by Banks, R. R.
For better or worse, I need to make this decision for myself and live with whatever consequences it brings.
“I booked an interview with Mystery Monthly for you the day after tomorrow,” she announces crisply. “They’ll want to talk about your follow up to Obsidian.”
“Great,” I reply.
Maura purses her lips, clearly upset and pouting. I know she’s protective of me, and I’m grateful for it. But she needs to understand – as Knox is helping me understand – that I’m a big girl. There are times I need to stand on my own two feet.
She sighs and leans forward. The expression on Maura’s face tells me she’s got something to say, and chances are, it’s something I’m not going to like. I just hope she’s not going to bring Knox up again. I’ve had about enough of that conversation.
“I think it’s time we drop the goon squad back there,” she whispers, nodding at the table where Knox’s guys are sitting. “This Elliott character hasn’t done anything other than be a nuisance, really.”
My mouth falls open and I gape at her, stunned by what she’s saying. I can’t believe she’d even suggest it. I know I haven’t told her everything, but the man’s behavior is escalating and it’s scaring me. I don’t know why I never told Maura about the flowers outside of my door or the present waiting for me inside of my car – I guess I just didn’t want to scare her.
But I mean, the doll’s head. If that doesn’t send a cold chill down somebody’s spine and point to an escalating threat, I don’t know what will. But now I feel trapped, like I can’t share that bit of information with her. I have no idea why. It’s something I still haven’t told Knox. I should. I know I should. I’m honestly just too freaked out and am not thinking about the situation very clearly. Either that, or I’m a complete moron. It’s probably a bit of both.
“W – why do you think we should do that?” I stammer. “I mean, he broke into my home, Maura. That’s an escalation in –”
“Because I think it’s drawing the wrong kind of attention to you,” she snaps. “I think people are looking at you like a victim, rather than letting your work stand on its merits.”
The explanation makes zero sense to me. “Maura, I honestly don’t care what people are looking at me like right now,” I retort. “This has nothing to do with my image, but my personal safety. You said it yourself that just because I’m independent doesn’t mean I have to put myself in danger. The fact of the matter is that he’s gone from being a creepy guy who shows up at my events to a creepy guy who breaks into my condo and takes pictures of me when I’m out in public.”
Not to mention the fact that he’s a scary guy who breaks into my car and leaves the decapitated heads of dolls.
“Has that man convinced you that you’re in danger? Because I spoke to the detective who’s investigating the break-in at your condo, and he says that only a very small percentage of these cases ever turn violent,” she seethes. “He seems pretty convinced that this Elliott character is a socially awkward person who will eventually lose interest and just disappear.”
Stalking isn’t something I’ve done a ton of research on, but that doesn’t sound right to me. Stalkers don’t just lose interest. And sure, some of the time they can be classified as nuisances who are discouraged away after being confronted. But sometimes, the obsession of these people is so deep that they feel like they have to possess the person they’re stalking.
Some of these people don’t stop until they hurt the person they’re stalking. Or kill them.
Granted, it’s a small percentage, but it’s high enough that it worries me. I mean, going from following me around, to leaving flowers outside my door, to breaking into my car, to breaking into my home – it’s a clear pattern of escalation. And the doll’s head can’t be interpreted as anything other than a threat. I still have no idea how he found my address in the first place. The thought makes me shudder.
And yet despite all of that, Maura wants to drop my protection and expose me to this guy. It makes no sense to me. Actually, it worries me. For the very first time in our relationship, I’m starting to question her decision-making ability. For the first time ever, I am questioning whether or not she really has my best interest at heart.
“This is about Knox, isn’t it?” I gasp as the realization hits me like a sledgehammer. “You hate him so much and are so desperate to get him out of my life, that you’d expose me to potential danger.”
“Don’t be absurd, Felicity,” she huffs. “Though, it is nice that you are finally admitting that he’s a part of your life – against my better judgment.”
I look at her evenly. “Is it really that absurd, Maura? I know you’re threatened by him,” I tell her. “But we’re talking about my safety here. This Elliott guy is a freak. And he’s escalating.”
I know she’s trying to bait me into that conversation again, and I refuse to go down that road with her. It feels like she’s pissed that for the first time, I’m not obeying her every wish and command. That I’m not going to walk away from something that could be amazing just because she doesn’t like him and wants me to share in her dislike.
Of course, I recognize the fact that I’m jeopardizing a wonderful relationship with Maura for something that could blow up in my face in spectacular fashion tomorrow. But then, if she were really my friend, and if she really cared about me like she says she does, would she really be forcing me to choose between the two things? If she loved me like a daughter, like she’s said she does, would she be making me choose between her and Knox?
And the most pressing question of all, if she truly cared about me, would she be putting my safety in jeopardy simply because she doesn’t like a man I’m interested in?
“It’s not Elliott you need to worry about hurting you, Felicity,” she states coldly. “It’s that man. He’s going to hurt you in ways you never thought you could be hurt before. Mark my words.”
Knox
“Oh my God, stop the presses,” Haley all but shrieks. “Knox Vaughn is finally a man off the market. I think we may need to get a reporter in here to mark this day for posterity.”
“Okay, first of all, there’s nothing to mark down for posterity or otherwise,” I chuckle. “And secondly, stop trying to deflect from you pulling that trade with Maynard and Marvez without my permission.”
Haley waves me off, a wide smile on her face. “Please, it’s not like we were going to get anything better for them. ‘Damaged goods’ is what one of the other GMs called them, I believe,” she chirps. “And we both know that you would have given me permission, because my football intellect is so much better than yours.”
I roll my eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, but I’m smiling. “Yeah, I call bullshit. I’m pretty sure I would have gotten at least a third-round pick for the pair of them.”
“Yeah, that’s the actual bullshit here. Nobody was going to give up a third for those walking piles of garbage,” she fires back. “Besides, the important part of this deal is that we now have two open roster spots.”
“And I’m sure you have just the guys to fill them.”
She takes a drink of her iced tea and nods. “As a matter of fact, I do. And I can say definitively that they’ll be better than Maynard and Marvez put together,” she grins. “I dare say they’ll make the Reign a better team from day one.”
“Okay, so who are these miracle workers?”
She waves me off again. “We can talk about it when you’ve given me an office,” she says. “Let’s get to the important stuff – you and this super-sexy writer woman who has captured your heart.”
I laugh and take a drink of my own iced tea. We’re sitting on the patio of one of my favorite cafes in Seattle, having lunch. It’s overcast, but the air still has a hint of warmth to it – though not nearly as warm as it was back at the lake. But it’s definitely not the sunshine filled-days Felicity and I’d just had at the cabin. It’s almost like Mother Nature was giving us her blessing to get together in the form of perfect we
ather. And now that we’re back in the city, the Seattle weather has returned to normal.
I’d originally intended to slap Haley on the wrist for overstepping by making the trade without my explicit go-ahead, but the more I think about it, the more I realize she’s right – her football intellect really is a lot better than mine. And it fucking galls me to admit that.
“I think you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself here,” I caution her. “Nobody said anything about her capturing my heart or taking me off the market.”
“And I notice you haven’t said either of those things is untrue.”
“Shut up,” I laugh.
Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open into a perfect O. “I was right. I mean, I usually am, but this is serious,” she gasps. “You are really into her.”
“Is it really that surprising that I might be interested in somebody?”
She shakes her head. “No, but this goes well beyond simply being interested in somebody.”
“And what makes you say that?”
Haley arches an eyebrow at me. “Really? I know you better than anybody else on this planet, and you’re going to ask me that?”
I shrug and pop a fry into my mouth. “I’m neither confirming nor denying anything at this point.”
“You don’t have to,” she responds. “Your face and that glow about you tells me all I need to know.”
I laugh. “I have a glow about me?”
“Big time. Which means that you got laid,” she explains. “And judging by how relaxed you are and that smile on your face, you got laid very well.”
I laugh hard, making some of the other patrons glance our way, disapproving expressions on their faces. Christ, some people are uptight.
“I really hope you have a more convincing argument than that,” I mock her.
“I do. The fact that you didn’t tear me a new one for making the trade without running it by you first,” she declares. “You should be reading me the riot act right now.”
I shrug. “Maybe I’m bowing to your obviously superior football intellect.”
It’s her turn to laugh heartily, which earns her some disapproving looks of her own. Not that Haley either notices or cares. She’s about as unaffected by the opinions of others as anybody I’ve ever met. She honestly doesn’t give a damn. I think it’s a pretty admirable quality, personally speaking.
“The day you admit to being second-best at anything is the day the sun doesn’t rise,” she notes. “It would be a first.”
“Shut up,” I laugh.
She takes a bite of her salad and chews thoughtfully as she looks at me. I know she’s dissecting me in her head. Hard-earned experience is telling me she’s putting together a line of questioning designed to extract every last bit of information out of me. The woman is an amazing interrogator. Seriously. She should be working for the CIA. And all I can do is sit here, try to weather the storm, and not give up any information I don’t mean to.
I think she is the only person on this planet who can get information out of me I don’t want to give up. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so frustrated by it.
“Seriously Knox,” she begins. “I can tell this woman means something to you. Which means she must be something pretty special.”
I flash her a sly grin. “This is where you appear all compassionate, tricking me into giving something up, and you use it to bash me mercilessly,” I reply. “Played this game too many times with you before. I swear to God; you might be the only person I know who can simultaneously play good cop and bad cop.”
Haley laughs. “Ordinarily, that’s true. But not this time. I promise you,” she goes on. “How long have I been on you about finding somebody special? Finding somebody who lights you up inside?”
“Too long.”
“Right, so why would I smack you down when you’ve obviously found somebody who does that?” she protests. “Why would I potentially scare you away from something that could be really good for you? From somebody who obviously makes you happy. Why in the world would I be that cruel to you?”
“I don’t know – because that’s just what you do?”
She throws a fry at me and cackles with delight. “You are such an asshole.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Despite my reluctance to share too much, I can hear the sincerity in Haley’s voice and see it in her eyes. Which, of course, leads me to opening up and telling her everything.
I start from the beginning and take her through to today, only leaving out the more intimate details because I’m not such an enormous asshole that I’m going to betray Felicity’s privacy like that.
And when I’m finished, Haley is looking at me with a wide and knowing smile on her face. I have to say; she looks genuinely pleased – and not because she got me to admit to things I didn’t really want to admit to. She looks genuinely pleased that I opened up a bit and let Felicity into my world.
“Knox, this is amazing,” she beams. “I can see that she means something to you. She’s done something no other woman on this planet has been able to do – get you to open that crusty, cynical heart of yours.”
“Thanks,” I chuckle. “I think.”
“She sounds incredible, Knox. I mean, to get you to even consider the notion of a relationship makes her pretty special in my book. Perhaps even a miracle worker,” she gushes. “I want to meet her, so you better set something up. Soon.”
“Yeah, I’m not so sure –”
“You do it, or I will,” she snaps. “Clearly I’m not afraid to do things without your permission. Just ask Maynard and Marvez.”
I laugh and raise my glass of iced tea to her. “To the woman with the biggest balls on the planet.”
She taps her glass against mine. “That would be me.”
We both fall silent for a moment, but Haley keeps looking at me with sparkling eyes and a mischievous smile on her face.
“What?” I finally ask.
“Nothing,” she replies. “Just taking a minute to bask in the glow of something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime – Knox Vaughn in love.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s back that train up,” I tell her. “Nobody here said anything about being in love.”
She shrugs. “Nobody had to say a word. Not when something is that obvious.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit too soon to be dropping that word?”
“And how long should one wait before the word love is appropriate?”
I pop a couple of fries into my mouth, chewing slowly and giving myself a minute to come up with an answer to an impossible question only to draw a complete blank.
“Probably longer than a few days,” I finally say.
“That was just the solidification of feelings that started when you first started bodyguarding for her,” she informs me. “I can see it in the way your face lights up when you talk about her. I can hear it in the way you speak about her. And there is no appropriate time one way or the other. Your heart doesn’t know whether it’s been a day or a year. It simply wants what it wants. And it wants it when it wants it.”
“Thank you, love guru.”
“Anytime at all, sugar,” she chirps.
To be honest, I have no idea how I feel about Felicity. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve come to care for her. Probably more than I should, given how briefly we’ve been a part of each other’s worlds. But she’s one of the most remarkable women I’ve ever met. Fiery. Passionate. Smarter than most anybody I’ve ever met. I think she’d even give Haley a run for her intellectual money – except for football smarts. In that category I’d bet on Haley all day, every day.
When Felicity told me she takes people as she finds them, I figured it was just a nice-sounding, but ultimately empty, platitude. I’m seeing her walk the walk, though. She seems to accept me just as I am. And despite her belief that I’m a snarky, sarcastic asshole – which I certainly can be – she’s opened up to me in a genuine and authentic way. She’s showed m
e her heart and has encourage me to show her mine – which I have. Mostly.
Perhaps best of all is the fact that she hasn’t treated me any differently since she found out who I really am. The fact that I’m worth billions hasn’t altered the way she interacts with me. It hasn’t changed the look in her eye from the first day she met me when she thought I was just a simple bodyguard. That means more to me than anything else.
Do I care about Felicity? Yeah. Am I curious enough about seeing what lies between us to pursue things with her? Definitely. Am I ready to plant my flag and declare it love? Not by a country mile.
But being open to the possibility of where this could lead is a giant step for me. One that scares the shit out of me, but one I find myself embracing. Because of Felicity. Because that’s how remarkable I think she is.
“I’m serious, Knox,” Haley presses. “I want to meet her.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll set something up,” I chuckle.
“Don’t you be patronizing me,” she cautions me. “And don’t you dare try to put this off.”
When Haley sinks her teeth into something, it’s next to impossible to pry her jaws apart. She digs in and hangs on until she wears you down and gets what she wants. Her persistence, among her many other amazing qualities, is something I respect the hell out of her for. Even when she turns that tenacity on me.
“I promise I’ll set something up soon,” I try to appease her.
“You’ve got a week,” she adds.
“Come on now, be reasonable,” I say. “We’re dealing with what I think is a pretty serious situation with this prick who’s been stalking her.”
“How serious is it?” her voice carries a hint of concern.
“I think it’s a lot more serious than she wants to believe,” I reply. “I also think she’s hiding something from me.”
“Like what?”
I shrug. “No idea. I’m thinking something happened that she’s not telling me about,” I admit. “I’ve been letting her take her time and tell me on her own, but I may need to force the issue if we’re going to deal with this asshole.”
