Page 21 of Misrule
“That’s old school shit,” Roxy snapped.
“No wonder your marriages didn’t last. Maybe, the provider part old school, but it’s relevant. I tell you, chile, you can’t handle a man for shit, if you don’t know that.”
“That isn’t true!” Roxy countered, crushed at those words. “I know how to handle men. But, maybe, Knox feels like Duke does. I mean he hates my ride and my language and—”
“Knox love you for the strong bitch that you are,” Pearllene interrupted. “Maybe, that iron will of yours intimidate him a little. Put that together with the way he feel about Outlaw and you got a recipe for a hurt ego over that Navigator. And, fuck, Roxanne, your fucking ass cuss worse than a fucking sailor, so I understand what the fuck the man mean. You give advice to all those little girls in that club. You need to learn how to apply it to your own damn life.”
“I apply it all the time.”
“Roxanne, baby, listen to me. You smart and beautiful and lively, but you so fragile when it comes to men. You been trodding along just fine, hoping Knox popped the question, and dreading it when he did. Don’t fuck this up. Talk to him. Tell him your stubbornness not about nothing more than nerves before he call the engagement off. You want that?”
“No, of course not. I haven’t talked to Knox in three days. He’s being as stubborn as I am.”
“His shit still there,” Pearllene reminded her. “He gotta come home some time. Call him and ask him to come now so you can talk.”
“Roxanne?”
Knox’s voice floated to her and she snapped her head in his direction. A gasp escaped her. His eyes were black, his nose bandaged, and his lip split. What happened to him? Oh fuck!
Mortician. He’d been upset because Bailey wouldn’t get to have her big wedding, so he’d gone and taken out his frustrations on Knox.
“Mama, I have to go. Knox is here.”
“Let me give you a suggestion. Me and Hamish use bacon grease to make his dick go in easier. But he love the taste and aroma of bacon pussy—”
“I’m not listening to this. Goodbye, Mama!”
“Remember, bacon pussy…”
Those words rang in Roxy’s ears as she disconnected the call and stood from the chair in the living room. All anybody had to do was talk to her mama to figure out why Roxy was the way she was.
Knox shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked on his heels. Besides him having his face looking as if it was on the wrong side of a battering ram, redness rimmed his amber eyes. Stubble shadowed his strong jaw. His blond hair was disheveled.
He was still one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen.
“What happened to you?”
He shrugged.
“Mortician got to you, didn’t he?”
Knox lifted a brow. “Mortician?” he sneered. “No, baby, it wasn’t your son-in-law. It was the thug. Outlaw.”
“I’m going to talk to him. He shouldn’t have hit you over what happened between us.”
“Don’t bother,” he said coldly. “It wasn’t on behalf ofyou.It was because I called him out on his ignorance.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means Outlaw is a goddamn brute.”
“No, it means you press your luck with those boys too damn much.”
They looked at each other for a moment and grinned.
“Roxanne, sweetheart, I’m so sorry for my assholery. Of course, we can have a double wedding. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Knox, I’m sorry for being so fucking insistent. We’d just gotten engaged and I should’ve respected that.” She rocked on her heels. “Or at least a-a-asked you.” She almost choked on her words, but her momma gave good advice.
