Page 35 of Within Shadows
“I owe you twenty,” Al huffs. Knox smirks and shrugs, cleaning everything up and setting the first aid kit on the counter.
“Told you that my girl has no self-preservation instincts,” Knox says, kissing the side of my head, and rubs my thighs as he steps between them. I scramble, trying to keep myself covered, but Al keeps his gaze on the wall beside us.
“There’s a purring ball of fur in my bed.” Al picks a stray cat hair off of his chest with a raised brow, and I cringe.
“I’m sorry, we must not have brought him back to Knox's room,” I apologize.
“Ourroom,” Knox corrects, and I roll my eyes.
“He’s fine, but he’s a bed hog,” Al chuckles, and I shake my head. Atticus really does have a way of wedging himself into everyone's heart.
“You scared the shit out of me, Maeve. Waking up to you gone from the bed and hearing you scream, I thought something had happened.” He bumps his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath. Al opens the fridge, tossing something over his shoulder that Knox catches without looking away from me.
“Bottled water is on the top shelf, terrible for the environment but beats having a glass lobbed at my head. Nice aim, by the way.” Al snorts, walking back towards his room. He stops, squinting at us over his shoulder.
“No fucking where we eat, and put some damn pants on when you leave your cave, animals. You’ll traumatize that cat,” Al basically growls in disgust, stomping away. Knox grins, his fingers inching under my shirt as he pushes it higher. He flips me over his shoulder, smacking my ass as he marches us towards his room, with me squealing and fighting every step.
Chapter 22
Knox
My eyes fly open, and I nearly lurch from the bed; the only thing that stops me is the woman sleeping on my chest. I can still hear her scream from my nightmare, echoing in my ears with every panicked heartbeat.Oliver had her and stabbed her over and over as I was forced to watch the life bleed from her.My stomach rolls as the memory from my dream replays a nauseating amount of times.Maeve shifts, face scrunching in her sleep as she rolls away, and I watch every slow breath she takes.
Forcing myself out of bed, I tug on a pair of sweats, taking one last look back at her before I leave. Al is sitting at the breakfast nook, glaring at me over his cup of coffee as I walk past. He usually has a case of resting bitch face, but this is somehow worse.
“Problem?” I ask, pouring Maeve and I each a cup of coffee.
“You fuck like wild animals, run around without pants on, abandon the cat, and ask ifIhave a problem?” he huffs, and I wave a hand at the pants I’m very obviously wearing now. And the cat curled up happily on the couch in the living room.
“Jess wasn’t here last night, so you’re pissy with me because you didn’t get laid? At least you didn’t sleep alone.” I shake my head, hiding my smile as I sip my coffee and pull out eggs to fry up for breakfast. I load the toaster as I wait for the pan to heat and turn, giving Al my attention. He looks almost defeated beneath the anger.
“Somebody told her about Jasmine.” The cold, dejected tone he uses is something I’m familiar with whensheis brought up. Jasmine was Al’s fiancée, at one time. Before she tried to kill him when he caught her cheating and dumped her. She wrecked his car with both of them in it, but Al was the only one to survive the crash.
“So?” I ask, waiting for him to continue. He rubs a hand over his head before resting his chin on his folded hands.
“They told Jess that I killed Jasmine, and because I had never told her about the whole thing, she thought there was more that I could be hiding or lying about.” Al is hurting, and seeing Maeve forgive me so easily only rubbed salt in the wound. I crack open a few eggs, careful not to drop shells into the bowl as I watch him from the corner of my eye. I spent countless hours in a hospital chair, watching Al fight for his life, only to see him relive that night over and over again. It almost broke him, and now somebody has dug up dirt on him and told Jess, for what reason?
“Who told her?” I ask.
“No clue. Doesn’t matter, it wasn’t me. But I should’ve told her.” He shrugs, leaning back to stare down at the scars on his arms.
“Yet you were riding my ass about hiding things from Maeve, somebody was projecting,” I mutter, and Al groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Is she always super jumpy? Should I start wearing a helmet?” Al changes the subject, and I shake my head.
“Not normally, I think she was just on edge being in a new place.” But it felt like something more. She pulled the curtains shut in my room and asked me to make sure the doors were locked more than once. Had she seen something that we didn’t? Or did Detective Hard-On get in her head? The sound of my bedroom door opening cuts through my thoughts, and I turn, a smile tugging my lips as I watch Maeve shuffle out, rubbing her eyes with a sleepy yawn.
“Go talk to Jess in person and explain everything,” I say quietly, holding my arm out as Maeve walks up to me. She leans into my embrace, wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her face in my chest.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” I say, kissing the top of her head and offering a cup of coffee to her. She moans, taking the cup in her cold hands.
“I think I love you,” she breathes the words and freezes, both of us holding our breath.
“Thank you,” she stammers, turning on her heel and plopping down across from Al. He regards her, looking over her arm, and lets out a soft sigh in relief. He was feeling bad about grabbing her, but I was grateful that he saved her from getting more glass in her feet.
She glances out the window in the kitchen again, biting her lip before she starts drinking her coffee, and I frown but let it go when the toast pops up. Atticus trots in, hopping into her lap as he lets out a yawn. I plate enough breakfast for the three of us and sit next to Maeve, sliding her up to me and draping one of her legs over mine. Atticus stretches out, happily accepting the extra lap space. Maeve huffs, but I see the smile she tries to hide, and Al looks like he wants to stick his fork in my hand when I wrap my arm around her. We eat in relative silence until Al’s phone rings, and he nearly flips the entire booth, leaping up and racing for the door.
Maeve gives me a questioning look, but I just shrug it off and gather our empty plates. While rinsing the plates and loading the dishwasher, Maeve tries to creep up behind me. I peer over my shoulder, raising a brow at her, and she wraps her arms around me, propping her chin on my back with a shy smile. Trying to focus on dishes with her cute face pressed to my back is difficult, especially when all I can think about is bending her over the counter and—
