Page 42 of Knot My MC
For a moment, I think she might protest, but the fight leaves her body. She nods and allows Jag to show her the way. Knox and I stare after them. A flutter of jealousy fills my chest, but I stomp it down. Jag is pack.
Kiki belongs with us.
We’ll treat her like a goddamn princess because that’s what she deserves. I wish I had more to offer her. I can only hope my heart, and Knox’s and Jag’s, are enough for her. She has them, she always has.
We lost too much time with her, but starting now, we let Kiki know that regardless of what the auction might symbolize,sheowns us.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
KIKI
Jag’s bed is soft and warm. He doesn’t linger, instead leaving me and shutting the door behind him on his way out. I deflate and fall onto my back. His room is rich with the scent of grease from working on the bike, but underneath that are traces of memories. The smell is a reminder of the dangerous things we did together and how much fun we had doing them. I focus on those instead of the ache building in my chest. I kick off my shoes and lay my head on his pillow, breathing in his scent.
“Come on, Kiks,” he said with a toothy grin. “Scared?”
“Screw you.” I snatched the rock from his hand and turned toward the liquor store. Only a dingy yellow light lit the parking lot. It was nearly midnight on a Sunday, and the store had closed hours ago. “Why are we here again?”
“For the tequila,” Crow quips.
“Because the manager thought it would be a good idea to date a fifteen-year-old.” Jag scowls at the building.
Ew. “And how does stealing tequila make that better?”
Strong arms band around my waist as Jag pulls me against him. “Throw the rock and I’ll show you.”
“We’ll get in trouble,” I say like an idiot.
“Only if we get caught. We’d never risk that with you, Kiks.”
And I believed them. The window shattered easily, and while Knox and Crow went to snatch some bottles, Jag and I went to the counter at the front. He extracted photos from his pocket and spread them out. Twelve of them. All showing the manager kissing a child.
Fucking pervert.
The guy is still rotting in prison.
I trusted them so much back then. Part of me wants to go back to that without asking any questions. Their explanation is plausible, but convenient. And Crow’s leg? I swallow and bury myself beneath the blankets.
I wish Dad were here. Moisture pools, and I pinch my eyes shut, counting my breaths and fighting the tears. I lose and a few track down my cheek. I grind my teeth and curl my fingers into fists. Burying my head into Jag’s pillow, I focus on his scent and use it to keep me calm.
My stomach pangs with hunger and my skin grows uncomfortably hot, but I don’t kick the blanket off. I wrap it tighter around me and cling to it.
I can’t keep fighting the grief. I know that, but I don’t want to fall apart.Be tough, Kiki.Dad would sit and stew in his grief, letting it turn to anger rather than tears. I don’t think I can do that. I don’t know that Iwantto. A thick lump lodges in my throat and heat flares across my face. I swallow and bite my cheek to keep a sob from escaping as the tears are finally unleashed. The ache in my chest grows and takes over everything. I fight to breathe as reality roundhouse kicks me in the jaw.
How the hell am I supposed to live without the only person who ever cared about me? What’s the fucking point?
That thought rips a sob from my throat, shredding my control with wicked sharp talons, leaving nothing but tears and pain behind.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
KNOX
She’s only in Jag’s room for five minutes before I want to shove inside of it and force her into my arms. Her anger I can take, but that bone deep keening? The goddamn fragility in her cries? I can’t handle that. Pacing across the living room floor, I shoot furtive looks at the door, wishing like hell I had laser vision or something to let me know she’s okay.
Crow is banging around in the kitchen, distracting himself in the only way he knows how. Kiki said she wasn’t hungry. That won’t stop him from making food for her. When she’s ready, he’ll have food waiting. Jag is sitting unnaturally still on the couch. His chest heaves, and he doesn’t even try to hide what he’s staring at.
“How long until we go in there?” Crow grumps from the kitchen.
Now.
