Page 128 of Knight

The night air hits my face when I step onto the street, and the security gate slides closed behind me with a soft click when I leave the gated complex, but each block I put between us helps clear my head. My chest tightens and loosens with each step, like my body can’t decide if this is relief or grief.

The bus shelter provides somewhere to rest while my legs remember how to work properly. When the bus pulls up, I get on it. The driver nods when I purchase a ticket, and I sink into a seat near the back.

It’s crazy to think that in such a short space of time, Knight took me from hostage to something more. From someone he held at gunpoint to someone who shared his bed, and saw past his walls long enough to glimpse the man behind the hacker front he presented.

In some ways, I understand why he pushed me away. It really isn’t any surprise he pulled back to the comfort of his computers.

But it doesn’t mean I should settle for less than everything.

The city looks different at night. Or maybe the way I’m looking at it is different now. Every security camera is a reminder of his presence. He’s changed how I see the world, taught me to look for exits and cameras and threats that probably don’t exist.

My neighborhood comes into view, but I stay on the bus. I'm not ready to go home yet. Not ready to deal with the urge to check my phone for messages that won’t come. Knight retreats when things get too real. I learned that quickly. It’s what he does. Who he is.

The irony is, I understand him better now than I did in those few intense days we spent together. The past four weeks of knowing he’s always watching taught me exactly who he is. A man who lives through screens because computer code makes sense to him in ways people never will. Who hides behind sarcasm because feelings can’t be controlled with keystrokes.

When I finally step off the bus, I take my keys out of my pocket and thread one between my fingers like a makeshift weapon. My free hand stays near the opening of my bag where the taser rests, its presence a small comfort as I scan my surroundings. Every shadow could mean danger, every sound apotential warning. Footsteps echo faintly behind me, but when I glance over my shoulder, the street is empty. I keep walking, muscles tense, every nerve on high alert.

My gaze checks between parked cars, alleyways, and dimly lit doorways, cataloging potential hiding spots and escape routes. This hyper-vigilance is new, another gift from Knight's world of threats and risks. I don't breathe easily until I'm up the four flights of stairs and at my apartment door. It's dark inside, but I don’t turn on the lights immediately. Instead, I stand in the shadows I learned to appreciate from him, looking at my space with new eyes.

A couple of weeks ago I’d have given anything to have him reach out. To know those cameras following my movements meant something more than just surveillance. His message through my work computer felt like a step toward honesty, but it doesn’t erase the weeks he spent watching instead of speaking. It doesn’t erase the decision he made to push me away.

Tea won’t fix anything, but I make it anyway. The routine helps settle my thoughts. Michael finally moved back into his own apartment last week, leaving behind a strange quiet I haven’t figured out how to fill. It’s given me more space to think. Too much, maybe. Space to replay the moments with Knight, to untangle the mix of emotions his presence brings.

But I’m done pretending. I’m done accepting his sarcastic deflections as answers. What we had was brief but real. It was real enough to terrify him into retreating behind his walls. Real enough to make him spend four weeks watching me through cameras instead of actually talking to me.

I can’t go back to that. I won’t accept anything less than him actually stepping out of his apartment long enough to reach for something real.

My tea grows cold while I stare out at the city. Somewhere in his building, behind gates and security systems, Knightis probably sitting at his computers. A man who once held me captive, who pushed me away, who now wants ... what? Connection without risk?

I close my eyes thinking about the way he stood in his dark apartment, trying to joke his way past walls he built himself. Trying to reach for something while keeping enough distance to feel safe.

But safe isn’t enough for me anymore. Half-measures and sarcastic deflections aren’t enough.

He has to decide if I’m worth the risk. He has to decide if it’s worth stepping away from his coding, and feeling something he can’t control.

It’s his choice to make.

I won’t be living under his surveillance waiting for him to figure it out.

The darkness wraps around my apartment like a blanket. My books stare down at me from their shelves—stories of people making better choices than I seem capable of tonight. Walking away from Knight was the right decision, but that doesn’t make it easier.

I strip out of my clothes, dropping them in a trail to the bathroom. Hot water won’t wash away the memory of standing in front of him, and watching him try to hold onto control. But it might help ease this tightness in my chest.

The shower’s spray drowns out everything except my thoughts. I don’t fight the memories as they surface. Being handcuffed to his radiator, helping rescue Michael, climbing up the side of his building. Each moment taught me something about who Knight really is. Not just a hacker who prefers computers to people, but someone who calculates every risk before taking action.

Except with me. I slipped past his defenses before either of us realized what was happening. No wonder he retreated. Nowonder he pushed me away. I was the one variable he couldn’t control.

My reflection in the fogged mirror shows someone different from the woman who first walked into his apartment carrying that phone. I’m not naive anymore. Not desperate enough to accept digital connection as a substitute for something real.

Dressing, I go back to the main room, and curl into my reading chair with a book I won’t actually read. The words blur while I think about what happens next. Tomorrow, I’ll go to work, knowing his cameras might follow my movements. I’ll check my bank account for more deposits I won’t spend.

But that’s tomorrow’s problem.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

Knight

Four weeksof watching Eva rebuild her life after I pushed her away. Four weeks of sending money she won’t touch. Four weeks of proving her right about my cowardice.

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