Page 144 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

Knox steps inside, the door closing behind him. He moves through the suite like a man on a mission—checks the empty bed, the bathroom, the corners. Idiot even drops to his knees to look under the bed.

“Satisfied?” I ask.

Knox pushes off the floor and exhales. “Not really, no.”

“Well, whatever’s up your ass today, I can’t help you. So if you don’t mind…”

I gesture toward the door, eyes closing again, ready to disappear into the nothingness.

I listen to him move. One step, then two. Not toward the door. Towardme.

I startle as he drops onto the couch beside me with a solid thud.

“What are you doing, Knox?”

“At the moment, nothing,” he says. “In a minute, I’m gonna ask you a very important question, and then I’ll figure out what to do after that.”

“If it involves hitting me or causing physical discomfort of some kind, let me save you the trouble. Feeling pretty rock bottom already today.”

“Why? My band’s in shambles. I can’t even look at my best friend. My sister is missing. Without her, the others won’t go on, so The Battle of the Bands is basically yours. You got everything you wanted, didn’t you?”

“Is that your important question?”

“No, but answer it anyway.”

“No,” I say, looking at him. “I didn’t get everything I wanted. What do you mean Katrina’s missing?”

“Pretty self-explanatory, ain’t it? She’s not at home. Not at the hotel. Not with her friends, not here with you. She’s not answering calls or texts. She’smissing. Are you in love with her?”

The question hits like a slap. But it’s the rising panic beneath it that really sinks in.

Katrina’s missing?

“Logan.” Knox turns toward me. His eyes don’t flinch. “Are you in love with my sister?”

“Is that your important question?”

“No. Still working up to that.”

“Why do you care?” I ask. “It’s not like you’d ever approve.”

He doesn’t answer. Just sits there, staring, waiting for somethingreal.

Words should come easy. I’m a songwriter, an artist. But these don’t.

These words feel like the hardest I’ve ever had to say.

“I’ve loved Katrina Benton since the moment I laid eyes on her.”

Knox’s eye twitches before he looks away. I see the gears grinding, slow and messy, as he tries to make sense of the last twenty-four hours. Maybe even the last three months.

“Don’t bother trying to make sense of it,” I say. “None of it matters, anyway.”

He chuckles.

I glance over, puzzled. “What?”

“Nothing, just…” He shakes his head. “I used to say the same thing about Kat. Don’t try to make sense of her. She’s got her own way of doing things. Her own way of seeing the world.” He looks at me, and something in his face softens. “Logan, I don’t know how much my sister told you about us. About where we came from.”

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