Page 61 of Knox

He stalked toward me, and it felt like getting charged by a rhino.

Then Knox blocked Jackson’s path. “Back the fuck off, Jack.”

The authority in his tone sent an unbidden shiver down my spine.

Jackson glared daggers. “Get out of my way.”

“I’m not moving.”

“I’m not gonna kill her,” Jackson snapped. “But I sure as hell am gonna make her understand what she cost us.”

Knox squared his shoulders, not backing down. “She’s gone through enough.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jackson barked. “You’re gonna get her out of Reno, Knox. Tonight. And if she’s still here by morning…” Jackson shook his head. “There won’t be a conversation next time.”

I stepped forward to speak, but Knox half blocked my way. Stupid human shield. “I’m tired of causing issues,” I told the Devils. They all looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “I don’t want to interfere with any of you or your club anymore. I want to leave Reno, and I will. But first…”

I swallowed hard. I could shoot a man between the eyes easier than saying the two words I forced out between my teeth like they would poison me.

“I’m sorry.”

Jackson lost his shit.

“You think you can just say that shit and expect?—”

Knox blocked Jackson’s path again, shoving his president back with such force that it surprised the other guys. “Leave her the fuck alone, Jackson.”

“I just said I was leaving,” I said, trying not to sound accusatory.

Jackson’s wrathful glare flicked between me and Knox, and suddenly, I had a very bad feeling in my gut. I could tell he was considering something violent.

“Yeah, just you.”

Then he swung at Knox. The sound of knuckles slamming into jawbone was explosive.

Knox’s head jerked sideways. He spat blood, but his voice left no room for argument. “Not just her. I’m going with her. I’m getting her out of Reno.”

Jackson swung again. Knox dropped to his knees. “No,” the president seethed. “You’re fucking not. You are a Devil, not a chauffeur for a disgraced piece of Wolverine ass. I don’t want to call you a traitor, Royal Flush, but I will strip your patch if you give me reason to.”

Before Knox could get a word out, Jackson slammed his boot into Knox’s shoulder to push him onto his back. I sucked in a sharp breath. How could he be so cruel?

“You’re thinking with your dick, not your head,” Jackson growled. “Your damn heroics—fuck.” He cut himself off, his voice cracking. “If you weren’t conned into saving the siren bitch of Reno, Gabriel wouldn’t be dead.”

Okay, that’s not gonna fly.

“Get off him, you brute!” I shouted, lurching forward. I was terrified of Black Jack and what he would do to Knox just to prevent him from helping me. I wouldn’t stand by and watch my savior be beaten to a pulp, nor was I going to let myself be called a siren bitch.

“Caroline,” Knox croaked. “No?—”

Jackson pulled out his gun. It happened so fast. I stumbled to an immediate, horrified halt when the barrel pointed at my face.

The other Devils sounded off in disapproval, all of them jerking forward a step as if to intervene but wouldn’t dare cross their leader.

I raised my hands in surrender. I was frozen in place, but I was shaking like a leaf in a storm. Adrenaline was turning my limbs to jelly, but I kept standing. I would be damned if Jackson saw me as a doe in headlights.

I wanted to say I wasn’t afraid to die, but I was.

“Get off him,” I said, flicking my eyes to Knox, still on the grass. “He doesn’t have to help me. I’ll find my own way. Just leave him alone, and I’ll be gone. I have a ride waiting. Just stop fucking punching him. I want to refuse to believe you’re a bigger monster than my fa—than Walter Bates. I want you—all of you—to believe me when I say I’m sorry.”

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