Page 11 of Knot My MC
“I wrecked his bike,” I point out.
Dad lifts one leg over the Harley and settles into the seat, side-eyeing me. “There wasn’t any damage.”
“Well, I wrecked it. Crashed into the cop car.”
Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “They didn’t tell me that.”
“So Axel doesn’t know?”
Dad shakes his head and pulls on his helmet. “No, and we’re going to keep it that way. Get on, Kiki.” The helmet muffles the sound, but I don’t miss the disappointment coloring his tone.
I slide in behind him. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
He pats my knee. “No more stunts like that, okay? I can only protect you for so long.”
“Okay.”
The bike roars to life. “I love you, you know that, right?” His voice is hard to hear over the engine, but his words have my chest tightening. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. He already lost a mate and losing me would have destroyed him. I’m lucky I didn’t get hurt. I’m lucky Axel isn’t out for blood, because if he were, my dad wouldn’t be able to stop him.
“I know. I love you too, Dad.”
I’ll be good from now on.
* * *
After eating a late lunch with Dad, I finally work up the courage to ask for my phone. He said I wasn’t grounded. Still, part of me is worried he’ll hold the device hostage to teach me a lesson.
“Did they uh, give you my phone?”
He laughs and drops the last plate into the dishwasher. “I was wondering when you were going to ask for the damn thing.” Jerking his thumb over his shoulder, he says, “It’s charging in the living room.”
“Thanks.” I rush out of the room and snag the device. Jogging up the stairs, I unlock my phone. I shut my bedroom door and flop onto my bed, staring at the screen.
No alerts. No missed calls or texts. I check my social media, just in case the guys tried to get ahold of me there, but there’s nothing. My stomach twists and a strange hollowness takes residence inside of my chest.
Knox kissed me last night for the first time. Crow held me like he was afraid to let me go. Jag pressed himself against me like he was trying to make us become one.
That felt a whole lot like they cared.
Had I misinterpreted things? Had I read too far into their actions and accepted it as more than it truly was?
Opening our group message, I stare at it. What do I say? I type out a message, asking what the fuck happened, but that’s accusatory and I don’t even know if they did anything wrong. My mind is a mess and I can’t jump to conclusions. We’re friends. I have to give them the benefit of the doubt.
I delete the first message and start over.
Kiki
I’m home. Want to meet up?
There. Simple. No half-veiled accusations.
I stare at the screen, waiting for one of them to respond. It never takes them long to get back to me. Two whole minutes pass and dread fills me. I couldn’t have been that stupid, right? We were friends.
We’ve been hanging out for almost three years. All the trouble we’ve gotten into had to force some sort of bond, regardless of whether it was romantic or friendly. There are only so many times you can almost die with another person before you start to feel close.
And then there’s the kiss. Knox’s mouth was firm and adamant on mine, like he needed to mark me with more than his scent. I run my finger over my lips at the memory. I’d been so shocked when his mouth claimed mine, but that only lasted a second. That kiss did something, changed something. But now I’m not sure what to think.
Why won’t they text me back?
