands.

Sophie’s smile grows, and the rest of the girls start practicing their cartwheels. It’s not much to teach here and is nothing like the training I endured in high school, but it keeps me busy and happy.

I’m thankful Lisa offered me the job over the summer.

We work on tumbling next, and by the time we get done with that, the thirty-minute session is over. It’s hard to keep a smile on my face and even harder to keep the dread from churning in my gut when I know what’s coming next.

Parents scurry inside to pick up their children. I wave goodbye to my students, and the dread mounts once I’m alone. Most would love to go home at the end of the day, but I’m not one of those people. I’d rather be anywhere else, but I have nowhere else to go.

I grab my water bottle, purse, and jacket. There are still a few classes in session, and I slip through the crowd of parents congregating in the waiting room near the office. It’s too bad I still have a twenty-minute bus ride home and then a two-block walk because I’m tired as hell. Working three jobs is not helping matters either, but I have no choice.

The cool night air whips through my hair the moment I step out of the dance studio. I shiver and pull my jacket on as I walk to the bus stop. Like clockwork, the bus arrives at the same time it always does, and I place my money into the meter as I climb on.

I enjoy the silence that surrounds me on the way home, especially since I know what will happen if Dale, my stepdad, is awake when I arrive. Sometimes he’s sleeping by the time I get home, though it’s on rare occasions.

The bus ride goes by way too fast, and I begrudgingly step off and on to the street. My mother and stepdad live in a nice residential area, so I’m not all that worried as I walk the two blocks to the house. The house is huge, a two-story with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. It’s a home that’s meant for a family, something I don’t have. I don’t even have the luxury of sleeping in one of the bedrooms.

My room is in the basement—a cold and dark space where I sleep on a cot and use a bucket to pee in. The reminder of what my life is like makes me want to turn and run the other way.

Tightening my grip on my purse, I walk up the front steps and say a silent prayer, hoping Dale has drunk himself into a coma by now. I’ll keep praying until the day it happens. My hands tremble as they always do when I let myself into the house. I try to move as quietly as possible, making a beeline for the basement door so I’m not seen or heard by anyone.

That’s my plan until my stomach rumbles so loudly I’m sure the next-door neighbors can hear it. I place a hand over my angry belly and try to think back to the last time I ate something? Yesterday, maybe? When I was at the restaurant?

I don’t allow myself to think long about it and make a plan to get food and into the basement as soon as possible. The last thing I need for my mental sanity is to have a run-in with my stepdad. The kitchen is dark, except for a small light above the sink.

How is it that I can be in my own home, where I should feel safe and warm, but feel neither of those things?

My fingers close around the cool stainless-steel handle of the fridge, and I’m a millisecond from pulling the door open when a hand slams against the door, startling me. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. I release the handle and drop my hand, bringing it to my chest. The organ races inside, threatening to burst from my chest.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The cruel edge of his voice slices through me. Dale is not a good or kind man. When he and my mother first got married, I thought he was the nicest guy on the planet. He would take me to the park, and we would go camping. We were a true, real family. After my injury, everything changed.

Overnight, he became a nightmare that I could never escape.

“I-I’m hungry. I was just getting something to eat,” I stutter. Anxiety coils in my gut, overwhelming the hunger I was previously feeling. I should’ve gone downstairs. I should’ve ignored the hunger.

Dale’s grim face twists, and his lips curl with rage. A shiver runs down my spine. I know that look. It’s the one that gets me beaten.

“Your mother and I have decided you can’t eat here anymore. If you’re hungry, you’ll have to eat before you come home.”

It’s impossible for me to hide my shock, and my mouth pops open. “What do you mean, I’ll have to eat before I come home? I give you my entire paycheck every week. This is the only place I can eat. I have no money.”

A low simmering rage fills his beady eyes, and I should expect the hits and words to come, but for some reason, tonight I don’t. Maybe the shock of what he’s said has gone to my head. I don't know. But I don't see the fist flying toward my face until it’s too late.

His knuckles land against my cheek, and pain explodes across my face. Dale isn’t a big man—he’s short with a little beer belly—but he’s a man nevertheless, and his strength is far greater than mine.

I blink back the tears, mainly because crying has never made him stop. If anything, he wants my tears. He wants to see me in pain.

Grabbing me by the hair, he drags me across the kitchen. My scalp burns, and I struggle to get out of his grasp. I can feel the strands of hair being ripped from my head.

“Please, Dale, please… I'm sorry, please… I’m just hungry.” I try to reason with him, but there is no reasoning with someone who only wants to hurt you.

“You’re such a selfish bitch. A brat who only thinks of herself. You deserve to starve! Your mother and I have done more than enough for you,” he growls in my face. His breath smells like beer, and my stomach churns, acid rising up my throat at the smell.

“You should be fucking grateful we even allow you to live here. If it was my choice, you’d be on the street. Maybe then you could find a way to pay us back.”

I hear the door to the basement creak open. My scalp is screaming, and my cheek aches from his punch. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stop myself from whimpering.

It’ll be over soon, I say to myself as he shoves me down the stairs. I land on my ass seconds before he closes the door in my face, enveloping me in the dark.

2

K  nox

“WHAT IS it you need from him?” I ask my brothers, looking at the poor bastard tied to the chair in front of me. The skin above his brow is already split, oozing blood, as the same bright red liquid runs down his chin from his nose.

Kane smirks and scoffs. “He knows what we need, but he isn’t talking. Figured having you come help would get us results.”

I smile at his indication as Cash nods in agreement.

I’ve known I was different my whole life. When you look at the rest of my family, they at least look halfway normal and express emotions regularly. Sure, it takes a lot for that to happen, but the point is, it happens. For me, the only thing I seem to let people see is rage. And I don’t mean the petty, screaming, or throwing things type of anger.

When I get angry, it’s like a supernova. It builds slowly until it has nowhere else to go, and I snap. I fucking explode. I think I may give that impression, too, with my raven hair, muscular body, tall frame, and dark ink painting over eighty percent of my skin.

I’m the type of person people don’t look twice at because they know if they do, they’re liable to get their neck snapped. Hopefully, the guy in the chair can see that too, because I don’t like playing fucking games or waiting around. If he doesn’t want to give the twins what they want, no doubt, they’ll get it from somewhere else.

There is always a backup plan.

I tilt my head from side to side, stretching my neck, then step closer to the man. “Tell them what they want.”

He shakes his head slowly with a smile. “Fuck you.” He spits, but the only thing that comes out is splatters of blood.

I suck in a deep breath. This motherfucker is strong. He’s already taken a beating from the twins, and now he’s refusing me. I almost want to clap him on the back and congratulate him for being a badass, but no one is as tough and ruthless as we are.

When I exhale, I slip my hand inside my pocket and grab my trusty switchblade. Most people carry guns, but I like to teeter on the edge of danger too much for that. Before my dad died, this is what he gave me. He knew I liked being up close and personal with the poor motherfuckers who crossed me. I like seeing someone’s life slip from their eyes and hear them take their last breath.

Too bad the poor soul in front of me has to experience that, but I don’t ponder on that for long. If someone in the family needs something, you give it to them. If you don’t, your fate is sealed without a second thought.

I bring the knife in front of the man's face with a smile and hit the button, sending the blade shooting out the top. Most styles are just one smooth, long, shiny blade that’s sharp on both sides, but dad had this custom-made for me.

I only bring it out when I intend to kill, so with that in mind, he had a blacksmith forge it with divots on each edge like two nice hooks. Hooks that’ll obliterate the insides of whoever it’s in with a few simple twists.

I glance over my shoulder to the twins with a shrug. “I tried.”

Turning back around, I lean over slightly, just enough to hold the guy by one shoulder as I bury my knife into his stomach. A gargled scream escapes him. His eyebrows shoot to his forehead as his small, dark eyes grow to saucers.

“I told you to give them what they wanted,” I remark, twisting the blade in its place.

I stay level with him, retracting my knife and plunging it back in until the little bit of life he had in his eyes disappears and blood pools on the floor around our feet.

“Damn, Knox,” Kane starts. “I was hoping to get something out of the dude before you killed him.”

Cash laughs next to him. “He wasn’t going to talk. Knox just did what we would have had to do.”

“Exactly.” I wipe the blade on my pants, cleaning off the man’s blood as best I can. “Call the cleanup crew so we can go grab some dinner.”

Kane nods, whipping his phone from his pocket as Cash and I exit the old industrial building and walk to the alley. We strip out of our clothes in silence and throw them into the rusty barrel on the right. When Kane appears in the alley, he does the same.

We soak all of our bloodstained clothes in gasoline before striking a match and setting them on fire. Once the smoke is thick, billowing over the buildings, we head to my car and slip on the clean clothes I keep stashed in my trunk.

“What’s the ETA of cleanup?” I ask, slipping into the driver's seat.

“Less than five,” Kane replies, sliding into the back as Cash takes the passenger seat.

I nod. “Perfect.” I smash my foot on to the accelerator and head for Rigatoni’s.

I pull up to the front of the restaurant, then slide into a parallel parking space on the street. Rigatoni’s is a little Italian bistro in the heart of downtown with the best pasta and drinks. After our first time here, it quickly turned into a favorite spot. The people know not to burden us with stupid small talk and always seat us in the back corner.

We all exit the vehicle and stroll through the front door. The hostess at the front, Amy, recognizes us immediately and leads us to the back table with three menus tucked into her hands.

As we pass all of the other already seated customers, every set of eyes flick to the floor. Everyone knows who we are and what we do.

“Aria will be out shortly to get your order.” She gives us a meek smile, keeping her eyes pointed at the ground as she lays the menus on the table before scurrying back to the front.

As we take our seats in our usual spot, Kane and Cash scan the menus, which seems pointless since we’re all creatures of habit. We always order the same dishes and drinks. We like the routine.

Movement at the front of the restaurant grabs my attention. I zero in my stare to the hostess who just seated us, talking to a waitress. I only know she works here because of the red button-down she has on with the Rigatoni’s logo embroidered on the chest. I watch as the hostess talks before she turns back to our table and points.

The waitress’s eyes follow her outstretched finger until they lock with mine. Normally, people can’t hold my gaze. It’s too cold. Too dark. But the thin brunette never lets her eyes falter from mine.

With squared shoulders, a thousand-watt smile, and determination in her steps, she starts toward us. When she finally stops at the edge of our table, she speaks, “Good evening. I’m Aria, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. What can I get you started with to drink?”

She whips out her little notepad and pen, then looks at me for an answer.

I tip my head and study her face. She’s beautiful and doesn’t look scared like most others when she looks at me. I’ve never seen her in here before. Her long brown hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders. Her thin frame houses the perfect amount of curves, and her hazel eyes shine with curiosity.

I know I should look away and ignore the want starting to pump through my veins, but I can’t. Something about this girl speaks to me—way past my exterior, through all my bones, and straight to the pit where my heart should be.

3

A ria

I’VE HEARD about the Hale brothers. They come here all the time, but I’ve never gotten their table before. I doubt the owner’s very happy the restaurant is the favorite spot for a bunch of criminals, but they never start trouble here and always spend a lot of money. I’ve heard they tip well, too.

I might even be glad to get their table if I was ever allowed to keep my tip money. Knowing I’ll have to hand it all over to Dale once I get home sort of puts a cloud over the whole thing.

It’s not my tip money I’m thinking of when I look over the table. One of them hasn’t taken his eyes off me since they first met mine. The way he’s staring at me should freak me out—I mean, I don’t know his name, but I know who he is. I’ve heard the rumors. I know what he is capable of. That, plus he’s already intimidating enough to look at, with all his ink and those dark, dangerous eyes of his.

I should be scared, but instead, my body is somehow drawn to him, like an invisible force pulling me closer. I must be going crazy. Maybe Dale knocked my head against the wall one too many times.

My hands sweat, making me grab the pen a little tighter. I can’t let any of them see how nervous they make me. I can’t lose my job because I pissed off the restaurant’s regulars. Plus, the inked-up one is kind of cute. Hot, even. He is also still staring at me. His eyes are glued to my face like he is memorizing every inch of it.

“Knox?” One of the brothers snaps his fingers when he hasn’t said anything yet. Knox. Interesting name.

Knox scowls at him. “Gin and tonic,” he tells me. I scribble that down before taking the other drink orders, then hustle over to the bar. I can feel Knox’s eyes on me the whole way. That would usually annoy me, but I’m used to it. There are certain things you learn to live with when you’re a waitress.

With him, though, it’s not even a matter of gritting my teeth and bearing it. It’s like a swarm of bees buzzing around in my stomach. I don’t mind at all.

For supposedly dangerous, scary guys, they’re nice to me while I take care of them, but then I’ve always heard they were respectful. Not like some people who act like going out to dinner means they have to be treated like royalty. Not to mention the messes some of them leave behind, messes which I have the displeasure of cleaning up. It makes me wonder if that’s how they act at home.

None of them has to look at the menu when it comes time to order their meals. Lasagna is our signature dish, and they are here all the time. I guess it makes sense. “Three lasagnas, and a triple order of garlic bread,” I repeat once they’re finished.

“And a platter of sausage and peppers,” Knox adds as I’m about to turn away.

One of his brothers laughs. They're twins, I realize. I didn’t take a good look at them when they first sat down, mostly because I was too busy wondering about Knox. Kane and Cash, if I remember correctly. “You worked up an appetite tonight.” His twin laughs along with him, and I can’t help but wonder what he means by that.

Knox doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t crack a smile. “I thought we could share it,” he says dryly.

Note to self—don’t try to joke with him. He must’ve been born without a sense of humor.

“One sausage and peppers, too.” I make sure to give him my widest smile because he’s the one I’m most interested in. I don’t know why I’m as drawn to him as I am. I don’t know why he stuck out at me the way he did the second I laid eyes on him.

I only know he’s the sort of guy who other men are afraid of…

An idea forms in my head like a spark in a dark night. Other men are afraid of people like the Hales. Men like Dale. I try to shove the idea out of my mind. That’s ridiculous. I can’t just ask a man I don’t know to help me. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.

Knox is someone who can help me. Somebody has to. I can’t spend the rest of my life this way. One day, Dale will go too far. One day, he’ll hit me just a little too hard or throw me down the stairs before I can prepare myself for the fall. Every time he hurts me, it’s one time closer to that last day. I’m living on borrowed time.

He’s a monster. The only thing that can stop him is another monster. One who’s bigger than he is.

I think I might’ve found the perfect candidate—now, all I have to do is get up the courage to ask if he’ll help me. I mean, how am I supposed to ask for help? You can’t just walk up to somebody and ask them to get rid of somebody for you.

Now that I’ve thought about it, I can’t get it out of my head. I have to get rid of Dale before he gets rid of me.

Knox stares at me when I drop off the garlic bread, when I refill their drinks, and when I bring out their entrees, complete with a steamy platter of sausage that smells good enough to make my mouth water. I wonder if they’ll be able to finish all of it, combined with the slabs of lasagna the line cooks plated for them. We don’t usually serve such huge pieces, but then not everybody is a Hale. Their drinks are a little fuller than the ones I usually serve, too.

Would it be wrong to see if I can sneak any leftovers for myself? I’m starving, even after eating the employee dinner the cooks left out for us.

It’s Dale’s fault you’re starving. My hand shakes a little when I place Knox’s plate in front of him. My eyes cut his way, and I notice him giving me a look. I wish I knew what it meant.

This might be my only chance. What if I don’t get their table again? What if I’m not here the next time he comes in? I have a couple of other tables to serve, but my thoughts won’t stop bouncing back and forth. Should I, or shouldn’t I? What can I even say to him?

They spend a little more than an hour eating and downing two more drinks each. Finally, one of the twins signals for the check, and I know it’s now or never. I have to find a way to pull Knox aside. Maybe I could slide him a note or something.

“Miss? Miss!” A woman at one of my other tables waves her arms over her head, looking like she found a pube-covered roach in her food. Her expression is that horrified. I can only drop off the check with the Hales before hurrying over to see what’s worth freaking out over.

Of course, by the time the problem’s solved—she wanted ketchup to go with her chicken parmesan, which I can’t even begin to understand—Knox is halfway out the door, trailing his brothers. My heart sinks. Now that he’s almost gone, there’s no doubt in my mind that I need his help. It’s busy up front by the hostess stand, so I manage to sneak out without anybody noticing.

“Excuse me?” I burst out of the restaurant, hot on his heels. “Knox? Can I talk to you for a second?” He’s already halfway to a car parked near the corner with his brothers way in front of him. His head is moving back and forth like he’s looking out for danger.

He spins around once he hears me, tense and snarling. “What the fuck are you doing following us?” He faces me with his arms folded, and all of a sudden, I don’t think this was such a good idea. Sitting down, he was manageable. I was taller than him. I was in control of the situation.

Now? I’m a bug he could squash. And he looks like he wouldn’t mind doing that, towering over me the way he does, looking at me like he’s disgusted.

“Well?” he barks, and I jump. I hate myself for jumping, for showing how intimidated I am. “What, pissed you didn’t get a bigger tip?”

“What? No. It wasn’t that at all. I didn’t even clear the check off your table yet.” I fall back a step because this was the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. He was nice to me when he wanted to be sure I wouldn’t spit in his food, but this is now. “Forget it.”

“Wait.” His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. There’s an ugly bruise there, thanks to Dale, but it’s covered by my sleeve. That doesn’t mean I can’t feel it, though. I wince, sucking in air through my teeth before I can stop myself. It’s one of those uncontrollable reactions.

“Let me go,” I whisper, but he doesn’t. Instead, he yanks up my sleeve without even asking. He stares at the purple bruise, shaped like a hand, with finger marks and everything. I’m so ashamed. I want to crawl into a hole and die.

The one thing I’ve always made sure of was not letting anybody see the bruises. I know it’s not my fault—what he does to me—but I’m still ashamed.

I can only stare at the ground. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to know what he must think, like I’m weak or something. Like I can’t stand up for myself.

Knox’s voice sounds funny when he finally speaks. Tight. Like something’s squeezing his throat all of a sudden. “Who did this to you?”

And even now, I want to lie. It almost falls off my lips before I even think about it. I’m so used to trying to hide things and cover them up—not for Dale, but for me. It’s enough to make me laugh softly at myself.

Knox growls. “Tell me.” His hand tightens, and I wince again, harder this time.

“You’re hurting me.”

His eyes widen a little just before he lets go. “Why did you follow us out?” Somebody calls for him from the car, but he ignores them. He’s practically staring a hole through me. I wonder if he can even hear them.

I pull my sleeve down until it covers my hand, then tuck my arms close to my body. “I need help. Protection.”

“Protection?”

I nod, looking at the ground again. Now I wonder if this was a good idea or not. It seemed like it a few minutes ago, but something’s different now. He’s different. But I started this, so I might as well finish it. “Yeah. I don’t have any money, but I could pay you back. I promise. It’ll take a little time, but I swear, I’m good for it.”

He’s quiet for so long, I’d think he walked away if it wasn’t for the toes of his shoes staying in place. Now that I’ve said it out loud, I know it’s a stupid idea. I’m sure he thinks it is. “I don’t know how these things are usually done,” I mumble. “But I figured since you were here, I had to ask.”

“So, you think this is what my family does?”

“I thought so.” I glance around, hoping somebody will come to my rescue.

“That we take money to hurt people.”

“I didn’t ask for that. I asked if you would protect me.” I wish I had never set eyes on him or any of his brothers. I wish I hadn’t come to work. He sounds angry, suspicious, bitter.

“Who could somebody like you need protection from?” I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Somebody like me? People like me need protection all the time.

“Will you do it or not?” I have to force myself to pick my head up so he won’t see how humiliating this is. He has no idea how hard it is for me to ask for help.

He frowns, and once again, his eyes crawl over me. Finally, in a flat voice, he makes his decision. “I’ll think about it.” Then he’s gone, turning and walking to the car. I guess he’ll find me if he decides to help.

I wish I knew whether I had just made a huge mistake.

4

K  nox

AFTER TELLING her I’d think about it, I went and dropped Cash and Kane off, then came back. I’ve been watching her serve food, bus tables, and sweep the floor all night. When she finally exits, I slump in my seat, hoping she won’t see me when she walks by.

Within minutes, the bus pulls up, and she hops on. I follow it through downtown, watching every person who exits at every stop until it comes up to its final stop by a nice, well-kept residential neighborhood. For someone begging for protection, I never expected her to live in such a nice place.

I creep behind her slowly, making sure my lights are off, and I don’t hit the gas too hard and make the engine roar. I don’t want her to see me. Not yet, anyway. After walking a couple of blocks, she turns off the sidewalk and starts up the steps of a basic two-story home.

As soon as she makes it to the door, her body language changes. It’s so drastic that even I can see it from across the street. Her head dips low, her shoulders slump, and she moves slower. There is no pep in her step like before at the restaurant, and it makes me wonder just what’s waiting behind her doors and who gave her the wicked bruise on her arm.

Maybe a boyfriend? Because a girl like her is bound to have a boyfriend. I mean, why wouldn’t she? She’s beautiful and seems like the type of woman normal men would like.

I try to keep my eyes on her as she steps inside and closes the door behind her, but dark curtains shield the windows and give me no sight inside. Normally, at this point, I would say fuck it and leave, but something inside me won’t let me put my car into drive and go.

I pull my phone from my pocket, keeping my eyes glued to her place even though I can’t see, and dial Ace’s number. He’s my eldest brother and now head of the family. If anyone can dig up dirt on someone, it’s him. And something about this girl isn’t sitting right with me.

I’m not sure if it’s how she had zero care in the world when walking up to us or the way her eyes shone with curiosity. It’s dumb to think she doesn’t know us because everyone knows who we are, but that—along with the bruises on her pale skin—makes me think maybe she’s dealing with an even bigger monster than me. Usually, I wouldn’t bother even entertaining the idea of helping someone like her, but if she had the balls to ask someone like me—someone who isn’t the slightest bit approachable—then it must be bad. Maybe I’m feeling a bit soft because I’m actually considering giving her what she asked for.

The phone rings three times before Ace’s voice booms through the receiver. “Knox.” It’s the only greeting I get.

“I need something.”

I hear muffled sounds as though he’s moving around before he speaks again. “What is it?”

“There is this girl. All I have is her name, address, and work address. Something isn’t right, and I want to check her out before I agree to something.” I try to make the last statement nonchalantly, but I know better. Ace isn’t the head of the family now because he lets shit slide.

“Agree to what?” He sounds almost angry, like why would I do something without keeping him in the loop.

“Protection. She needs protection.”

He chuckles. “Protection or a hit man? You’re only good at one thing and one thing only, and we all know it isn’t knitting.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Are you going to help me or not?”

There is a beat of silence from him. “Fine. What's her name?”

“Aria.” Her name rolls off my tongue with ease.

“Address?”

“Four thirty-two Terrace Way.”

“Terrace Way?” I can hear the confusion in his voice.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Huh. Just odd that someone living in one of the nicer parts of town would need protection. You think we’ll need a racket?”

My blood starts to simmer in my veins. I’ll be damned if my brothers weasel their way into this. “There is no we. I will handle this if everything checks out.”

“Easy, killer. I’d start to think maybe you like this girl.” He laughs.

I know it must seem fucking hilarious to him because I only keep women around long enough to fuck them and nothing else. Feelings are a foreign concept to me. Something I’ve never worried about developing.

I ignore his statement. “Just let me know what you find.”

“Give me till morning.”

I hang up without another word.

I DIDN’T SLEEP at all last night, which isn’t unusual. Sleep has never been my friend. It’s more like a fleeting thought than anything else. When it comes, it’s never for long, but there are many nights it doesn’t come at all.

Since I had nothing better to do, I stayed outside Aria’s house watching, waiting to see if the curtains would ever open again or she would leave, but I saw neither. Not until around seven the following morning. A short man with thinning hair and a fat beer belly finally moves the dark fabric blocking the windows, giving me a perfect view inside.

I thought I would see Aria moving around, getting ready for her day, or maybe eating breakfast at the table positioned in front of the windows, but I don’t. She never came into sight, which makes me wonder where she could be. I know for a fact she never left because I watched her house all night.

My thoughts are quickly answered when she appears for a split second before pulling the door open and exiting the house. She looks different today. She has a black duffel bag gripped in her hand, her hair in a high bun on top of her head, skintight leggings wrap around her toned legs, and a T-shirt that's cut to fall off one shoulder, showing her bright pink sports bra. Normally, I don’t focus on anyone long enough to even tell you the color of their eyes, but with her, I never want to stop looking. I could stare at her body all day.

With her in view, I start my car and creep behind her the same way I did last night as she walks. She follows the same path, staying on the sidewalk until she makes it to the bus stop two blocks away. When she steps on, I pick up my speed behind and follow her in the opposite direction of Rigatoni’s.

After a few minutes, the bus makes its second stop, and she appears again. I pull onto the side of the road and kill my engine as she crosses the street and enters a gym.

Glass takes up the entire front of the building, giving me the perfect view of her as she walks inside. When she strides inside a room off the front, tiny humans swarm her, hugging her thighs with smiles on their faces. I’ve never much liked kids, but even I can admit it’s kind of cute to see them so happy when she walks into the room.

I watch her lips moving as she claps her hands together and starts pointing at different spots on the floor in the open room. The kids scurry, each one taking a different place, then look at her for direction. When she stretches and moves her body, they do the same.

I’m so engrossed in watching her touch her toes I don’t even notice my phone vibrating on the dash. The dim light coming from the screen is what grabs my attention.

I pick up the device, hit answer, then bring it to my ear. “Ace.” I greet my brother the same way he greets me.

“I looked into the girl, and she’s clean. The only thing I was able to dig up was some old news articles from when she was in high school. She was supposed to get some badass scholarship but landed wrong after a flip and tore her ACL along with some other shit, ending her being a gymnast. But she has no criminal background. She’s squeaky fucking clean and works two jobs. She’s a normal broad.”

They say those who can’t do teach, and suddenly, it all makes sense why she’s teaching these kids. “Great. Thanks.” I end the call.

For a minute, I thought Aria was only asking for help for some underlying reason. Like maybe she was close with one of my family's many enemies, but seeing as she has no criminal history, I doubt it.

As the class she teaches ends and the kids all disappear, I wait for Aria to come outside before I step out of my car. I sprint across the street and come up behind her, push her into an alley, and clamp one hand over her mouth and the other over her arm. I can hear the scream bubbling in her throat, but when I turn her around, keeping her arm clasped in my hand, and her eyes lock to mine, it dies. It’s almost as if she knows I won’t hurt her.

I drop my hold on her mouth. “Tell me why you need help.” I don’t bother with formalities. She knows who the fuck I am and what I’m talking about.

She shakes her head and points her eyes anywhere but on me. “It-it was stupid to ask. I changed my mind.” Her voice is shaky, not at all like last night. “I don’t need protection anymore.” The lie doesn't roll off her tongue with ease. She must be one of those people who rather stick to the truth, something I highly value in a person. I hate fucking liars, but I don’t hate her right now because I know she’s scared, and that’s the only reason she’s keeping something from me.

I narrow my eyes and stare at her, waiting for her to say something else, but she stays silent. “Fine. If you say so.”

I drop my hold on her arm and turn, watching her hurry from the alley and on to the bus at the stop. If she doesn’t want to tell me, I’ll figure it out myself. I’m already too obsessed with her to walk away now.

Annoyed, I race back across the street and slip into my car, wasting no time putting the key in the ignition, starting it, and peeling off.

5

A ria

DAMMIT. Why did I do that? Why did I chicken out?

Because he gave me time to think about it, to second-guess myself. Not only whether it was wrong to ask him for protection, but whether I can afford what Knox will ask me to pay.

I’m not stupid. I know people like him don’t do things for nothing. What if I end up going from owing Dale every cent I earn to owing Knox? It’d be like exchanging one devil for another. And Knox isn’t exactly a sweet, nice guy. Who says he won’t end up being just as bad as my stepfather?

It doesn’t help that he scared the hell out of me. How did he know where to find me? Maybe I don’t want to know the answer. Maybe I already do. After all, that’s probably what his family is best at—tracking people down, that sort of thing. He probably has all sorts of ways.

None of it matters now. I turned him down. I doubt he’d be okay with me changing my mind again.

Now that I’m on the way home and my stomach is in knots, I know I should’ve agreed to pay whatever Knox wanted. Nothing’s too much to escape the hell I’m about to walk into. What’ll it be tonight? I know better than to think I’ll escape to the basement without at least getting called every name in the book.

That would be a relief, considering how much worse things can get.

My feet are heavy as I walk the familiar street after getting off the bus. It’s always like this. When I leave, I feel light, free, even if that freedom can’t last long.

Turns out, it’s not as bad as it could be. Dale’s car’s not in the driveway, so he hasn’t gotten home from work yet. Maybe I can manage to avoid him tonight.

Mom’s already swaying on her feet when I walk through the door, holding a glass of something or other in one hand. It splashes over the rim and hits her shapeless T-shirt—more like one of those muumuu things. She doesn’t notice. From the looks of her clothes, this isn’t the first spill she’s had today. “What took you so long to get home?”

I want to ask her what time it is but know better. “I always take the first bus that comes along. You know that.”

“Don’t give me your smart-ass attitude.” I wasn’t trying to, but I’m not dumb enough to argue with her. I’ll end up with her drink in my face right before she slaps me. “You’ve got laundry to do. And look at this house! It’s a fucking pigsty.”

Right, and she’s the one who made it that way. Tears of rage threaten to blind me, but I hold them back. I won’t let her see me cry. It’s easier and safer to get to work and try to avoid her. If I work fast enough, I might still be able to hide in the basement before Dale gets home.

It wasn’t always like this. Sometimes, when I’m in the middle of cleaning the filthy bathroom I’m not even allowed to use except to shower, I go back to the old days. When life was normal. When I had hopes and dreams and a future ahead of me.

I think back on gymnastics, too. How simple my life was in those days. There was nothing but schoolwork and training. That was it. I didn’t have to be afraid, always looking over my shoulder, worrying about where my next meal would come from, or whether I would be able to escape without getting beaten and demeaned.

When I was healthy, I could fly. I miss that most of all. The feeling of taking off, defying gravity, twisting and turning my body through the air before landing with grace and precision. I was in control of every one of my muscles. Disciplined, focused. I could’ve been a champion.

Instead, here I am, scrubbing toilets and fishing hair clogs out of drains while trying not to throw up and washing my stepfather’s stained underwear. He’s such a fucking pig. Sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t leave them this way on purpose. Like he gets off on knowing how disgusted I’ll be. It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it, and he knows that, too.

I finish upstairs, then bring the mop and bucket and everything else downstairs. Mom’s in front of the television with yet another drink in her hand. Her head is nodding like she’s on the verge of passing out. I wish she would. Sometimes I wish she still smoked. That she would pass out with a lit cigarette while I’m not home, but Dale is. I wish he would already be in a drunken stupor and for neither of them to get out alive.

I know that’s wrong, but it’s nothing compared to what they do to me. It’s probably better than they deserve. Dying of smoke inhalation is nothing when I consider the pain and humiliation they’ve made me suffer, and all because of one false move. One injury.

She stirs when I enter the living room with a dust cloth in hand. “Oh. It’s you. I forgot you were even home.” She squints at me, then snarls, “You’re not finished yet?”

“Not yet.” I move as fast as I can, dusting the tables, the television—she gets annoyed with me when I get in her way, of course—and the shelves. There used to be framed photos everywhere, ones where I wore a big smile, holding up the medals I won in competitions, that sort of thing. Now? There’s no hint that I even exist.

I’ve finished running the vacuum when Mom snickers behind me. “Whoops.” I turn to find she’s poured the crumbs from her potato chip bag all over the floor next to her chair. “Sorry.” She doesn’t even bother to hide her smirk while I plug the vacuum in again and clean up her mess.

It’s getting late. Dale will be home any minute. I can’t help but keep looking at the clock, like I’m racing against it. Mom’s bad enough when she’s alone, but when he shows up, it’s like she makes it her goal to make sure I’m as miserable as possible. I have to wonder why she gave birth in the first place if this was how she treats her kid.

I’m about to finish the floor when I hear his car in the driveway. My insides turn to ice as always. The cleaning is done. He won’t have anything to complain about. I put away the mop and turn on the dishwasher, prepared to make my escape.

He comes in through the kitchen door, and I swear, it’s like the lights in the kitchen go dimmer. I keep my head down since that’s the only way to get out of this without things getting worse. My hands tremble as I tuck my hair behind my ears.

“Motherfucker.” He slams his fist against the kitchen table, making the salt and pepper shakers fall on the floor. I try not to jump when he startles me, but it isn’t easy to pretend I’m not affected by his arrival. “This place is a fucking wreck. What have you been doing since you got home, huh?” He sweeps an arm over the counter and knocks the flour and sugar canisters over.

“I was cleaning.” I stare at the floor, willing myself not to cry. “I just finished when you came in. I was on my way downstairs.”

“You were finished?” He barks out a laugh before shoving me into the fridge. Everything inside shakes and rattles, but I manage to stay on my feet. “You’re finished when I say you’re finished, you worthless piece of shit. Who the hell do you think you are? You think you set the rules around here? I’m the one who says when you’ve done well enough—and you haven’t. Not even close.”

His hand cups the back of my head, twisting in my hair. Has he already been drinking? I wouldn’t be surprised. His breath reeks like beer. “You’re worthless. A waste of oxygen. You can’t do anything right.”

He throws me to the floor. I bite my lip to keep from crying out because that’ll only make things worse. “Useless! A lazy, stupid bitch.”

I try to crawl away, but it’s no use. He gets on one knee next to me and grabs me by the back of the neck. “You can’t even mop a fucking floor, you piece of shit. Look at it! Up close.” He holds my face close to the floor. I can still smell the cleaning solution that’s barely dried.

“Look how filthy you left it. You lazy, worthless bitch.” I grit my teeth as he pushes my face to the floor, managing to turn my head so he won’t break my nose. I can see my mom’s feet in the doorway as she stands and watches.

And that’s all she does. She stands there and watches. Doesn’t try to help me. Doesn’t tell Dale to get his hands off me. Because she’s on his side, the way she always has been.

She doesn’t even hate me, I realize as my thoughts race and my scalp screams from the way he’s pulling my hair. She doesn’t feel anything for me.

“Lick it clean.” Dale leans down until his mouth is almost touching my ear. “You can’t learn to use a mop the right way? Then use your tongue. This floor is going to be clean one way or another before the night is over.”

I’ll do a lot of things. I’ll put up with the worst humiliation and even let them starve me.

I will not lick the floor. I will not let him win this time. If I let him do this to me, he won’t stop there. He will never stop.

Which is why I grit my teeth and glare at him from the corner of my eye. “No.” My voice shakes, but not with fear. With rage. Fury.

“Excuse me? The fuck did you just say?” His eyes narrow to slits, and I know I’ve done it. I’m outnumbered. Mom doesn’t care so long as there’s somebody to buy her booze. He could kill me here and now, and she wouldn’t do anything to stop him, and that hurts more than any punch to the face I’ve ever taken.

I don’t know why she hates me so much. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. I didn’t even ask to be born, but I know I have to fight back or I’m going to die here.

“I said no.” I press my palms against the floor and try to push myself up, but he shoves me down with an elbow in the middle of my back.

“Who the fuck do you think—” It’s not completely out of his mouth when a knock on the front door cuts him off.

Nobody moves. Even I’m frozen in place, waiting to see what they’ll do. The knocking turns into a pounding, and I think about calling out for help, something I’ve never done before because I don’t think anyone could help me anyway.

Before I can make up my mind, the door flies inward with a loud crash as somebody kicks it in.

No. Not somebody. Knox. It’s Knox who kicked it in. Knox who strides into the house with a murderous look in his eyes.

6

K  nox

I PULL my car into the same spot across the street from her house that I sat in last night. Lucky for me, they haven’t closed the curtains yet. I watch her walk up the steps and slide inside slowly, closing the door behind her.

For a minute, everything seems normal. The short fat guy from this morning is nowhere to be seen, but a woman who is equally large comes into view as Aria enters. The woman sways on her feet, wobbling but never falling, with a glass in her hand and starts talking to Aria.

I can’t hear what she’s saying, but her body language and resting bitch face makes me want to go in there and tell her to shut the fuck up. I maintain my composure, though, and just watch. Wait.

Aria nods, sets her bag down, and gets to work cleaning. I watch as she moves around the house, dusting, vacuuming, the works. When she finally finishes and rolls the cord to the vacuum back on its cradle, the bitch looks at her and pours chips on the floor. She doesn’t even try to hide the elation in her face as she does it, and it pisses me off. But I still wait. Aria doesn’t seem like the type of woman to take such bullshit, but maybe I’m wrong. She plugs the cord back in, vacuums for the second time, then puts it back in its spot as she grabs the mop.

She moves around the kitchen, pushing the wet mop in front of her, completely lifeless. Even from here, I can see the gleam in her eyes has dimmed to nothing, and her shoulders slump with sadness.

After a while, a car pulling in the driveway grabs my attention. I watch as the fat guy from this morning exits the vehicle and starts around the house. I already don’t like him just because I can practically see the arrogance surrounding him, but when I flick my gaze back to Aria, I realize I really don’t like him. She perks up when he walks inside, but not in the way you see when someone is excited. No, this is fear. She turns into herself, shoots her eyes to the floor, and crosses her arms over her body.

It’s the same way people seem to look when I walk by.

I study their interactions. The fat prick seems to know she’s scared of him too because his chin stays lifted high as he spits words at her. I zero in on the movement of his mouth and try to figure out what he’s saying, but when his hands land on Aria and he throws her against the fridge, I decide I fucking hate him.

Anger rises inside me like lava in a fucking volcano as I rush out of my car and to the front door. I knock a few times, thinking they might answer, but they must be smarter than I thought. Instead of waiting another second, I raise my foot and kick the door with all my might. It flies off its hinges, the sound of splitting wood and smashing ringing out around me, then falls to the ground.

My blood reaches a new boiling point when I see the guy is now on top of Aria, pressing her face to the floor, his elbow digging into her back as he keeps his weight on her.

Something that sounds like a feral growl rips from my throat and the fucking coward he is, scurries backward, off her. With the fat guy’s attention now on me, Aria crawls away.

Seeing she’s out of his reach, I take three long strides to him. “Who the fu—”

I cut him off with my fist to his face. Normally, this would be the time I would grab my blade and just kill the pathetic piece of shit, but I want to make this slow. Drawn-out. Painful. I want to see the motherfucker bleed and hear him scream.

I hit him again, sending his body crumpling to the floor. I hunch down and straddle him, sending fist after fist into his face, stomach, and groin. How dare he touch her and think he could get away with it?

Blood splashes onto my face with every strike, and it fills me with pride. I’ve always been a hothead, but nothing like this has ever sent me over the edge. When I saw her thin, frail body on the floor, I got complete tunnel vision. Nothing else mattered. Only her and her safety. And killing the one who hurt her.

He finally stops moving, and the only sound coming from him is muffled cries, but I can’t stop until he’s dead. His face resembles smashed cherry Jell-O—red and disfigured—but he’s still breathing, and it still doesn’t stop me.

I rear my fist back again, ready to hear more bones crunching under its weight, but the sound of Aria’s sobs has me stopping in my tracks.

Fist still raised, I look to my left where she crawled and see her knees pulled to her chest. Her hands cover her face as she cries, and for the first time in my life, it makes the supernova inside me burn down to a small, flickering flame.

I drop my hand and stand from the woman beater under me, then step toward Aria. Only now do I hear the screams of Aria’s mother, begging me to leave, to let her husband live. I ignore her, drowning her annoying voice out while I focus my attention on the only person in the room who matters.

Reaching down, I scoop Aria up and hold her to my chest. Her arms come around my neck, and she leans her tear-soaked face against my shoulder. When her body is nestled against mine, I look at the woman and point at the guy on the ground. “Let him know I’ll be back to finish what I started.”

She shakes her head, her eyes filled with horror. “And you, don’t think you’re going to get off unscathed because you’re a woman. I know what you did, and you're going to pay for it just like him.”

A trickling sound draws my eyes between her legs where a wet spot is forming. She is pissing herself from fear. Good, I want her scared. I want her to suffer, but not today. Right now, all that matters is Aria. Her fucked-up parents can wait.

“Where is your bag?” I ask her before I head out. Aria points at a spot next to the door. “Are your phone and wallet in there?” When she nods, I bend over enough so she can grab the bag without me putting her down.

I exit the house as Aria’s mother screams behind me, and I cross the street to my car. Placing Aria into the passenger seat, I close the door, then round the hood and slide into the driver’s seat. For me, this is just another day. Beating someone—or even killing them—is nothing new, so it’s easy for me to just act like nothing happened. Almost.

I can still feel the rage simmering under my skin, begging to be released, but I’m more worried about Aria. She’s finally stopped sobbing and just stares out the window, a small hiccup escaping her every so often, but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t even look at me.

When I pull up to my house, I park in the drive and wait a moment to see if she’ll speak. My house isn’t too extravagant—just a small, simple brick structure where I like to spend my free time.

“Where are we?” her voice squeaks out.

“My place.”

She nods slowly, studying the front that’s wrapped in white brick. “What do you want from me?” she asks, finally facing me.

Her hazel eyes shine with more unshed tears as she worries her lip between her teeth. I get lost in her stare, and it takes me a minute to even register what she’s asking. She looks terrified, and it fucking kills me.

One of the things that caught my attention about her was how fearless she was, but now, that’s gone. She’s seen the monster I really am, and it scares me that she’ll run and never want to see me again.

I know I need to keep her talking or reassure her. Something to make her stay.

I tip my head. “What do you mean?”

“You saved me. So, what do you want in return?”

A wave of relief washes over me. She thinks she’s in debt to me now, which means she won’t be going anywhere. As badly as I want to answer her and tell her, you. I want you. All of you. I don’t. Considering all she’s seen today, I need to play it cool for as long as possible.

If that will even be possible around her.

“We will worry about that later. For now, you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

I feel the need to emphasize that it’ll be me because I’ll be damned if anyone else protects her. I can’t even imagine someone else watching over her, making sure she’s okay. No one can be trusted to take care of her the way she deserves.

Only me.

The words come out easy, considering I would never mumble them to anyone else, but this girl… she’s different. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but she makes me want to almost be a decent person for her.

7

A ria

THERE WERE a lot of ways things could’ve ended back there. I thought I was prepared for whatever happened.

I was so wrong. I’m sort of free, but I don’t know what I’m in the middle of now. It’s the whole reason I’d changed my mind about this arrangement in the first place. I don’t know what’s going to come next. I can’t believe he only wanted to help me back there. There must be something in this for him.

His house isn’t anywhere nearly as nice as I would’ve expected from his family. Everybody knows they have plenty of money, but this is a simple little place. “Come on.” He waves me on after opening the car door for me. When I don’t move fast enough, he takes me by the arm and ushers me along. He’s not very patient.

I wish he could understand what I’m going through. I can’t make my brain catch up to the present moment. All I see is the blood. I hear the screaming. I still feel the terror all through my body, freezing my muscles, making it tough to move my feet.

Yet somehow, I end up inside the house. Looking around, I notice it has basic furnishings—what I would expect from a bachelor who doesn’t really give a damn—a couch, a television, and all the stuff that comes with it. The kitchen is visible from here, and it’s simple but clean. At least he’s not a filthy person.

So, he doesn’t want me here as a housekeeper. It’s a ridiculous thought, and there’s no reason for me to laugh right now, but I can’t hold back a quiet giggle when I think about all the work I put into cleaning the house earlier. I guess the kitchen floor really will need to be mopped again. That makes me giggle again but in a scary sort of way. There’s nothing funny about this, so why am I laughing?

I think I’m losing my mind.

Knox touches my shoulder, and I flinch. The look in his eye is one I don’t like. He’s stormy—that’s the only word I can think of to describe it—like the sky before all hell’s about to break loose. The air feels the way it does before a storm, too. Unsettled. Electric.

He holds his hands up so I can see them. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not the bad guy here. In the grand scheme of things, I am the bad guy, but not with you. Never with you.”

“I believe you.” And I do. I don’t have to think about it. That doesn’t mean I’m comfortable, though. I’m anything but that right now.

Especially at the sight of the dried blood on his skin. How many times have I wanted to do to Dale everything Knox did—and worse? It’s not that I’m freaked out. It’s how easy it was for Knox to do it. How zoned out he was. How he even seemed to get pleasure from it. That’s what scares me most of all.

He might not want to hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t if he loses control of himself like he did back at the house.

I look down at myself, realizing there’s blood all over me, too. It makes bile rise in my throat. I’m going to lose it. I know I’m going to lose it.

Which is when he steps in. “Come with me. You need to wash up and get those clothes off you.”

I follow without saying a word. Yes, I need a shower, desperately. I have to wash all that filth off me—everything to do with the house, with my life back there. All of it. I’m never going back there, and not only because I know Dale would kill me the second I step foot inside.

I won’t do it. I won’t put myself through that. I’ll do anything so long as nobody degrades me like that again. No more being embarrassed by my bruises. No more sneaking food or sleeping in a cold, dank basement.

The bathroom is bright, almost cheerful. Not what I would expect from a man living by himself. It’s enough to loosen the tightness in my chest and limbs. Knox turns on the shower—a big clawfoot tub—and steps back. “Here you go. Just leave your clothes on the floor, and I’ll throw them in the washer later. I’ll go make you something to eat.”

With that, he’s gone, and I’m glad to be alone for a minute. Now, I don’t have to pretend I feel better than I do. I don’t have him looking at me, wondering what I’m thinking or whether I’m about to lose my shit.

The water is warm enough to loosen me up, though the middle of my back is still sore thanks to the elbow Dale drove into it. I bet he’s regretting that now, and I hope he’s in just as much pain or more. I want him to know how it felt to be me.

I close my eyes, tilting my head back to let the water run over it. My scalp is tender. I know it will be for a day or two. It’s amazing I have any hair at all. I squeeze my eyes tighter as my chin quivers like I’m about to cry.

It’s not Dale I want to cry over. Not the bruises or the blood.

Why didn’t she care? Why didn’t she ever once try to protect me from him? I was her daughter before he was her husband. I’m supposed to be the person who matters most, aren’t I?

But sure, let Dale get what’s coming to him, and she suddenly decides to care. The way she screamed when Knox beat him. She begged him to stop. The woman could barely stand, but she sure as hell wanted to defend her man.

It shouldn’t hurt the way it does. I’ve known for a long time any love she ever felt for me died the minute I got hurt. Before then, I was an athlete headed for great things.

After? All she saw were the bills. I’m not kidding myself. I know it was a lot of money, and I know she had to sacrifice a lot because of my surgeries and therapy and all that.

That was when she started resenting me. I wasn’t her daughter anymore. I was a debt. Between that, the filth I’m sure Dale planted in her head about me, and the booze rotting her brain, I might as well be dead to her.

Now, the feeling’s mutual. It has to be. It’s not so easy for a kid to stop loving their parents, but I stopped loving her a long time ago. I know that now.

All that’s left is getting rid of the guilt. Even with the way she treated me, I can’t help but feel like a bad person. Only bad people don’t love their parents. A tear rolls down my cheek, washed away by the shower spray. She did this. Every time she let him hit me. When she agreed to have me sleep in the basement. When I needed to hand over every penny I earned. When she decided I wasn’t allowed to eat at home anymore.

She did this. It isn’t my fault I can’t love her and never want to see her again.

I tell myself to wash it all away, and I try my best. I really do. Something tells me it’s going to take a little time, though. I’d probably do well in therapy if I had the money for it.

By the time I’m finished washing, my fingertips are pruning. At least I know I’m clean. What’s even better, clean clothes are folded on the closed toilet lid waiting for me. When did he sneak them in here?

“Oh.” It’s all I whisper as I realize he left nothing but an oversized T-shirt. I left everything I was wearing in that pile, including my underwear. It’s gone. I’m supposed to walk around in nothing but a T-shirt? It falls below the middle of my thighs, but still.

I guess he didn’t think about it. At least I don’t have to walk around completely naked.

The aroma of food reaches me the second I open the door a crack. My stomach growls loud enough to startle me. He meant it when he said he’d make food. That’s another thing that relaxes me a little. He’s doing what he said he’d do, not waiting outside the bathroom door, poised to attack.

I walk down the stairs, arms folded over my stomach. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I lean over the railing to see into the kitchen. There he is, wearing fresh clothes, cooking up bacon like he didn’t almost beat a man to death earlier.

My instincts were right about him. I knew he’d be the right person for the job. I had no idea how right is all.

He glances toward me as I enter the kitchen, then does a double take. His jaw twitches and his nostrils flare, but he doesn’t say anything. “Thanks for this,” I offer, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

That gets me a nod. “BLT?”

“That sounds great.” I’d eat anything right now. The smell of the bacon has only kicked up my appetite. He’s already sliced tomatoes—their deep red color threatens to remind me of blood, but I can’t let myself go there—and there’s lettuce washed and ready, too. I don’t know why that touches me. I guess I didn’t expect him to be domestic.

I can’t help but smile when he loads both sandwiches with six slices of bacon apiece. Back in the day, I would never have considered eating that much at once. “Thank you. This looks amazing.” And it tastes even better. I can’t help but let out a little groan at the first bite.

“You look like you could use a few solid meals. No offense,” he adds when I glance at him in surprise. “I saw you eyeing my food when you served it at the restaurant. You looked hungry.”

“Did I do that?” I know I did, but I didn’t know I was so obvious about it.

“Don’t worry. I was watching you is all. I don’t think anybody else would’ve noticed.” I knew he was. I’m not sure I want to know why, though. So, I take another big bite of my sandwich since chewing at least gives me something to do.

This is surreal. Sitting in this kitchen, eating like nothing’s wrong. Like Knox didn’t pick me up and carry me out of hell a little while ago. I should be scared of him. Any sane person would be.

At most, I’m nervous. Anybody would be. But I’m not afraid. For some reason, I feel it in my bones that he won’t hurt me. Just like I knew in my bones he would be the right person to save me from Dale.

“Can I ask you something?” I nod, still chewing. “Why didn’t you ever tell anybody? I mean, didn’t you ever call the cops on him?”

I snicker, shaking my head. “His brother is the chief of police. That would be a real waste of time. I’ve always known it.”

There goes that stormy look again. I know why, too. It never hit me until now. Dale’s going to find a way to pay him back for this, and he’ll use his brother to do it. I don’t know how since it’s not like introductions were made, but he’ll make it happen. He’s just that evil.

And it’s not like anybody would believe Knox didn’t do it. Not with his history.

“I guess you think this was a big mistake, huh? I should’ve told you about it before. His brother, I mean.” The food’s not sitting so well anymore because I know what’s coming. He’s going to decide I’m not worth it. I’ll have to find someplace to live since I’m sure every minute we spend together makes things more dangerous for him.

“You weren’t thinking about that. I wish I had.” He runs a hand over his head. “Oh, well. It’s not anything I haven’t dealt with before.”

That’s it? I sit and wait, holding my breath before the other shoe drops. Before long, I’m not sure it’s going to. “You’re not kicking me out?”

His head snaps back like he’s surprised. “No. You thought I was going to?”

“I was afraid you would.”

“That’s not how I do things. I wouldn’t abandon you.”

“Thank you.” It doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s all I have to offer. My thanks. My relief.

“I’m going to have to ask you for something in return, you know.”

Yes, I know. I was expecting this. “Sure. I thought you would. Like I said, you can have every penny I earn, I swear. I’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t want your money.”

Crap. It wouldn’t have been easy to pay him, but I was willing to sacrifice. “What do you want then?” I ask, knowing the answer, dreading having to hear it come from his lips.

He finishes his sandwich and slides the plate aside. “It’s simple. You’re going to stay here with me and sleep in my bed every night.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. I can’t believe he says it like that. Like it’s so easy. Like it’s the most natural request in the world. It’s not even a request. He says it like it’s a done deal, and I don’t have any say in it.

I guess I don’t. It was bad enough when he freed me from my house. That was enough of a risk, even before he knew who Dale’s brother was. Now? I’m surprised he doesn’t ask me to suck him off here and now.

And the worst thing is, how could I say no? It’s only him and me. He could easily overpower me. Or he could tell me to get the hell out of his house.

I’m so tired of not having a choice.

8

K  nox

I ONLY PLANNED to make her sleep with me so I could hold her. I mean, cuddling isn’t something I do, but she seems like the type to like that shit, and I’ve heard it helps calm people. Considering all the events of today, I thought she’d need that. But when she came out of the bathroom with wet hair, in nothing but my T-shirt, my dick stirred to life and hasn’t gone soft since.

It’s wild to think that’s all it took—seeing her in my T-shirt. I walked inside the bathroom when she was naked, but the moment I saw her staring into space, all I wanted to know was what was going through her mind.

I could see the pain on her face. The contemplation of something, but I couldn’t ask what. I felt maybe she needed that moment to put everything together in her head and come to terms with this new reality. Hell, maybe I needed it too. Because up until now, a woman has never even been in my home.

When she enters my room, her steps slow with hesitation. I give her a moment to see what she’ll do—what she’ll say—but she just stares at me instead. “Come here.” My voice comes out harsher than I intend, making her flinch.

Her eyes shoot to mine, and I can see questions swimming in them, but she doesn’t voice them.

“I won’t hurt you, Aria.” I try to soften my tone.

She shakes her head softly. “I know that… I’m not sure how, but I know you won’t.”

“Then what's the issue?”

She shrugs, dropping her eyes to the floor again. “I just… I don’t know.”

“Come here,” I command again, opening my arms.

Hesitantly, she crawls into the bed next to me. At first, her body is stiff, and she keeps half an inch between us, but she quickly changes her mind, scooting as close as she can get and lays her head on my chest. Her wet hair is cold against my bare skin, but the chill quickly dies. Even though she used all of my hygiene products, I can still smell her lingering scent. It’s so sweet and ignites the fiery desire inside me.

Once she’s settled into my arms, her body loosens, going soft, but I’m rigid and hard. I can’t relax with her this close, and I think she senses that. “What’s the matter?”

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath as she traces the tattoos on my stomach with delicate fingers. Never one to filter what I say, I just blurt out exactly what’s on my mind to answer her question.

“You. You’re what’s the matter with me.” She sits up, and her face morphs from somewhat calm and composed to absolute dread. Before she can speak, I continue, “I want you, Aria. I need you.” I gesture to my hard cock straining against my loose shorts.

I know now probably isn’t the best time for something like this, but I can’t help it. I lasted the entire time she showered, ate, and talked. Now my patience is thin. Of course if she said no, I wouldn’t pressure her, but something inside me tells me that won’t happen.

I can see it when she looks at me too. She’s just as fascinated with me as I am with her.

She relaxes slightly, her eyes going to where I’m pointing. After a moment, she closes them, sucks in a breath, then opens them and straightens her posture. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

The lust inside me stirs. “Suck it.” I scoot down so my back is flat against the bed, then put my hands behind my head.

She nods, then reaches out with shaky hands and tugs at my shorts. I want to reassure her and tell her not to be scared, but I don’t trust myself enough to speak. I need to let her take control right now because if she leaves it up to me, I’m not sure I’d be able to stop.

She’s already been through so much, and maybe this is selfish, but I don’t even care right now. Right now, I only want her.

She climbs between my legs, then shimmies my shorts down enough to get access. Without the fabric constricting me, my dick springs up through my thin boxers and twitches with need. She pulls my boxers down slowly, finally freeing me completely, and her eyes flash with desire. I knew it. She wants this just as bad as I do.

She leans down, locking her eyes to mine, then flicks the small, silver bar on the underside of my dick with her tongue. Immediately, it sets the blood in my veins on fire. I thrust up, wanting more, and she takes my cue.

She locks her lips around me. Her warm, wet mouth swallows me whole, not stopping until her lips hit the base. My legs flex, and I fist my hair with my hands behind my head. Her tempo increases, and with each skating pass of her tongue on me, it gets harder not to come.

I finally move my hands, then slide them down my body until I reach her head. I push them into her hair and grip hard, holding her in place, then proceed to fuck her face. She gags and drools, and it only turns me on more.

“Fuck,” I hiss, looking into her watery eyes. I swear I can see the ghost of a smile on her lips around my cock.

“I’m going to come,” I grind out through clenched teeth.

Her head nods as much as it can, and that's all it takes. My abs clench, and I can feel my balls squeeze with an impending release. With one last thrust into her mouth, I shoot my seed. I can feel my cum coat her tongue and the back of her throat.

When she swallows, her throat tightens around me, sending one last wave of shivers through me. I remove myself and pull her up to me. I kiss her lips softly, then grip her hips and try to push her up my body.

“Wait.” She lays her hands flat on my chest. “What are you doing?”

I give her a sideways look. “Returning the favor.” Isn’t it obvious?

She shakes her head and tries to roll off me. “I only did this as payment. You don’t have to return the favor.”

I grip her hips tighter, locking her in place on top of me. “Payment? You think because I saved you, you have to suck my dick? I may be a monster, but I would never make a woman do something she doesn’t want to.” I narrow my eyes at her. “You wanted to, didn’t you?”

I have to ask because now I’m starting to think I was reading her signals all wrong.

“I—”

I cut her off. “I don’t like liars, Aria, so be honest.”

Her knees squeeze around me slightly as her mouth opens and her breath shudders. That’s all the answer I need. She did want to do this, and even more, she wants me.

I let the conversation die and pull her up my body until she’s hovering over me with her pussy lined up with my mouth.

No panties hide her mound from me, and it makes me smile. She’s completely shaved smooth, and I can smell her arousal. Pushing her down, her slit lands on my waiting tongue. My taste buds burst with satisfaction at her sweet taste, and I swear my dick comes to life again.

I lick, suck, and nip until she takes over, running her pussy over my nose and tongue in long, fast strokes. It turns me on to see her taking charge and chasing her own orgasm, so I don’t stop her. I lie there, my hands gripping the soft flesh of her ass, as she rides my face.

“I…” she starts between pants. “I’m going to come!” She moans.

Before she gets the chance, I grab her and flip her onto her back, then crawl down her body, positioning my face between her thighs. I look at her, chest heaving, sweat slicking her forehead. “Come. Come for me,” I say, then dive between her legs.

All it takes is a few strokes all the way from her clit to her hole, then back up before she’s coming all over my face. I lap every last drop up with my tongue until her body stills and her orgasm starts to die.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before moving back up the bed and lying down beside her. It’s almost awkward because this is the point I would kick any other woman out, but I can’t do that to her. I won’t. She needs me.

Just as I’m about to start a pointless conversation, she moves closer to me and puts her head on my chest the same way it was before. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything so exhilarating,” she remarks.

“Oh yeah?” I can hear the smile in my voice, and it makes me feel stupid. No woman has ever made me feel this way—so light and carefree. Normally, a constant storm rages inside me, but that storm is nothing more than a light breeze with her in bed, in my arms.

“Yeah. The only other time I’ve ever felt that way was when I was performing.”

“Performing?” I know what she’s talking about, but I don’t want her to know that I was already stalking her. I’m getting her to open up, and I have a feeling if I tell her my brother dug up all the information he could on her, she’d close right back up.

“Yeah. I used to do gymnastics. I had a scholarship and everything.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I had an accident. It was my own fault… I landed wrong, tore my ACL, and fractured my spine.” I can hear the frown in her voice, and it makes me pull her closer.

“How can it be your fault if it was an accident?”

She shrugs. “I guess it wasn’t really, but after you’ve been told it’s all on you for so long, I guess you start to believe it too.”

My hatred for her so-called parents grows by the minute. The only thing keeping me calm is knowing that she is safe now and her asshole stepfather is walking around with his face rearranged. “Is that why you teach now?”

She nods against my chest. “But I don’t think I’ll be teaching much longer. All the parents are starting to take their kids to the new gyms they’re building on the other side of town. Ours is too old and run down, and Lisa, the owner, doesn’t have the money to fix it. It’s really sad.”

“Sounds like it. But maybe one day that’ll change.”

She lets out a yawn. “Maybe.”

As she nestles into my side more, I wrap my other arm around her, and for once, I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

9

A ria

THIS IS SO BIZARRE. It’s almost normal, sitting and drinking coffee in the kitchen, with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. It couldn’t be any more idyllic if a big golden retriever came galloping into the room, or maybe a little kid or two.

Wow. That is the opposite of the sort of thing I need to be thinking about when I’m around him.

What’s even stranger is how relaxed Knox seems now, so unlike the man I first met, the man who kicked the door in to save me last night. I think I even see something resembling a smile when he meets my gaze over the rim of his coffee cup.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m the reason for this change, like making him come last night turned him into a puppy dog content to eat from my hand. He’s different for sure, though. Like there are two sides to him. I’ve already seen one side. I think I like this one better.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, dragging me out of my thoughts.

“Very well. I was exhausted, and I don’t usually get a lot of sleep.”

“How come?”

Before I can think about what I’m saying, the words come out. “For one thing, there was only a cot in the basement—”

“They made you sleep in the basement?” He sounds beyond incredulous. The old shame threatens to wash over me, but I won’t let it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of unless I decide there is, and I’m tired of that. I’m tired of not being in control.

“Yes, they decided I wasn’t worth having my own bedroom. It all started when I got hurt. You know, back when I was doing gymnastics. The medical bills were astronomical. Things got really bad because of that.”

“But they were supposed to be your parents. So, what? They used that as an excuse to treat you like shit? Like you were a slave or something?” The disgust and horror in his voice strike me as almost funny, considering what he’s capable of. If he’s this stunned, maybe things were even worse than I realized. Like a frog in a pot of water, that whole thing. Raise the temperature one degree at a time and they don’t realize they’re being boiled alive because they’re used to it by then.

I got used to being treated the way I was. They wore me down enough over time that I didn’t bother trying to fight back anymore.

“I guess they thought they had the right. I don’t know. I can’t imagine because I can’t make myself think the way they did.”

“Trust me. I’m capable of a lot of things.” Yes, I’ve seen that for myself. “And even I know that’s fucked up. I should’ve finished the job.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. I settle for sipping my coffee, grateful he broke into the house when he did. That I mustered up the courage to approach him in the first place.

Suddenly, he checks his phone and stands. “I need to go out for a few hours.”

My hands start to tremble. I have to set down my cup to make sure I don’t spill anything. “Do you really have to?”

He hits me with a sharp look that quickly softens. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine here. This is probably the safest place for you.”

“No, I’m not worried. I just…” I stare down into my cup, unable to put words to what I’m feeling. I’m not sure I want to be alone right now. Funny, he should be the last person I want to be alone with. It turns out, he’s the only one.

“It won’t be long. Don’t worry about it. While I’m gone, you’re free to do whatever you want. There’s plenty of food here in the kitchen, everything you could ever want to watch on TV—I have all the streaming services. There are a bunch of books and magazines in my room. Make yourself at home.”

I’m sure he means to calm me down, to soothe me, but it makes me feel more uncomfortable than ever, and I know why.

“I don’t want to feel like home. At least not the one I’m used to.”

“Shit. Sorry. I mean, make yourself comfortable. Eat whatever you want, use whatever you need. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He runs a hand over my cheek, stroking my jaw, and butterflies erupt in my stomach.

“Have a good day.” He grins before heading toward the door, checking his pockets as he goes. The click of the lock reminds me I’m safe, that nobody will come in after me. Nobody even knows I’m here, and the house is completely nondescript. I’ll be safe here.

Now what do I do?

First things first. Knox didn’t make breakfast—not everybody likes to eat right after they wake up. I am not one of those people. The fridge is full of food, another way he doesn’t line up with the stereotypical bachelor image. I expect to find a box of baking soda and a few moldy takeout containers, but what I see is a wide range of foods, even vegetables.

I fix myself scrambled eggs, toast and jelly, and a big glass of orange juice. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to do something this simple, to fend for myself the way normal people do. Maybe that’s why the food tastes so good, much better than plain old scrambled eggs have any right to be.

Once I’m finished, I clean up the pan and dishes, then wipe down the table and the counters. Call it a habit. I have a hard time not earning my keep. It’s a relief that Knox is as clean as he is, though at least that would give me something to do with my time.

Now what? I go up to the bedroom to find something new to wear. I can’t make the dreadful feeling in my gut go away—the one telling me not to touch anything, not to eat or drink. Not to feel comfortable in any way or I’ll get a beating. I force that voice away and remember what Knox said.

One of Knox’s dresser drawers is filled with T-shirts like the one I’m wearing, sweat shorts, and sweatpants. The sweatpants seem like the best bet even though they’re still way too big. At least there’s a drawstring I can cinch around my waist so they won’t randomly fall down. I choose another clean, white T-shirt and knot it at my waist so it doesn’t feel so much like I’m wearing a dress.

The bedroom is so quiet, like a tomb. I still feel sort of bad being in here, like I’m being a burden all over again. I can’t tell how much of that is normal and how much it’s me being brainwashed.

One thing is clear, I want to know more about him. The sort of books he has in his room—history books, strangely enough—I wouldn’t expect him to care about that. The magazines are more what I figured I’d find—cars, girls, and sports. I don’t know why he thought I’d be interested in those, but it makes me grin anyway. He’s doing his best to make me comfortable.

All of this only killed an hour. It’s weird, not having every minute of my day filled, and the thought of unfilled hours ahead of me makes me feel all antsy and twitchy. I’m going to have to get used to living like a normal person. Even when I was competing, I had a single, focused goal. Everything was about training, being stronger, faster, the best. I guess I’ve never lived a normal life, even before my injury.

The sound of the washing machine finishing almost gives me a heart attack, but it makes it easier to find the thing and switch my clothes into the dryer.

Afterward, I decide to settle in on the couch and veg out for a while. Knox wasn’t kidding when he said there’d be everything I could ever want to watch on television. He must pay a fortune every month for his streaming services. It makes me wonder how much time he spends here, all alone. It’s impossible not to think about him, to try to figure him out. I hate to think of him sitting here by himself, though I’m sure it’s completely his choice if that’s ever the case. I doubt he ever does anything unless it’s what he wants to do.

After another hour or so, I finally start to relax for real. I get my clothes out and switch into my bra and shirt, so I don’t have to look at my bruises anymore, but I’ll leave his sweatpants on, finding them even more comfortable than my leggings.

Cuddling back up on the couch, I try to relax. It’ll take time, but I have no doubt I’ll eventually be able to enjoy downtime like anybody else. I’ll need time to get over all the shit Mom and Dale put me through, but the fact that I’m even thinking about moving on with my life must be a good sign.

My God. I’ll even be able to keep my wages now. My tips. The possibilities loom large in my imagination.

“Shit.” My wages. That’s all it takes to remind me of my obligations—namely, my job at Laura’s Gymnastics. I jump up and frantically look around. I’m scheduled for a class this afternoon, and I know Lisa won’t be able to get anybody to cover for me on such short notice. I can’t even remember all the times I had to drag myself over there after a beating, covering the bruises I could and making excuses about the ones I couldn’t.

I always had the feeling Lisa didn’t believe me, but she was too nice to say anything.

I can’t let her or the girls down. I have to find a way to get there. My bag is by the front door, right where Knox left it. I have some money for the bus fare, more than enough to get me to class, and according to the schedule I look up on my phone, the next bus rolls through ten minutes from now just a block away from here.

But I’m not supposed to leave, am I? What’s Knox going to think if he comes home and finds me gone? I don’t even have his number, so I can’t call him and let him know what I have to do. He would probably tell me not to go, but that’s just not going to happen. I’m sure I can handle getting myself to gymnastics and back.

Still, I do have manners. I don’t want him getting home and freaking out—who knows what he would do if he assumed something bad had happened to me? So, I leave a note on the kitchen counter.

I forgot I have a class to teach this afternoon, and I can’t miss it. I’ll be back in a few hours.

That will have to be enough. As it is, I’m afraid I’m going to be late as I put on my shoes, grab the bag, and almost run out the door in hopes of catching the bus.

10

K  nox

WHEN I MAKE it back home, I almost jump up the steps, ready to see her. I never wanted to leave her, but I had no choice. Just because I have an infatuation doesn't mean my job stops. My family needed me, and I couldn’t say no.

When I open the door, I’m expecting to hear the television, or maybe see her perched on the couch reading, or in the kitchen eating, but she’s gone. My mind immediately starts thinking the worst. What if the piece of shit I hadn’t finished off found her? I kick myself. I should have just killed him when I had the chance.

My mind starts to calm when I look at the counter and see a note written in perfect cursive telling me where she went, and she’ll be back. My anger eases slightly, but the fact she’s out there without me—without my protection—brings it right back.

I hurry back out of my house and slip back into my car. Nothing seems to matter as I haul ass to the gym. The only thing I’m focused on is seeing her. When I see the old run-down sign indicating I’ve made it, I pull off the street and park directly in the front.

Luckily, I don’t have to wait long before I see her exiting the building. Before she has a chance to make it to the bus stop, I step out and yank her into the alley. “What the fuck, Aria?” She jumps at my booming baritone voice. “Do you realize you could have been hurt? That fucker could have easily found you and finished what he started the other day!”

“I-I didn’t think about that, Knox. I couldn’t miss class.” Her voice is shaky and weak. I hate the way she’s looking at me right now, but I’m having a hard time reining in my anger.

I almost feel bad for scaring her, but she needs to see the bigger picture, the severity of her actions. Her safety is more important than teaching a fucking class. “What would you have done if he came here looking for you?” I ask a little softer, but I keep the edge to my voice.

She drops her bag and crosses her arms over her chest, letting the scared woman I normally see melt away. “I’m sorry, okay? This is all new to me. I’m not used to someone caring about my safety. I already feel like I’m a burden, and if I don’t work, then I have no money. Plus, they needed me here. I can’t just abandon them!” she yells back.

In the few days I’ve spent around her, she’s been a little meek. I’m sure it’s because of what she witnessed me do, but this is an entirely new side to her, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on. Most people are too scared to stand up to me. It's one of the things that make me so good at what I do. No one would dare yell back at me. I’m too intimidating. But her… she isn’t scared.

It’s one of the first things I noticed about her and why I decided to watch her. Now all it does is make me want to fuck her.

With the thought in my mind, I cup her cheeks in my hands and crash my lips to hers. Her hands shoot out beside her, searching for something to help her balance from my punishing kiss. As I back her up and her shoulder blades hit the wall behind us, she finally gives in.

Her hands reach up and grab my hair violently. In retaliation, I bite her lip as a warning, but it only turns her on more. She presses her body into mine harder like she’s trying to get closer, but all of the space is already eaten up. The only thing separating us is clothing.

Almost like she has the same thought, she moves her hands from my hair and drags them down my body. She pulls my shirt up quickly, breaking our kiss only long enough to take it off me completely and throw it to the ground. All I want is to feel her skin against me, so I break our kiss and pull the shirt—my shirt—from her body, leaving her sports bra in place.

“We could get caught,” she whispers, moving her hands to my belt.

“I’ll kill anyone who looks at us.”

She bites her bottom lip with a grin, then unclasps my belt and jeans. She only pushes them down enough to set my cock free, which is already hard and ready.

“I’ve never had someone pierced inside me.”

Her comment has me growling and moving to the waistband of the sweatpants she most definitely grabbed from my drawer. I can’t get them off quick enough. I pull them down, then help her step out of one side, leaving them hanging around one ankle. I hike her leg up, holding her under her knee, then wrap it around my waist.

I hunch down to line my dick up with her pussy. “I’m going to destroy you for any other man. You’re mine and mine only. When you’re aching tomorrow, it’ll be my pierced cock you’re thinking about.”

She moans and grinds her pelvis into mine like she can’t wait any longer. I give in and shove into her. She’s so fucking wet. So fucking tight. I throw my head back and let her adjust to my size and try to calm myself a bit, so I don’t blow.

I pull back out slowly, then push back in. “Knox!”

Hearing my name slip past her lips with a sweet moan pushes me forward. “Do it again. Say my name.”

She complies, throwing her hands around my neck and resting her head against the brick as I fuck her. I shove deep inside her, impaling her with my cock and rubbing against her clit with my pelvis. I could stay buried inside her for the rest of my life and be happy.

The feeling is complete euphoria. Like every nerve ending in my cock is on fire from desire, but I can’t stop searching for more, needing more friction. I’m so close but still not close enough. Every inch of space, every layer of fabric is too much between us.

Her thighs quiver, and I know she is about to come, so I pick up speed, pounding inside her furiously as if my life depends on it.

As she comes, her walls squeeze around me, giving me exactly what I need. When I feel my balls start to squeeze, I move one hand and grip her chin, bringing her eyes back to mine. “Look at me while I come inside you.”

She nods, her mouth open and on the verge of a moan. As I shoot my load inside her, she finally lets it out, and it’s music to my fucking ears.

I keep myself inside her as my dick goes soft. Sated and drained, I want to stay here and not move. I never want to not be inside her, but we can’t sit in an alley all night. Never letting her completely go, I set her down but keep my hand on her hip. I remove myself and pull up my jeans with one hand. “Let me take you home.”

She smiles, still riding the high of her orgasm. “Home? I don’t have a home.”

Her words come out harmless, but the meaning behind them sends a pang to my soul. “My home is your home now. I meant it when I said you’re mine,” I reply, helping her step back into the sweats and put her shirt back on.

“I think I like being yours,” she coos as I lead her out of the alley.

I’ve never felt this way with another woman like I do Aria, and if I’m being honest with myself, I think I like her being mine too.

11

A ria

I WISH I knew what to think about him.

On the one hand, I know who he is, and I know what he’s capable of. I’ve seen it with my own eyes and should be terrified of him. I should cringe when he touches me.

On the other hand, I don’t cringe when he touches me. I want more. He sets me on fire without hardly having to try. He makes things I would never imagine doing seem like a normal, reasonable thing. Like fucking in an alley. Who does that? Since when do I?

So maybe it’s me I need to figure out, not Knox. He’s never pretended to be somebody he’s not. He’s never lied to me. What I see is what I get. And what I get is the most ridiculously hot sex anybody’s ever had.

No. It’s more than that. For the first time in my entire life, I get to feel like somebody wants me for me. He wants to protect me because he thinks I’m worth protecting. Not because I’ll win a championship. Not because if I keep working hard, I’ll earn a free ride to college. I don’t have to do anything or give him anything in exchange. I only have to be.

Which is completely fucking bizarre and almost impossible to believe.

“You’re all dirty,” he announces once we’re in the house, where everything’s just the way I left it before running out for the bus. Like he got here and immediately ran out again.

“Yeah. Somebody had me up against a dingy brick wall a little while ago.” And here I am, joking about it. Teasing. He’s unlocked something in me. Something that craves him—who he is, how he does things.

Which is why I don’t hesitate when he beckons me from the foot of the stairs. Why I follow him up with my heart pounding. It's not pounding in fear, though, more like anticipation. I know that no matter what, he won’t hurt me. Not really.

He leads me to the bathroom, where he turns on the taps before putting the stopper in place. He’s running a bath. When he turns to me, he’s gentle as he strips me of one piece of clothing at a time. There’s nothing sexual about it, not really, and I honestly don’t know if I’m glad of that or not. Now that I know how it feels to have him inside me, that’s all I want—to be joined with him that way, one person instead of two.

I’m either a degenerate sex maniac or a hopeless romantic. Either way, I think I need to get myself under control before Knox gets me into real trouble.

I slide into the tub once it’s half-filled, wincing at first at the heat of the water. It doesn’t take long to adjust to it, though, and by the time I’m settled back against the rear of the tub, my muscles have already loosened. Steam billows up around me, so thick it’s almost like a curtain between Knox and me.

Instead of leaving me alone the way he did last night, he kneels next to the tub. I watch him with my heart in my throat, biting my lip. What’s he going to do now? That uncertainty is a little scary, but even more so, it’s exciting—not being able to predict what he’s going to do.

He reaches for the washcloth he draped over the side of the tub, then dunks it into the water. I watch in fascination as he soaps the cloth up, making it sudsy, before lifting my arm by the wrist and sliding the cloth over it.

This is all he wants to do? To wash me? The way he approaches his work is enough to soften my heart even more. He’s so serious yet so gentle at the same time. Like this is important to him, and he wants to get it right. I can hardly believe anybody would be this good to me, but especially someone who’s practically a stranger.

Sure, we’ve had sex, but strangers can do that and still be strangers once they’re finished. The fact is, we’ve only known each other this well for twenty-four hours, no matter how much it feels otherwise.

Once my arm is washed, he moves to the other one. I only do as he asks, easing into the sensation of being cared for. Being cherished. Like I’m something special. Like he cares about me that much. Can that be possible? I want to ask, but I wouldn’t know how to get the words out. Besides, he’s all wrapped up in what he’s doing. I don’t want to distract him.

He doesn’t even get sexy when he moves between my legs, where I’m still sore from our fun in the alley. On second thought, I’m glad he doesn’t want more than this. Even though it was a lot of fun, I don’t know if I could handle him again this soon. Maybe in time, once I’m used to him—his size, his piercing, his roughness, all of it—I’ll be able to handle it more than once a night.

Holy shit, what am I thinking? Am I actually considering a future with him? Is that a smart thing to do? No, I don’t think he would ever hurt me, but what if somebody hurts him? He lives a dangerous life. I might end up getting hurt anyway, without him laying a hand on me.

Once he decides I’m clean enough, he helps me stand in the tub before getting a big, thick bath sheet to wrap around me. He even insists on drying me off with gentle, smooth strokes against my skin. It’s amazing how gentle he can be compared to the way he was when we were having sex. Again, I can’t help but think of him as having two personalities. I like this one better.

Though I sure liked the other one earlier, didn’t I? I came so hard, I saw stars.

“Are you hungry?” I nod eagerly, having not eaten since breakfast. “Why don’t you get dressed and meet me downstairs? I’ll fix us something.” I nod with a lump in my throat. He’s so sweet, so thoughtful. I’m starting to believe he really was worried about me when he got home and found me gone. It wasn’t only that I disobeyed him. He was genuinely afraid something bad might’ve happened.

That’s still running through my head as I get dressed and head downstairs. He’s already waiting for me in the living room with a plate of cheese, fruit, meats, and bread placed on the coffee table.

“I meant to compliment you on all the food in the fridge. You really know how to stock a kitchen.” I take a seat, pulling my legs under me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so cozy.

“I like to eat well. Why do you think I love going to Rigatoni’s so much?” He flashes a brief, warm smile. “When we’d have big family dinners, this was always my favorite part. I keep stuff around for when I want a quick meal. What would you like?”

“Some of that cheese would be nice. Is it cheddar?”

“Aged Irish cheddar.” He cuts off a small piece, but instead of handing it to me, he holds it up to my mouth. I realize he’s not joking, so I part my lips and let him slide the cheese between them. It’s delicious—smooth, creamy, nutty.

My eyes close as the flavors play over my tongue. “That’s incredible.”

“Here. Try some of this.” He spoons a little bit of honey on top of the next piece and slowly inserts it into my mouth. I might come again just from this cheese alone. When I open my eyes this time, I find him watching me with something like desire playing over his features.

“Why are you being so good to me?” It comes out before I can think to stop it. I don’t even know that I would’ve stopped it if I had known it was coming since I do want to know. It’s driving me sort of crazy, not knowing why he’s going to all this trouble for me.

He looks at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m just some person? A girl who happened to ask you for help when she needed it?” Something else hits me, and I don’t like it. “Is it because you feel sorry for me?”

He pauses in the middle of wrapping a slice of prosciutto around half a fig. “Is that what you think? That I’m doing all this because I pity you?”

“Well, I’m sure weirder things have happened.”

He feeds me the fig and prosciutto—again, it’s a revelation, and I want to know where he gets his groceries because I plan on shopping there for the rest of my life—then sighs. “Let me tell you something about myself right now. I don’t do pity. I wasn’t born with that ability. There have been times when I’ve wondered if I was born broken. I don’t feel the kinds of things other people feel.”

I sort of figured that out on my own.

“I mean, I don’t go around abusing animals or anything like that,” he makes sure to tell me. “There isn’t punishment bad enough for the sort of people who do shit like that. When I see anybody getting hurt or taken advantage of by somebody bigger and stronger than them?” He shrugs. “I can't help myself. I have to make them hurt, too.”

“So that’s why you beat him.” I can’t say his name, not now. “Because you saw what he was doing to me, and you knew it was wrong.”

“You sound disappointed.”

Do I? I guess that’s because I am, a little. I don’t know what I expected him to say or what I wanted him to say. I don’t know how I would’ve reacted if he’d said he was in love with me or something like that. “Nobody wants to think of themselves as needing help. At least, I don’t.”

“But you did. And you were smart to come to me. You don’t have anything to worry about anymore, not ever again.” This time, he tears off a piece of bread and smears goat cheese on top. Every bite is more delicious than the last. He is a far more interesting, multilayered person than I would ever have imagined. I wonder if anybody else knows he’s like this.

I wonder how many of them know he’s not above feeding a girl.

Eventually, he eats, too, but only when I told him I’m satisfied, though. Like he wanted to be sure I had everything I wanted before he took his.

He’s just polishing off the last of the cheese when there’s a knock on the door. I look toward the windows, and for the first time, I notice the light outside. Red and blue lights, to be precise. “What the hell is that?” My delicious meal wants to come back up all of a sudden.

Knox’s jaw tightens as he stands. “There’s nothing to worry about.” His voice is flat, even, low—somehow scarier than it would be if he started screaming. “Just relax and stay quiet.”

“But—” He holds up a hand before going to the front door, moving with all the dangerous grace of a panther on the prowl. I know who’ll be on the other side, but that’s not enough to prepare me for the sight of a pair of cops standing on the front stoop.

“Knox Hale, we have a warrant for your arrest.” One of them comes in, holding up a piece of paper, while the other pulls out zip ties. “You’re going to have to come with us.”

“What are the charges?” I blurt out. I know I’m supposed to stay quiet, but I’m tired of being told what to do and how to do it.

“Murder.” The cops barely look at me, too busy with him.

“This is ridiculous! Knox!” I want to get through to him, to at least convince him to spit in their faces. Something. I can’t reach him, so I turn to the cops. “You can’t do this. You can’t just walk into somebody’s house and say you’re arresting them for murder.”

“We absolutely can, young lady. Hence the warrant.” The cop spits it at me, then snarls, and I have to wonder who he thinks I am. Does he think I’m in on something with Knox?

Meanwhile, Knox is deathly quiet the entire time he’s being cuffed and read his rights. It’s just like on television, all of it. He only smirks a little, staring straight ahead while the officers mutter things about him and his family. Obviously, they’re not fans of his.

I open my mouth, prepared to accuse them of taking his family’s history out on him, but Knox meets my gaze and shakes his head. “I’ll be back out in a few hours. Don’t sweat it. Just stay put, okay?” He even winks the instant before he’s led out the door to the car.

How can he be so calm about this? It’s like… oh. Right. Like he’s been through it before. I guess he has.

I haven’t, though. I hate to think of him going through this when he’s been so good to me. I know he has a decent side in there. How am I supposed to live without him if he ends up not being able to make bail? What if bail is never offered?

Just when I thought things were going better. Just when I thought all my troubles were over. Tears are rolling down my cheeks by the time I drop onto the couch.

It takes a second for me to realize my bag is buzzing by the door. My phone. I jump up and grab for it.

And almost throw up.

Now everything makes sense. Neither Mom nor Dale tried to call immediately after what happened last night. But here I am, not three minutes after Knox’s arrest, and there’s a call coming my way from the house line.

No. It can’t be true. It must be a coincidence. I take a deep, steadying breath before answering. “Yes?”

“How’s your boyfriend, slut?”

The sound of his voice brings everything back. My shoulders hunch and my back curves as I try to fold myself up as small as possible. “What did you do?”

“What needed to be done to an animal like that. But he doesn’t have to be in there for long. He could leave as soon as I give the say-so.”

I should’ve known from the second I saw those lights that all of this could be traced back to the bastard on the phone. “What will make you give the say-so?”

“If you come home. Right now.” I close my eyes as this sinks in. “Or else I could make jail really uncomfortable for that son of a bitch. He might even get hurt… accidentally, of course.”

He’ll do it, too. So will that brother of his. I’m sure of it. I can’t make Knox suffer for me. There’s no question about what I need to do. “I’m on my way.”

12

K  nox

AS I WALK OUT of the police station, I see Ace leaned against his car in the parking lot. I was expecting him to maybe send one of the twins to collect me or even Archer, but no, it’s Ace himself instead.

I stop in front of him and wait for him to speak. “How was it?”

I scoff. “I was stuck in a holding cell. The bench was hard, it smelled like piss, and the pigs were fucking rude. You know, the usual.”

He nods with a small smile before walking around and slipping into the driver's seat. As I slide into the other side and he takes off, I ask the only thing that’s been running through my mind for the past few hours. “How is Aria? Did you check up on her?”

“I tried, but by the time I got your call and made it to your place, she was gone.”

I snap my gaze to him. “What do you mean, gone?”

“Like not there. Gone.”

My blood starts to boil, and I can feel the supernova inside me start to get brighter and brighter, ready to explode. “No, shit! Turn around!”

He busts a U-turn in the middle of the road, ignoring the blaring horns and screams from pissed-off drivers. “Terrace Way?” he asks, like he’s barely remembering she’s the one who needed protection.

I nod. “And make it fast.”

The playful smile on his lips is replaced with a stern line. He knows I don’t care about shit, so seeing me so worked up over a girl makes him realize how serious this is. He runs every stop sign and red light so we make it to Aria’s house—or rather her old house—in record time.

I barrel out of the door before he can even come to a complete stop. The tunnel vision that took over the last time I was here is back, but this time, I’m ready to finish the fucking job.

When I kick in the newly replaced door, it isn’t the short fat fuck I find. Instead, it’s the woman who I’m assuming is Aria’s mom—a sorry excuse for a mom at that.

“Where is she?” I hiss.

The fat bitch does nothing but sob and mumble bullshit. “She took him. She took my man. She’s nothing but an ungrateful bitch!”

“Where is she?” I try again, raising my voice. My hands shake as I ball them into fists beside me.

“I told her to stay away from him. Told her to stop trying to steal him, but she didn’t listen. He’s only obsessed with her because she looks like me.”

I internally gag with her words. The woman standing in front of me doesn’t resemble Aria at all. She has gray, greasy hair, saggy tits, and she’s wider than me.

“Where the fuck is she!” I roar for the last time.

“She’s gone!” she spits back. “And she took him with her!”

Blinding rage takes over. I raise my hand and send the back of it across the cunt’s cheek. She stumbles sideways, clenching her face with tears welling in her eyes.

Now that she’s shut the fuck up and I have her attention, I step closer, leaning down so my nose is right against hers, and whisper, “Tell me where the fuck she is, or I’ll slit your throat and finger the fucking hole until the blood stops pumping.”

Her chest vibrates drastically with fear. “He-he has a cabin.”

“Continue, piggy,” Ace chimes from behind me.

“It’s outside of town. He uses it when he hunts.” Her voice trembles.

“And?” I grind out.

“Seventy-eight thirty-one County Road Nine. That’s the address.” She flinches when I raise back to my full height and tower over her.

“Was that so fucking hard, you old hag?”

She shakes her head vigorously, making her double chin wobble. “Don’t hurt him, please,” she whispers as I turn around to leave.

“Hurt him?” I laugh and stop in my tracks. “Oh, I’m going to do more than hurt him. I’m going to sever his head and send it to you in a box. Maybe I’ll even cut off his puny dick, so you have something to remember him by on the lonely nights.”

Sobs wrack her body as she falls to her knees and crawls in front of me. “Please, no! Please!” she begs at my feet with her hands folded in front of her.

I look at Ace over my shoulder. “Give me your gun.”

He raises an eyebrow but gives in to my demand, handing over his Glock. I place the barrel to her head and pull the hammer back. “You’re a sorry excuse for a mother and an even sorrier excuse of a human.”

I pull the trigger before she can say anything else, happy to finally silence her annoying cries.

When I turn back around, Ace is staring at me with pride in his eyes as he reaches for his gun. “Never thought I’d see the day you would use a gun.”

I push past him and start back to the car. “There was no time for torture or relishing in her death. I need to get my woman.”

By the time I make it back to the car, he’s right behind me, sliding in and starting toward the address the cunt gave us.

The entire drive drags. County Road Nine is less than thirty minutes from where we were, but it feels like a fucking lifetime. All I can think about is what he’s doing to her. Are his dirty hands on her body? Is he hurting her? I answer yes to both because I saw what he’s capable of, and that only sends me into all the ways I’m going to hurt him. How I’m going to fucking kill him.

“Go faster, Ace!” I yell, getting more pissed off for every second longer it takes to get me to her.

“I’m going. When we get there, make that motherfucker wish he was never born. I don’t care what it takes to clean up or how much it takes to keep shit quiet. You just do what needs to be done.”

I nod and crack my knuckles, getting ready to unleash all hell as we pass the mile marker letting us know we’re almost there.

13

A ria

IT’S A NIGHTMARE. The worst nightmare I’ve ever had.

Only it hurts. It hurts so much. Nightmares don’t hurt. They don’t make tears spring to your eyes when the pain gets to be too much.

I always knew Dale wanted to hurt me. I knew he hated me.

I had no idea it was like this.

“Why are you doing this?” I’ve asked him so many times, but he doesn’t hear me. It’s like he’s not here. He’s walking around the cabin, staring at me and muttering to himself, but his brain’s someplace else. “Dale, talk to me. Why?”

“Shut up.” He goes to the right side of the bed, where he’s tied my wrist to the heavy wooden post. Same with the other wrist, so both arms are outstretched.

The rope bites into my skin when I stay still, so moving around and trying to get free makes the pain agonizing. But I have to. I can’t just lie here and let him do things to me.

His face looks like a Halloween mask, and I’m glad it does. I’m glad Knox hurt him like that. There’s a gash on his forehead, stitched and bandaged. His nose is broken, and both eyes are blackened. His upper lip is split, and it looks like he’s missing at least two teeth when he offers a grotesque smile.

I force myself to keep looking at him rather than turning away in disgust. I won’t let him intimidate me like that. He can’t win.

“Why did you bring me here? Why couldn’t we stay at the house?” My voice is trembling. I have to stop that. “What are we doing here?”

“I told you to shut up! Bitch.” He takes my hand and twists it, making the rope chafe my skin worse than ever. I bite down on my lip until I can taste blood, but I won’t scream. I won’t.

He lets go, grinning with those awfully, bloody lips of his. “You made him come to the house, didn’t you? You told him you wanted—what? For him to kill me? Or was he supposed to beat me and scare me off? How did you plan it?”

“I didn’t plan anything.” I smile at him. “He kicked the shit out of you because he wanted to. Because you deserved it.”

“Shut up!”

“You asked me a question.”

What few parts of his face that aren’t bruised turn red. “Smart-ass with a smart little mouth. I’ll show you how to use that smart mouth.”

Oh, my God.

I never once got the idea he wanted this from me. Not once. He hates me because I cost him so much money and was such a burden on him. I’m not really his kid, so he hated having to do so much for me.

That was what I always believed, anyway. Now, I’m starting to think he treated me like he did for another reason. He never touched me in a sexual way. I never caught him looking at me like he wanted me.

Now? There’s no reason for him to hold back. We’re alone, in the middle of nowhere, and only one other person knows where to find us. If Mom didn’t try to stop him from taking me here, she’s sure as hell not going to do anything to stop this.

Does she even know what he has in mind? She couldn’t, or why would she have let me go with him?

Sweat starts to run down the back of my neck. Cold, icy. Nauseating. It intensifies when Dale comes closer to the bed. He’s staring at my body, his eyes moving over it, one inch at a time. He looks like a man who’s been starving and finally made it to the feast. I’m going to be sick.

He climbs onto the bed, then reaches into his back pocket. My heart clenches at the sight of a pocketknife. “Finally. You’re mine.”

“No. No!” I try to twist away from him, but it’s no use. The ropes are burning my skin. He tied them so tight, there’s no chance of me getting free. Still, I don’t make it easy for him, twisting and bucking my hips while I scream. While I shriek.

He flings himself over me and eventually straddles my body. I try to throw him off, but it’s no use. He’s too heavy, too determined to hold me down. I try to raise my knees into his back, but I can’t reach. I can’t reach his balls, either. All this is doing is hurting me, exhausting me. My strength is already starting to wane.

And all he’s doing is laughing. “Keep fighting. See how far it gets you.” He opens the knife. The sight of it gleaming in the light from the bedside lamp makes me fight harder than ever. I’m panicking. I’m starting to lose it.

“All mine. Nobody here but you and me.” He sighs almost sweetly, staring at my body again—my chest, mostly. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve spent thinking about this. Dreaming about all the things I would do to you if I had you alone. All the ways I could use this body.”

“Don’t do this! You’re my stepfather, for fuck’s sake! Doesn’t that mean anything?”

He only laughs as he brings the knife down, down, down to my throat. I gasp, holding my breath, my eyes trained on the blade. I can’t make a move, or else he’ll stick me. That’s how close the blade is to my skin.

Instead of slicing me, he slices my shirt, then opens it. His mouth is open as his breath comes in short, ragged little gasps. It would be hideous enough without his face being the way it is.

“You don’t know what it does to a man to go so long without something he wants. I’ve had way too much time to imagine this—all the things we would do together once I had you alone.” He slides the knife under my bra strap, and I try not to whimper, but I can’t stop myself. One quick jerk and it’s cut, the same with the other strap.

Finally, he slides the blade under the strip of satin between the bra cups. I get the sense that he’s savoring this, taking his time, letting all the sick fantasies he’s ever had about me run through his head before he slices my bra open.

I hate that he’s looking at me. Tears roll down the sides of my face as he stares at my tits. “Fucking perfect,” he grunts. I want to put that knife in his dick. I want to use it to pull his eyeballs out. More than anything, I want to die of shame.

He reaches out, and I watch in growing horror as he comes closer to my nipple. No, no, no—it plays on repeat in my head as I try with all my might to pretend this isn’t happening—even when he touches me, when his fingers close over my nipple and tweak it until I scream.

My high-pitched cry echoes through the small cabin, making my ears hurt. I hope it would make him stop, but he’s only getting more excited. I see his tiny dick getting hard, jutting out over my stomach. His breathing is faster, sharper. My stomach clenches, and I have to fight off the vomit trying to race into my throat. I don’t even think it would stop him if I threw up all over both of us. He’d probably make sure to hurt me more to punish me for it.

“I want you to call me Daddy.” He starts to tug at my pants. “I want you to call me Daddy while I fuck you.”

“Oh, my God, no!” I have to stop this. I have to get away. I’ll break the ropes, or I’ll kick him as he’s taking off my pants. I’m going to find a way out of it. I have to. This can’t happen. I’m screaming and sobbing, begging and sweating, and he’s loving it. All of it.

Until the window breaks.

We both freeze, eyes moving to where the glass suddenly burst inward. Could it be? Did he come for me?

A second later, I get my answer. The door flies open, and Knox storms in with another man, one of his brothers. I don’t care who he brought so long as he’s here and he’s saving me. “Knox!” I sob in relief while Dale sputters and curses.

Knox sizes up the situation in a single glance, then throws himself toward the bed and tears Dale off me. Dale hits the floor, his knife skittering across the wood planks. He’s dazed, obviously. I think he might’ve hit his head when Knox launched him.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe now. I’m Ace, Knox’s brother.” Ace unties my wrists, and I work my way to a sitting position while Knox pulls up one of the wooden chairs on the other side of the room. Dale’s fat, but Knox is strong. He puts Dale in the chair with no trouble.

“Here.” Ace gets my attention and drapes his jacket over my shoulders. I must be in shock because I just now realize my tits are out.

“Thank you,” I mutter, but my eyes stay glued on Knox.

He leans in until their noses are almost touching. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you I’d finish the job. But you couldn’t let it go, could you? You couldn’t keep your fucking head down and mind your own fucking life. No.”

He points at me without looking my way. “You had to fuck with what’s mine. Nobody fucks with what’s mine and gets away with it. You hear me?” He slaps Dale upside the head. “Answer me, you fucking prick. You sick son of a bitch.”

“Fuck you,” Dale snarls, which only gets him a backhand. His lip splits again, and fresh blood oozes down over his chin.

“That was the wrong answer, Dale.” Knox laughs when Dale tries to get up from the chair, as if somebody of his size—not to mention age—could outrun a younger, fitter man. Especially one as enraged as the one standing in front of him.

He looks at me, and the pain in his eyes reflects the pain I’m feeling. “What did he do to you?”

“Not much. Yet.” I glare at Dale, remembering what he said. “He was going to rape me and make me call him Daddy.” Ace flinches as he stands next to the bed, and I tuck the jacket closer.

Knox snarls, then turns back to Dale and smashes a fist into his face. “Oh, really? You think it’s okay to rape women? Your own stepdaughter? How sick do you have to be to even think about shit like that?” This time, he punches Dale in the stomach and makes him double over.

“Come on. I should get you out of here.” Ace reaches for me, but I shake my head.

“I want to stay.” I look at Knox, hoping he agrees with me. “Yes. I need to watch this.” The brothers exchange a look.

Knox turns back to Dale. “Fair enough. I guess she deserves to watch this after everything you’ve done to her.”

He then reaches into his back pocket. Dale gasps when he sees the blade protruding from the handle. I don’t gasp, but my eyes do go wide at the sight of it.

He’s going to kill him. He’s actually going to do it.

I want him to. The feeling is so strong, so real. I want him to do it, and I want to watch every second.

Dale’s mouth falls open. “No. No, no, you’re not gonna do this. You’re trying to scare me, is all. Fine. I’ll leave her alone from now on. Okay? Is that what you want?”

“Not anymore, it isn’t.” Knox waves the blade around, and I swear, he’s loving this. I barely recognize his ugly snarl or the sound of his voice. “Now, I want you to suffer. I want you to suffer bad. This is all your fault. You could’ve avoided this.”

He lunges, shoving the knife into Dale’s crotch.

Dale’s shriek is ear-splitting, enough to make me want to cover my ears. But I don’t. I won’t. I want to hear it. I deserve to. I watch as a dark red stain starts to spread over his pants and remember wanting to do that myself.

“That’s what happens when you try to put your dick where it doesn’t belong, you piece of shit.” Knox forces Dale to stay on the chair, bracing him with an arm across Dale’s chest, their foreheads touching. Dale hasn’t stopped screaming, but that doesn’t bother Knox. The blood is starting to run down the inside of Dale’s pants, soaking through, dripping onto the floor.

Knox twists the knife. Dale’s screams turn to howls which soon break when his voice does. All that comes out is gurgling noises. His body starts to twitch and jump as he gasps for air, as his head lolls from side to side and his lips move but nothing comes out. I realize the life is draining from him, that he’s bleeding out. Dying in front of me.

“If you want to say your piece, you better do it now,” Knox tells me, and I can think of only one thing to tell Dale before he dies.

“Rot in hell, asshole.”

And then it’s over. He goes silent, his head falling back. His eyes are open, staring at the ceiling. The cabin is eerily quiet except for the beating of my heart, like a drum in my ears.

Knox takes his knife back and wipes it on the quilt before retracting the blade and putting it in his pocket. “Got what you deserved, fucker.” His eyes find me sitting against the headboard, my arms wrapped around me. Now that it’s over, I’m not sure how to feel. Right now, there’s only relief.

“Let’s get you out of here. But first, get out of my brother’s jacket. There is only one guy’s clothes you’re allowed to wear. Mine.” Smiling, I shrug out of Ace’s jacket and watch Knox pull off his own. He helps me into it, and then we head out of the cabin. I’m leaning against his chest and can feel his heart pounding. I don’t think it’s regret or guilt making that happen, especially when I notice his grim smile.

Ace mutters something into his phone while I get in the back seat of the car, where Knox joins me. I can’t speak. I’m afraid if I do, I might start crying. I know I will.

Not for Dale. For me. For what might’ve happened if Knox had gotten there even a few minutes later than he did.

“I’ve got you.” Knox wraps his arms around me and holds me close, stroking my hair and murmuring soft, comforting things in my ear as Ace gets behind the wheel. I close my eyes and let myself rest now that it’s over. Finally.

14

K  nox

WHEN ACE DROPS US OFF, I stay silent and carry her inside. She’s seen me irate, but never this bad. I just killed her tormentor in front of her, and I don’t know how she feels. And honestly, I’m scared to ask.

At this point, she’s nestled her way into my heart, and I can’t bear to think about losing her. Or even worse, her leaving me because of the monster I am.

After we make it up my front steps and inside, I keep her clutched in my arms. She’s safe there, and nothing can hurt her. I carry her into my room, then step into the attached bathroom. Gently, I set her down on the closed toilet as I hurry back to my dresser and grab a T-shirt.

When I step back inside, she’s in the same spot I left her. I reach into my shower and turn the knobs, making sure the water is the right temperature before standing her up. I slip my jacket from her arms, then undo my pants and kick them off.

As the steam builds in the small space, I help her inside, still remaining silent, and urge her body under the stream of warm water. As gently as I can, I squeeze some shampoo into my hands and massage her scalp. I do the same to the rest of her body—washing every inch of her flesh to get his touch off her.

The entire time, her eyes stay locked onto me, but she doesn’t speak either. I don’t know if it’s shock from witnessing what I did or fear. Just as I’m about to ask if she’s okay, her mouth opens, and my name tumbles from her lips. “Knox?”

I still my hands on her body and look at her.

“Thank you.” The statement is short and barely a mumble, but it makes my stomach erupt with joy.

I give her a curt nod before continuing what I was doing before.

“What happens now?” she asks, this time a little louder than before. “I don’t need protection anymore.”

She sounds almost sad by the truth of her words as the realization dawns on me. “But you’ll always need me like I’ll always need you.”

“I will,” she whispers and steps forward.

Her arms wrap around my neck, and instinctively, I lower my lips to hers. It’s like my body works on its own without any thought around her. It knows it needs to touch her—to be close—and I don’t complain. Because the only place I ever want to be for the rest of my life is with her. Or in her.

She deepens our kiss, hiking her leg around my waist, but I want this time to be different. I want to show her, that just for her, I can be gentle. I push her leg back down and cup her cheeks in my hands, kissing her softer, flicking my tongue over hers lightly.

She breaks our kiss. “I think I may love you, Knox.”

Her comment catches me off guard because love isn’t something I even know how to explain. But the more I play her words over in my head, the more I think I start to grasp it.

The way she’s the only thing I see when I close my eyes, I think that’s love. Or how my body instantly relaxes in her presence and warmth washes over me, I think that could be it too. Fuck. I think I may love her too.

“I—” I start, but she raises her finger to my lips to silence me.

“Don’t say it yet.”

She backs up, dragging me with her until her body hits the wall. Again, she raises her leg and wraps it around me. I push into her slowly, then grab her other thigh and lock it around me. Her hands find my hair with the first thrust. Her fingers tangle in my hair and yank my head back so my eyes can stare into hers as I fuck her.

I wanted to be gentle—I really did—but seeing the want in her gaze fuels the beast inside me.

I unleash it, sliding my hands down her slick body and gripping her ass. I dig my nails into her flesh, then pump into her over and over. “Mine,” I hiss in her ear, staking claim to something she’s so willingly giving me.

“Yours,” she replies, unclasping her hands from my hair and raking her fingernails down my back.

The stinging sensation is quickly washed away with the warm water pelting my back, giving way to complete pleasure as her pussy constricts around me. “Are you coming, baby?”

She nods vigorously, grinding her clit into my pelvis.

Her walls squeeze me, begging for a release of my own, but I’m not ready to stop. I step out of the shower with her still clinging to my body and walk to my room. As we make it to my bed, I turn and fall, letting my back sink into the mattress.

“Ride me.”

Her legs are already shaking, and her breaths are erratic, but she doesn’t protest. Placing her hands flat on my chest, she raises up slightly before slamming back down.

“Fuck,” I groan, letting a wave of pleasure wash over me. Her cunt squeezes me tightly with every movement. Her perky tits bounce with the movement, begging to be touched.

I lean up, needing to taste her. I wrap my hands around her hips to pull myself closer, then flick my tongue out over her nipple. It pebbles immediately as she lets out a soft moan.

I try to move away, but she holds my head in place. “No. Keep going. You’re replacing his memory with a better one.”

I know she’s talking about her piece of shit stepdad, which I hate, but there is nothing I can do about it. I’ve already done all I could when I killed him. But if this helps in an entirely new way, I’m not stopping. Her every thought about a mouth or hands on her, and a cock inside her, I want to be mine, and mine only. I move to the other one and massage it with my tongue the same way I did for the other.

“Now I’m going to come,” I breathe out, leaning my body back down to the bed.

A wicked smile tugs at her lips as she bucks her hips harder, and within seconds, my cum is being buried deep inside her. I’m not sure if it’s the high from coming or what, but I mumble the three little words that have never felt truer to me in my life. “I love you.”

EPILOGUE

A ria

IT’S amazing how fast life changes.

One day, I was suffering. Scared. Unwelcome in my own home, in my own family. Unable to control anything about my life. Glad to live through another day, wondering if I’d get the same chance tomorrow.

Now? Now, I wake up in the morning, and all I feel is love. Connection. Like I belong somewhere. Like I’m needed.

Because I wake up in Knox’s arms. We always sleep this way, and it’s the only way I can sleep soundly. He admitted to me not long after we first got together that he never used to sleep much before the first night he had me stay in his bed. Now? There are mornings when I wake up to the sound of him snoring in my ear.

I’ll take it. It means he’s feeling peaceful. I get the feeling he didn’t have a lot of peace in his life before we met.

Not that there’s much more peace now. He still does what he does for his family. I can accept that—his family is the most important thing in his life, and he considers me part of that. What he did to Dale, he would’ve done to anyone who dared hurt somebody who matters to him.

I don’t know how they cleaned up the cabin to hide what happened. The family probably has a lot of experience when it comes to things like that, so I’m sure it wasn’t difficult.

I know my mother’s gone, too. I didn’t ask many questions about that, and I have no intention of doing so. I don’t need to know the specifics. As far as she was concerned, I might as well not have been alive. She would’ve let her husband kill me and would’ve defended him afterward. I can’t bring myself to feel much pity for her when I remember that.

I’m sure they’ll both be declared legally dead in time, but right now, they’re only missing. I’m also sure people think it’s weird that I haven’t launched an investigation into what happened to them. The house sits dark, empty. I don’t even know if either of them had a will or if anything was even supposed to go to me.

It doesn’t matter. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.

I have everything I need.

Knox stirs against me, and I smile as I nestle closer to him. He’s so warm, so comforting. “Good morning,” he murmurs in my ear before kissing my cheek.

“Good morning.” I lift my head from his chest and smile up at him. He’s still sleepy, and something about that strikes me as adorable. He’d probably gag if I ever used that word to describe him, so I keep it to myself.

I still can’t get over this new feeling. Being glad to wake up. Knowing somebody wants me around, that my presence actually makes him happier. He gave me a life, one worth living. I never knew people lived like this—and even if I did, I wouldn’t have imagined it happening to me.

It takes a second, but I finally remember why today’s such a big deal. I’m going back to the gym for my first class in over a month. Lisa was great when I explained in vague details that I had needed time to get myself together. She didn’t ask for more. Once again, I had the feeling she always knew more than she let on, and it seemed like she understood.

I can’t wait to get back to work, back to the kids. I never understood until now how bearable they made my horrible life—seeing their enthusiasm, watching how hard they were willing to work, and how overjoyed they were once they mastered a move. It always made me remember how I felt as a kid, how exciting it was to see the results of my hard work. Back when I had self-esteem and dreams.

I’m working on getting that back. It’ll take time, but the odds are in my favor thanks to the second chance at life Knox gave me and continues giving me every day.

We shower together like we do most mornings, only today he’s in too much of a hurry to do much more than wash up and head out. He’s been this way lately—distracted, in and out at random times. He’ll get phone calls I can tell he doesn’t want to take in front of me.

I know what I signed up for when I decided to make a life with him. He knows what he’s doing—he’s been working for his family for way longer than he’s known me. I can only hope he stays safe. Maybe one day it’ll be easier to deal with my worries and questions.

He comes back in the afternoon to drive me over to the gym. It’s nice not having to rely on a bus schedule anymore. “You excited to get back to work?”

“I am. I didn’t think I’d be this excited, but now that the day’s here, I can’t wait.” I’m practically bouncing in my seat as he drives. “I’m sure the kids will want to show me what they’ve learned. I’ve missed them.”

“I’m sure they’ve missed you, too.” He squeezes my knee with a little grin, and it strikes me how happy he looks. How relaxed he seems. It’s good to see him this way. It makes me believe I’ve added something to his life just like he added so much to mine.

I’m about to say that to him when we round the corner and the gym comes into view. “Wait. Why is it all dark? There are no cars in the lot. She’s never closed on Mondays. Why isn’t anybody here?”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Knox drives farther into the lot, parking near the door.

I jump out of the car and go to the windows. There aren’t any lights on in there, and I can’t see anybody moving around. “Lisa can’t afford to randomly be closed like this.” My heart sinks. I was so looking forward to getting back here today.

Knox rubs my back. “No offense, seriously, but you’re overthinking it.”

I hold my head in my hands. “Oh, my God, what if something happened, like she’s sick or something? Or what if she had to close? I had no idea she was going through trouble here. I wish she had told me.”

“Maybe it’s not that. Maybe she had to close for a little bit, like she’s getting it painted inside or something.” He cups his hands around his eyes and leans toward the window, trying to look inside. “Why don’t we see if we can go in?”

Right. Why didn’t I think of that? Because I’m too busy freaking out. “Yeah, if the door is even unlocked.” But it is, and Knox easily opens it.

“Hold on.” I take a few tentative steps inside. Knox flips on the light, and my head swings in one direction, then another. “I don’t get it. It’s all different.” There is new flooring, new walls. I can still smell the fresh paint and lumber.

Knox whistles. “It looks good, though.”

“It looks nothing like it did before. Lisa didn’t mention anything about renovating the place.” It’s not like we’ve talked every day or even once a week, though. Why would she think to call me and keep me in the loop? I was glad enough that she accepted my needing time away from work and didn’t want to press my luck by bothering her, so I’ve stayed under the radar. Now I wish I had been more involved somehow.

“Where did she get the money for this?” The rooms are incredible, with all new equipment—not so much as a patched mat or scuffed beam in sight. It practically gleams; it’s so new. The walls have been repainted, and the floors replaced in each of the rooms we pass. Even the offices look like they’ve been renovated.

“What do you think?”

I jump in surprise at the sound of Lisa’s voice. She’s standing behind us, smiling from ear to ear while I sputter in shock. “What is all this? I had no idea you were renovating.”

She waves her arms around. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! It’s absolutely gorgeous! Like, dream-come-true levels of gorgeous.” I can’t stop gushing over it. “I would’ve loved to train in a gym like this when I was competing.”

“What about owning a gym like this?”

My head snaps back. “Sure. That would be good, too.” Where did that come from? I look at Knox, wondering if he thinks this is as weird as I do, but his expression is unreadable.

“Because you do.” Lisa covers her mouth with her hands while tears sparkle in her eyes. “We both do. We’re partners.”

I think I need to sit down. All the air leaves my lungs in one big gust. “What?” I manage.

“She’s telling the truth.” Knox’s arm hooks around my waist, holding me up. “You’re half-owner now, along with Lisa. I put up the money for the renovations.”

Now I really need to sit. And maybe a drink would be good. “Are you serious?”

“You wanted to know why I’ve been ducking in and out so much lately? Now you know. Surprise.” He presses a kiss against my forehead while Lisa cries, still beaming.

It’s all too much to make sense of. I can’t get it to come together in my head. “You’re saying you did all this for me?” No wonder he’s been so secretive. No wonder he kept so much from me. Here I was, thinking he was up to the sort of stuff I didn’t want or need to hear about.

“Yeah. For you. And Lisa, too.” He pulls me closer. “But mostly you.”

“This is too much.” I can’t stop shaking my head. I can’t stop shaking in general.

“Nothing is too much for you. You deserve this. You have something of your own now.”

Lisa comes to me and gives me a hug. “What do you think, partner? You ready to help me run this place?”

Am I? This is the first time in so long anybody’s had faith in me. I’ve spent so long being told I’m worthless and stupid, lazy and useless. I always told myself I didn’t believe it, but maybe a tiny part of me did. After you hear something long enough, it’s bound to sink in.

But it’s my choice whether I want to believe it—and whether I want to move on with my life.

Which is why I nod with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. “Yes. I’m ready. I can’t wait to start.”

“Well, you won’t have to wait long. Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the changes before we officially re-open.” She links her arm with mine. “You’ll love it.”

I already do. What I love more is the man who’s now smiling at me, encouraging me to look around. Nobody would guess he’s capable of so much love and support. Nobody would imagine he’s so protective and gentle underneath that monstrous façade.

Only me. Because he’s mine—and lucky for me, I’m his. For always. Now, the future looks brighter than ever before.

Thank you for reading His Gymnast! If you enjoyed this short and spicy ready, check out the rest of this series.

And if you want 20 full length novels for only 99 cents get Tangled Sheets now!

ABOUT DARCY

If you like your stories short, taboo and kinky, then a Darcy Rose book is perfect for you. She writes about shy and innocent heroines, to match them up with dark and intense heroes who have only eyes for one girl.

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ABOUT BL

BL lives in north Texas with her husband and three children. She enjoys writing different sub genres of romance, and building flawed and broken characters. You can most likely find her mommy-ing, watching her husband cook (because she is a horrible chef), getting tattoos, or walking into the pole you've told her to watch out for. She loves interacting with her readers and other authors in the community. Friends and family classify her as fierce, loyal and ditsy at times.

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A dark, steamy, love triangle between a girl, her stepdad, and stepbrother.

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ALSO BY DARCY ROSE

VOW OF REVENGE

Stolen

Captive

Bound

STANDALONES

His Ballerina

Their Ballerina

His Gymnast

His Stripper (coming soon)

His Dancer (coming soon)

Christmas Obsession

Extra Credit

Table of Contents

Title Page

Contents

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

About Darcy

About BL

Also by Darcy Rose