Page 167 of Misrule
Squelching the urge to roll the magazine up and bat the piss out of him, she flipped to the next page. “I might, but I don’t want Knox to see it, boy, so shut up.”
“Considering the motherfucker standing on the other side of you, he saw it.”
“You’re working on my last goddamn nerve, Mortician.” She moved away and went back to the other side of the table. “I will do this later. If you have a problem with that, kiss my ass.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“No, motherfucker, you’re just trying to interfere.”
“He’s nottrying, Roxanne,” Knox inserted. “He’s succeeding.”
Grabbing the bowl of raw eggs, Roxy ignored the sloshing contents. She set the bowl on an unlit burner, braced her hands on the edge of the counter and stared at nothing, feeling the aura of Knox’s presence and the weight of Mortician’s judgment.
Hands on her shoulders turned her. Knox guided her to the stool that she always neglected.
“Sit.”
Her head was pounding, and her heart seemed to be in tiny little pieces, so she sat.
“Mortician, I need to talk to Roxanne alone for a minute,” Knox said, not taking his gaze from her.
Mortician’s quick retreat surprised Roxy, but she didn’t comment. Her gaze honed-in on the wedding magazines she’d left behind.
“Roxanne.” Knox placed his hands on her shoulders again and squeezed gently. “I’ll do anything to take your pain anyway. Tell me what to do. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I’m human, Knox.”
“You’re shutting down on me completely and will never take me back.”
“I don’t intend to take you back ever.”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the back of her head. “You have to. I’m lost without you.”
She disentangled from his embrace and got to her feet to face him. “We’re not doing this ad nauseum. You spoke your truth. I made my decision.”
“Really? Outlaw told me we’re still engaged. Was that a lie?”
“You know fucking well it was. It was…”
“To save my life,” he finished for her. “As Outlaw implied. And, yet, if your performance around Mortician is any indication, you may as well have allowed them to kill me the day before yesterday. You’re not acting like we’re still engaged.”
His call-out rang with truth; she had no response.
“You look exhausted,” he told her.
“Why don’t I get you and me cups of coffee. You sit while I finish breakfast for those brutes.”
Annoyance burst through her and she leveled him with an unhappy look.
“Fine,” he bit out. “Thebrothers. Better?”
“Slightly,” she agreed, leaning against the butcher block table so she wouldn’t guide Knox to the stool and tend to his injuries. “Thank you but no. They need edible food.”
“I’ve watched you cook many, many times, sweetheart. I can do this. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.”
Pride told her to say no. However, it would be false pride, and would only get her burned fucking food. She was in no state-of-mind to cook right now.
“You can keep me company, while I work. You don’t have to say anything to me. At least it’ll keep up the illusion that all is well between us.”
