Page 151 of Fighting Mr. Knight

“I’m babysitting.”

He narrows his eyes on me.

“Poppy’s in the garden.”

Tristan looks out the window to see my seven-year-old niece.

“She’s the only company I can tolerate right now,” I say wryly.

They follow me into the kitchen.

“Were you working today?” Tristan’s lips quirk. “You can never tell with you since you dress like a fitness instructor rather than a CEO.”

I wave off his words. “What’s the point of being a CEO if you can’t wear what you like? Anyway, I worked from home today.”

Danny eyes me. “Since when do you work from home? You look rough. Very buff but rough. Is that all you’re doing now—punching the shit out of a boxing bag?”

“And my trainer. There are worse things I could be doing for stress relief.”

“True.” He shrugs. “I’m glad you’re hiding here rather than out banging women like you usually do when something goes wrong.”

“I’d rather have my dick slammed in a door than pick up a woman.” There would always be women. Plenty of women. But I had no interest in another pointless night with a woman I had no connection to.

He pauses and glances at Tristan before turning his attention to me. “So, are you going to keep us hanging? Your messages were a little cryptic. Have the police taken him in for questioning yet?”

“No.” I open the fridge and rummage through the mountains of meat to find three beers.

“Why not?” Danny asks.

I lean against the open fridge. “I haven’t told them about Bonnie’s dad yet.”

“Why not?” Tristan prompts.

“I don’t fucking know, mate,” I snap, slamming the fridge door closed. Ignoring them, I flip the lids off the beers with an opener.

Danny leans over the kitchen counter to take a beer. “I think you do know.” He pauses, studying me. “When did you see her last?”

“Four days ago.” An uneasiness fills my gut. I didn’t plan for us to have rough sex. Hell, I didn’t even plan for her to come to my house. “It’s over. I’ve nipped it in the bud.”

“You’venipped it in the bud?” Danny barks, folding his arms over his chest.

“Do you hear yourself?” Tristan chips in, inspecting me through slanted eyes. I’m not in the mood for their little tag team pep talk. “So, what, that’s it? You’re not going to try to work through this?”

“I don’t tolerate liars,” I say through clenched teeth.

Danny sighs. “I don’t know the girl well but I’m sure she was just scared, Jack.”

“She lied to me for weeks. Maybe years.” I let out an angry laugh. “Who the fuck knows?”

Danny shakes his head, frowning. “People make mistakes. That’s how relationships work.”

I glare back at him. “Since when are you the morality police?”

He swears under his breath. “Hasn’t she been punished enough? You’re not the only one who has lost a parent here. Bonnie might never be able to have the same relationship with her dad.”

“That’s not my problem anymore,” I bite back. “I don’t trust her. If she told me we would have worked through it.” I rub my neck, agitated. “I don’t blame her for her dad’s actions, I blame her for lying to me. I disclosed everything to her—what Wicks said, what was happening with the barmaid, and she still lied to my face. She might never have told me if I hadn’t found the ring.”

“Okay.” Tristan nods. “I get that. But you can be a little intimidating sometimes, Jack. Especially about this. She was probably scared to lose you.”

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