Knox Brotherhood

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “Get your hands off of me!” The man roared, but Cracker wouldn’t budge.

  “Lloyd, the boy knows what he’s doin’!”

  I could only wince at the sight of them given that there was a lack of time. With a heavy heart, I forced myself to turn my back on them as Cracker forced the man to backtrack their steps to the door. My hand grabbed my phone, and I dialed the number in with adrenaline running through my veins. As I raised the phone to my ear, Cracker shut the door with a slam. Ashley and I were left in silence with the only sound drawn from the idle tone.

  When the phone picked up, I breathed a sign of relief when a woman’s voice came over the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “Carter, you close to the club?” I spoke without hesitation.

  A cough emitted from the phone, “Fifteen minutes, give or take.”

  I stilled, “Are you sick?”

  “No, hun. I choked on my drink.” She grunted, “What do you need so early in the day?”

  “Come on down to the Fists. You know the address?”

  She chuckles, “Ever since I started making house calls for the big guy himself.”

  “It’s for Ashley.” I deadpanned.

  A brief pause allowed the thought to sink in.

  “Shit.” She finally breathes, and I glance back to Ash’s form behind me.

  “It’s pretty bad, Carter.”

  She was shuffling on the other end of the phone. A thick heave filled my ear, and I could tell she was lifting her hefty bag, getting ready to leave.

  “You wouldn’t be calling me if it wasn’t.” The starched woman retorted. “What exactly happened so that I know what I’m walking into?”

  I knelt back down to the floor and felt my way around Ashley’s stomach again. The bruising felt tender, raw, and warm. “Possible miscarriage. Listen, I need you here as soon as possible. How long you got now?”

  The engine roared into the receiver and relief filled my head.

  “Soon.” She finally replied before hanging up.

  I shoved the phone back into my back pocket and resumed looking over the bruising. As I inspected, I noticed how her shoulder was swelled in red. My brows furrowed at the length of her arm and I let my hands handle the opposition of her elbow to her shoulder. With a thumb circling the indent underneath her armpit, I could feel the heat and pressure of her shoulder press back into my thumb, the skin practically inflamed.

  She must have dislocated it by moving against some pressure. I rolled it, slowly aligning it in place but the pain was enough to make her body tense up all at once. Ashley’s face twisted up with a whimper escaping her lips, and I stopped at that moment to let her breathe. It hurt me to just watch her writhe like that in pain, but the shoulder had been dislocated enough to the point that just a touch would hurt it. The swelling was severe, and the soreness would triple that effect given the lengths it took for her to get here.

  Jesus, just how did she manage driving herself up here?

  It didn’t matter. I had to try my best to relocate her arm back to her shoulder socket. Otherwise, the swelling wasn’t going my last problem. I could say I had enough experience in the medic field to perform the gritty task without lifting a finger, but this was different.

  Ashley had been moving enough to make the wound highly sensitive, so it wouldn’t do to go about the maneuver recklessly.

  I left the living room to head over to the kitchen with my fingers flexing against my sides in contemplation. With my thumb, I was cracking every bubble in my knuckles until I was met with the fridge. I opened the freezer box, and to my relief, there was a bag of frozen raspberries sitting beside the ice tray. It’d do for now. I snatched the iced bag, closed the freezer, and went striding through the house back to Ashley.

  She was laying right where I left her, her face tense with distress. When I laid the bag of ice across her shoulder, she hissed in her deep sleep.

  “Shh..” I whisper to her, bringing my hand up to stroke her warm cheek, “It’ll be over with soon, baby.”

  After fifteen minutes of cooling, Carter still hadn’t shown up, and I was left to my own devices. My right hand was placed up the cusp of her shoulder while my left was situated to her the length of her arm. I started swiveling the rotation of her arm till the lateral deltoid was no longer apparent before my eyes. Ashley’s face grimaced under the sunlight as I steadied my arms to the cordial position.

  If I fucked up now, she’d need half a bottle of pain killers just so that she wouldn’t regret waking up. With a deep breath, I pushed the arm into its place until it finally slid along the fixed position of her shoulder. The impact was enough to send a sharp yelp to my ear, and I released her shoulder instantly. I stood up from the floor, holding myself up with the backboard of the sofa to examine the arm from above. As it was, I couldn’t have inspected her further with my hands even if I wanted to.

  Ashley’s expression was far removed from peace.

  Even if I wasn’t handling her shoulder, she seemed lost in the darkness of her dreams to register what was going on around her. Hurt, pain, fear. Those were the feelings that sank into her pretty face. Her eyes were flinching behind closed eyelids and her lips––god, she was breathing through her teeth trying to get away from whatever it was chasing her.

  I’d seen it before from patients back at the station. That same fear of running away from your memories and the things you can never un-see again. Just watching her fight those demons made my heart go weak.

  Without a second thought, I reached out to her face with my steady hand. I wanted to assure her that she needn’t be afraid. There was nothing coming to get her. And that when she woke up, she’d be safe with her family, her friends –with me. I was determined to coax her mind to peace––until I was stunned in motion by the sound of the doorbell.

  I pulled my hand back to my side and looked over my shoulder, my breath still hitched to the back of my throat. That must’ve been Carter. God, it took her long enough to come all the way down here.

  I didn’t let the time pass too long for me to get to the front door. When I opened it, sure enough, there was Doctor Carter smirking back at me.

  “Good to see you, Rob-dear.”

  “Likewise,” I mutter.

  She was a stubby looking platinum blonde with thirty years of experience in her experience with obstetrics. I’m pretty sure the entire neighborhood has called her at least once to handle their litters since she’s only a heartbeat away. I moved aside, and she stepped in, her duffle bag weighing her down to the floor. I offered to take it from her hands, and she gladly let me. As she pushed her thick red glasses up the bridge of her nose, the Doctor examined the house around her.

  “It’s been too long since I’ve been here.” The woman tutted as I guided her to the living room,

  “Not since Ashley was born. It feels colder since her mother left us.”

  I interrupted her, pulling her from her trip down memory lane back into reality “She’s over here, Doc.”

  “Ah, there’s my girl.” The woman passed me and started over to her slump body.

  I followed her with the duffle bag across my shoulder while she took the time to inspect her wounds. The weight of it slid off my shoulder as I carefully placed the massive thing on the coffee table. Doctor Carter shook her head, and I felt my stomach go sick with her silent reflection.

  “Norma,” I say.

  “Find me some scissors, Blackjack.” She finally spoke, and I stilled. “We can’t move her legs too much the way she is now.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Ashley

  I don’t remember waking up; I don’t even remember being moved into my old bedroom. I just felt the pain, the swirling pain that didn’t stop. It was like a record on repeat, my own personal hell.

  “No,” I whispered slowly, my voice feeling ever so real.

  The little white bed frame stilts were beside my legs, and I could see the little angel perched on the mirror of my vanity desk. As I
slowly sat up, I felt the rustle of sheets sink away from my shoulders. A cramp came down on my abdomen, but it was nowhere near as sharp what I had felt before. The nausea was still sitting in my stomach though.

  I took a deep breath to catch a hold of my lungs and stop my heart from trembling in my ribcage. As soon as I exhaled, I coughed at the chilly wind tickling the inside of my neck.

  My throat felt so raw.

  Had I been crying in my sleep all this time?

  The thought made me feel so tired as I blinked the tears from my moist eyes. With a steady hand, I rubbed away the salty drops that stung to my cheeks. My eye didn’t feel as bruised anymore. If anything, the swelling went down a couple notches, and my skin was naturally smooth again. I looked up at the vanity mirror before me and saw myself for the first time in what felt like forever. My face was just as it should have been.

  I pulled my thick hair back to take a better look. The bruising had paled into a soft lavender shadow across my brow so that it was barely noticeable.

  My hands were just about to pull the covers off from my body when suddenly, I found myself stopping. The sheets were clenched in my hands, but I couldn’t bear to pull them away. I hear the sound of the doorknob starting to turn, and I nearly jump from the shock.

  I watched the door as it slowly pushes away from the frame to reveal a man I hardly expected to find in my bedroom.

  Blackjack, otherwise known as Rob.

  “Rob,” I mutter softly.

  His dark eyes looked at me for the first time in years, surprised to see me awake.

  “Ashley.”

  I took a deep breath as he stepped into the room. There was that warm, sweet drop of surprise overwhelming that sick feeling in my head. Robert “Blackjack” Walters and I were friends from the past—but after all this time, we’re more likely acquaintances.

  The thing was, I didn’t know why Blackjack had that effect on me. Of course, he was one of the most genuine of men in Montana aside from my family of men; he was also one of the most down to Earth bachelors that made every single (and married) woman cry the day he left for the military.

  Every woman except for me. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. He avoided me. Or maybe I avoided him. Our history is complicated, but right now it comes rushing back like it was just yesterday. I never could understand why I had these feelings for a man who was fourteen years my senior. A man that I shouldn’t have wanted. A man that shouldn’t have wanted me.

  “How are you feeling?” He asks as he sat beside me on the bed, snapping me out of my trip down memory lane. Based on the white container he was carrying, I could assume he wasn’t just stopping in to say hello.

  “Better than yesterday.”

  His expression changed in that instant.

  “It’s been four days since you came home, Monroe.”

  My eyes widened, “You’re kidding me.”

  Blackjack shook his head with soberness. I touched my palm up to my forehead, struggling to believe this was real.

  I’d been clocked out for four days, and the world was still spinning around me. My father. Jesus, he must have thought for the worst when I passed out in front of him. Thank God that Cracker was with him this entire time. And Blackjack—I wouldn’t even be awake by now if it weren’t for him.

  Suddenly, he puts his warm hand on mine, and I stilled in that frame. It was so warm.

  “You mind if I strip away the old bandages for you?” He asks me with a soft look.

  I shake my head. “Not at all.”

  With a hand at the blanket, I pry away the sheets and a slow exhale of relief escapes my lungs. No blood. Just clean, fresh sheets below my mummified legs. They were bandaged up pretty good given that the bruises bad enough to stop me from walking.

  Blackjack had opened the container and prepped the gauze rolls and ointment bottle beside my feet. I watched him as he stood up to peel away the remaining bandages as carefully as he could. Whenever I so much as flinched, he automatically stopped his peeling and resumed once my leg settled down. The process was half as bad as waxing but knowing that he was gentle made me feel safe. Honestly, I haven’t felt that way in a while.

  Despite that, Harry was still out there probably hunting me like a dog. If they realized that I’m out of reach by now, he just as well landed himself in a shit bath with Grizzly himself. Somehow, that made me feel better.

  “So, what happened?” He finally asks me while squeezing the ointment into his palm.

  I looked up from my lap to catch his eyes. He looked hard at me right then, as serious as ever. I didn’t expect him to ask so suddenly, but I knew that my father sent him in for a reason other than to change my bandages.

  He wanted the truth.

  “It was late,” I finally find my voice, “Harry came home drunk that night.”

  Blackjack nods slowly, eyes focused on the bruises as his hands rub the ointment over my calves. I bit the inside of my cheek when I felt the sting sink into the sensitive bruises. That didn’t stop me from talking, however. I skipped forward to the threat.

  “I went upstairs after he beat me and I heard his friends come into the house. Only it wasn’t just a couple of guys from the bar.”

  My voice grew hard, “It was the Bears’ Prez.”

  Blackjack looks up at me with confusion in his eyes.

  “Grizzly, himself?”

  “The big lug,” I confirmed.

  With a steady breath, I kept going.

  “I don’t know why it’s come this far, but Grizzly himself wanted to save me for an opportunity.”

  “What opportunity?”

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head, “It’s a plot to take down the Reapers.”

  “Leverage.” He states firmly. “But why?”

  “That’s the question.” I bit my bottom lip in thought, “I couldn’t dig any deeper once they were passed out drunk in my living room. I just knew I had to get out before they could use me to their advantage.”

  “You did what you needed to do.” He assured me and took my hand again, giving it a soft squeeze. “But how did you come back looking like this? Did they hit you?”

  I blinked, unsure of what to say. This was unraveling quickly, and I didn’t know if I was ready to accept what just happened in that kitchen. The table, my phone, his pipe.

  Harry—my husband of all people.

  “He beat me when he found out I was pregnant,” I say it coldly like it has no effect on me. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I want to break down crying, scream from the unfairness of it all, but it wouldn’t do me any good.

  Blackjack’s hand stopped squeezing at that moment. As I looked up, I could see that the line of his mouth was thinning. He wasn’t even looking at me, but I could see it plain and clear. The words that can’t describe what to say.

  Usually, people would automatically apologize—but what for? This wasn’t his fault. None of this had anything to do with him. And yet I knew he wanted so very much to speak out before me. It was in that anger; it didn’t scare me.

  And it didn’t matter.

  I needed to hear it come out of his mouth. Plain and clear.

  “Rob, please,” I say softly, overlapping his hand with mine.

  He doesn’t look up at me, but he knows what I’m asking for.

  “Did I lose the baby?”

  The anger had left his face and ran away with my hope. He was silent as I searched his expression for answers. There were only three words he could admit to.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  A cold dread filled my heart as I sat before him. I closed my eyes slowly, broken to the point that it could overwhelm me at last. He leaned forward and took me into his arms. I couldn’t catch myself in time to stop crying. I rid myself of his hand and clutched to his shirt for dear life as I felt every part of me dissolve into those tears.

  My forehead was buried in his chest as I felt the sobs drown my thoughts. He held me close to his body, arms pulling my broken pieces
together. The palm of his hand strokes my back while his lips hovered above my ears, whispering in those thick “ssshh”s.

  “You’re going to be okay.” Rob’s voice coaxes, “Fucking hell, you’re a survivor, Ash..”

  I couldn’t respond without another wave of cries, so I shut myself up.

  His hands made my back feel so warm—so safe. A soft kiss presses up against my throat, and I closed my eyes at that moment.

  “God. Why did I let you leave?” He mutters with a soft kiss pressed to my throat, “I’ll never let anyone fucking hurt you again.”

  A part of me wanted to believe him. The other part wanted me to go back to sleep. This entire conversation drained the energy out of my body. I could only release his shirt into its crumpled form before wrapping my arms around his body to pull me closer to his warmth. The embrace calmed me down enough to the point that my heart could finally settle down.

  I sat there in the quiet with his hand slowly stroking my back. A soft shudder left my breath as I slowly sank back into myself. His hands guided me back to bed as I slid under the covers once again. I could close my eyes at that moment, and he would address the covers back up my legs until they reached my shoulders, shielding me from the cold. His fingers smoothed my hair away from my face and just as he would take his hand back—I reached up to take his palm.

  “Please don’t leave.”

  I didn’t know if he heard me or not, but I could feel his hand slip away from mine at that moment. My fingers clutched to the pillow instead, eyes refusing to open and find him walking away. Instead, I heard a chair scraping the floor with him sitting beside me. His hand came down to mine, and with his thumb, he stroked circles along my wrist until nothing could hurt me in my sleep.

  CHAPTER 5

  Ashley

  Two full weeks had passed by in the blink of an eye. I didn’t understand how the time had passed this quickly, or where it had gone. It was nice to just sit back in bed and relax. For the first time in a very long time I had the pleasantry of relaxing. Deciding what I wanted to do every day. I was no longer told what to do, scared into doing what Harry willed me to do – for once, it was my choice.