by Darcy Rose
“Knox?” One of the brothers snaps his fingers when he hasn’t said anything yet. Knox. Interesting name.
Knox scowls at him. “Gin and tonic,” he tells me. I scribble that down before taking the other drink orders, then hustle over to the bar. I can feel Knox’s eyes on me the whole way. That would usually annoy me, but I’m used to it. There are certain things you learn to live with when you’re a waitress.
With him, though, it’s not even a matter of gritting my teeth and bearing it. It’s like a swarm of bees buzzing around in my stomach. I don’t mind at all.
For supposedly dangerous, scary guys, they’re nice to me while I take care of them, but then I’ve always heard they were respectful. Not like some people who act like going out to dinner means they have to be treated like royalty. Not to mention the messes some of them leave behind, messes which I have the displeasure of cleaning up. It makes me wonder if that’s how they act at home.
None of them has to look at the menu when it comes time to order their meals. Lasagna is our signature dish, and they are here all the time. I guess it makes sense. “Three lasagnas, and a triple order of garlic bread,” I repeat once they’re finished.
“And a platter of sausage and peppers,” Knox adds as I’m about to turn away.
One of his brothers laughs. They're twins, I realize. I didn’t take a good look at them when they first sat down, mostly because I was too busy wondering about Knox. Kane and Cash, if I remember correctly. “You worked up an appetite tonight.” His twin laughs along with him, and I can’t help but wonder what he means by that.
Knox doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t crack a smile. “I thought we could share it,” he says dryly.
Note to self—don’t try to joke with him. He must’ve been born without a sense of humor.
“One sausage and peppers, too.” I make sure to give him my widest smile because he’s the one I’m most interested in. I don’t know why I’m as drawn to him as I am. I don’t know why he stuck out at me the way he did the second I laid eyes on him.
I only know he’s the sort of guy who other men are afraid of…
An idea forms in my head like a spark in a dark night. Other men are afraid of people like the Hales. Men like Dale. I try to shove the idea out of my mind. That’s ridiculous. I can’t just ask a man I don’t know to help me. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.
Knox is someone who can help me. Somebody has to. I can’t spend the rest of my life this way. One day, Dale will go too far. One day, he’ll hit me just a little too hard or throw me down the stairs before I can prepare myself for the fall. Every time he hurts me, it’s one time closer to that last day. I’m living on borrowed time.
He’s a monster. The only thing that can stop him is another monster. One who’s bigger than he is.
I think I might’ve found the perfect candidate—now, all I have to do is get up the courage to ask if he’ll help me. I mean, how am I supposed to ask for help? You can’t just walk up to somebody and ask them to get rid of somebody for you.
Now that I’ve thought about it, I can’t get it out of my head. I have to get rid of Dale before he gets rid of me.
Knox stares at me when I drop off the garlic bread, when I refill their drinks, and when I bring out their entrees, complete with a steamy platter of sausage that smells good enough to make my mouth water. I wonder if they’ll be able to finish all of it, combined with the slabs of lasagna the line cooks plated for them. We don’t usually serve such huge pieces, but then not everybody is a Hale. Their drinks are a little fuller than the ones I usually serve, too.
Would it be wrong to see if I can sneak any leftovers for myself? I’m starving, even after eating the employee dinner the cooks left out for us.
It’s Dale’s fault you’re starving. My hand shakes a little when I place Knox’s plate in front of him. My eyes cut his way, and I notice him giving me a look. I wish I knew what it meant.
This might be my only chance. What if I don’t get their table again? What if I’m not here the next time he comes in? I have a couple of other tables to serve, but my thoughts won’t stop bouncing back and forth. Should I, or shouldn’t I? What can I even say to him?
They spend a little more than an hour eating and downing two more drinks each. Finally, one of the twins signals for the check, and I know it’s now or never. I have to find a way to pull Knox aside. Maybe I could slide him a note or something.
“Miss? Miss!” A woman at one of my other tables waves her arms over her head, looking like she found a pube-covered roach in her food. Her expression is that horrified. I can only drop off the check with the Hales before hurrying over to see what’s worth freaking out over.
Of course, by the time the problem’s solved—she wanted ketchup to go with her chicken parmesan, which I can’t even begin to understand—Knox is halfway out the door, trailing his brothers. My heart sinks. Now that he’s almost gone, there’s no doubt in my mind that I need his help. It’s busy up front by the hostess stand, so I manage to sneak out without anybody noticing.
“Excuse me?” I burst out of the restaurant, hot on his heels. “Knox? Can I talk to you for a second?” He’s already halfway to a car parked near the corner with his brothers way in front of him. His head is moving back and forth like he’s looking out for danger.
He spins around once he hears me, tense and snarling. “What the fuck are you doing following us?” He faces me with his arms folded, and all of a sudden, I don’t think this was such a good idea. Sitting down, he was manageable. I was taller than him. I was in control of the situation.
Now? I’m a bug he could squash. And he looks like he wouldn’t mind doing that, towering over me the way he does, looking at me like he’s disgusted.
“Well?” he barks, and I jump. I hate myself for jumping, for showing how intimidated I am. “What, pissed you didn’t get a bigger tip?”
“What? No. It wasn’t that at all. I didn’t even clear the check off your table yet.” I fall back a step because this was the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. He was nice to me when he wanted to be sure I wouldn’t spit in his food, but this is now. “Forget it.”
“Wait.” His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. There’s an ugly bruise there, thanks to Dale, but it’s covered by my sleeve. That doesn’t mean I can’t feel it, though. I wince, sucking in air through my teeth before I can stop myself. It’s one of those uncontrollable reactions.
“Let me go,” I whisper, but he doesn’t. Instead, he yanks up my sleeve without even asking. He stares at the purple bruise, shaped like a hand, with finger marks and everything. I’m so ashamed. I want to crawl into a hole and die.
The one thing I’ve always made sure of was not letting anybody see the bruises. I know it’s not my fault—what he does to me—but I’m still ashamed.
I can only stare at the ground. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to know what he must think, like I’m weak or something. Like I can’t stand up for myself.
Knox’s voice sounds funny when he finally speaks. Tight. Like something’s squeezing his throat all of a sudden. “Who did this to you?”
And even now, I want to lie. It almost falls off my lips before I even think about it. I’m so used to trying to hide things and cover them up—not for Dale, but for me. It’s enough to make me laugh softly at myself.
Knox growls. “Tell me.” His hand tightens, and I wince again, harder this time.
“You’re hurting me.”
His eyes widen a little just before he lets go. “Why did you follow us out?” Somebody calls for him from the car, but he ignores them. He’s practically staring a hole through me. I wonder if he can even hear them.
I pull my sleeve down until it covers my hand, then tuck my arms close to my body. “I need help. Protection.”
“Protection?”
I nod, looking at the ground again. Now I wonder if this was a good idea or not. It seemed like it a few minutes ago, but something’s different now. He’s different. But I starte
d this, so I might as well finish it. “Yeah. I don’t have any money, but I could pay you back. I promise. It’ll take a little time, but I swear, I’m good for it.”
He’s quiet for so long, I’d think he walked away if it wasn’t for the toes of his shoes staying in place. Now that I’ve said it out loud, I know it’s a stupid idea. I’m sure he thinks it is. “I don’t know how these things are usually done,” I mumble. “But I figured since you were here, I had to ask.”
“So, you think this is what my family does?”
“I thought so.” I glance around, hoping somebody will come to my rescue.
“That we take money to hurt people.”
“I didn’t ask for that. I asked if you would protect me.” I wish I had never set eyes on him or any of his brothers. I wish I hadn’t come to work. He sounds angry, suspicious, bitter.
“Who could somebody like you need protection from?” I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Somebody like me? People like me need protection all the time.
“Will you do it or not?” I have to force myself to pick my head up so he won’t see how humiliating this is. He has no idea how hard it is for me to ask for help.
He frowns, and once again, his eyes crawl over me. Finally, in a flat voice, he makes his decision. “I’ll think about it.” Then he’s gone, turning and walking to the car. I guess he’ll find me if he decides to help.
I wish I knew whether I had just made a huge mistake.
4
Knox
After telling her I’d think about it, I went and dropped Cash and Kane off, then came back. I’ve been watching her serve food, bus tables, and sweep the floor all night. When she finally exits, I slump in my seat, hoping she won’t see me when she walks by.
Within minutes, the bus pulls up, and she hops on. I follow it through downtown, watching every person who exits at every stop until it comes up to its final stop by a nice, well-kept residential neighborhood. For someone begging for protection, I never expected her to live in such a nice place.
I creep behind her slowly, making sure my lights are off, and I don’t hit the gas too hard and make the engine roar. I don’t want her to see me. Not yet, anyway. After walking a couple of blocks, she turns off the sidewalk and starts up the steps of a basic two-story home.
As soon as she makes it to the door, her body language changes. It’s so drastic that even I can see it from across the street. Her head dips low, her shoulders slump, and she moves slower. There is no pep in her step like before at the restaurant, and it makes me wonder just what’s waiting behind her doors and who gave her the wicked bruise on her arm.
Maybe a boyfriend? Because a girl like her is bound to have a boyfriend. I mean, why wouldn’t she? She’s beautiful and seems like the type of woman normal men would like.
I try to keep my eyes on her as she steps inside and closes the door behind her, but dark curtains shield the windows and give me no sight inside. Normally, at this point, I would say fuck it and leave, but something inside me won’t let me put my car into drive and go.
I pull my phone from my pocket, keeping my eyes glued to her place even though I can’t see, and dial Ace’s number. He’s my eldest brother and now head of the family. If anyone can dig up dirt on someone, it’s him. And something about this girl isn’t sitting right with me.
I’m not sure if it’s how she had zero care in the world when walking up to us or the way her eyes shone with curiosity. It’s dumb to think she doesn’t know us because everyone knows who we are, but that—along with the bruises on her pale skin—makes me think maybe she’s dealing with an even bigger monster than me. Usually, I wouldn’t bother even entertaining the idea of helping someone like her, but if she had the balls to ask someone like me—someone who isn’t the slightest bit approachable—then it must be bad. Maybe I’m feeling a bit soft because I’m actually considering giving her what she asked for.
The phone rings three times before Ace’s voice booms through the receiver. “Knox.” It’s the only greeting I get.
“I need something.”
I hear muffled sounds as though he’s moving around before he speaks again. “What is it?”
“There is this girl. All I have is her name, address, and work address. Something isn’t right, and I want to check her out before I agree to something.” I try to make the last statement nonchalantly, but I know better. Ace isn’t the head of the family now because he lets shit slide.
“Agree to what?” He sounds almost angry, like why would I do something without keeping him in the loop.
“Protection. She needs protection.”
He chuckles. “Protection or a hit man? You’re only good at one thing and one thing only, and we all know it isn’t knitting.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Are you going to help me or not?”
There is a beat of silence from him. “Fine. What's her name?”
“Aria.” Her name rolls off my tongue with ease.
“Address?”
“Four thirty-two Terrace Way.”
“Terrace Way?” I can hear the confusion in his voice.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Huh. Just odd that someone living in one of the nicer parts of town would need protection. You think we’ll need a racket?”
My blood starts to simmer in my veins. I’ll be damned if my brothers weasel their way into this. “There is no we. I will handle this if everything checks out.”
“Easy, killer. I’d start to think maybe you like this girl.” He laughs.
I know it must seem fucking hilarious to him because I only keep women around long enough to fuck them and nothing else. Feelings are a foreign concept to me. Something I’ve never worried about developing.
I ignore his statement. “Just let me know what you find.”
“Give me till morning.”
I hang up without another word.
I didn’t sleep at all last night, which isn’t unusual. Sleep has never been my friend. It’s more like a fleeting thought than anything else. When it comes, it’s never for long, but there are many nights it doesn’t come at all.
Since I had nothing better to do, I stayed outside Aria’s house watching, waiting to see if the curtains would ever open again or she would leave, but I saw neither. Not until around seven the following morning. A short man with thinning hair and a fat beer belly finally moves the dark fabric blocking the windows, giving me a perfect view inside.
I thought I would see Aria moving around, getting ready for her day, or maybe eating breakfast at the table positioned in front of the windows, but I don’t. She never came into sight, which makes me wonder where she could be. I know for a fact she never left because I watched her house all night.
My thoughts are quickly answered when she appears for a split second before pulling the door open and exiting the house. She looks different today. She has a black duffel bag gripped in her hand, her hair in a high bun on top of her head, skintight leggings wrap around her toned legs, and a T-shirt that's cut to fall off one shoulder, showing her bright pink sports bra. Normally, I don’t focus on anyone long enough to even tell you the color of their eyes, but with her, I never want to stop looking. I could stare at her body all day.
With her in view, I start my car and creep behind her the same way I did last night as she walks. She follows the same path, staying on the sidewalk until she makes it to the bus stop two blocks away. When she steps on, I pick up my speed behind and follow her in the opposite direction of Rigatoni’s.
After a few minutes, the bus makes its second stop, and she appears again. I pull onto the side of the road and kill my engine as she crosses the street and enters a gym.
Glass takes up the entire front of the building, giving me the perfect view of her as she walks inside. When she strides inside a room off the front, tiny humans swarm her, hugging her thighs with smiles on their faces. I’ve never much liked kids, but even I can admit it’s kind of cute to see them so happy whe
n she walks into the room.
I watch her lips moving as she claps her hands together and starts pointing at different spots on the floor in the open room. The kids scurry, each one taking a different place, then look at her for direction. When she stretches and moves her body, they do the same.
I’m so engrossed in watching her touch her toes I don’t even notice my phone vibrating on the dash. The dim light coming from the screen is what grabs my attention.
I pick up the device, hit answer, then bring it to my ear. “Ace.” I greet my brother the same way he greets me.
“I looked into the girl, and she’s clean. The only thing I was able to dig up was some old news articles from when she was in high school. She was supposed to get some badass scholarship but landed wrong after a flip and tore her ACL along with some other shit, ending her being a gymnast. But she has no criminal background. She’s squeaky fucking clean and works two jobs. She’s a normal broad.”
They say those who can’t do teach, and suddenly, it all makes sense why she’s teaching these kids. “Great. Thanks.” I end the call.
For a minute, I thought Aria was only asking for help for some underlying reason. Like maybe she was close with one of my family's many enemies, but seeing as she has no criminal history, I doubt it.
As the class she teaches ends and the kids all disappear, I wait for Aria to come outside before I step out of my car. I sprint across the street and come up behind her, push her into an alley, and clamp one hand over her mouth and the other over her arm. I can hear the scream bubbling in her throat, but when I turn her around, keeping her arm clasped in my hand, and her eyes lock to mine, it dies. It’s almost as if she knows I won’t hurt her.
I drop my hold on her mouth. “Tell me why you need help.” I don’t bother with formalities. She knows who the fuck I am and what I’m talking about.
She shakes her head and points her eyes anywhere but on me. “It-it was stupid to ask. I changed my mind.” Her voice is shaky, not at all like last night. “I don’t need protection anymore.” The lie doesn't roll off her tongue with ease. She must be one of those people who rather stick to the truth, something I highly value in a person. I hate fucking liars, but I don’t hate her right now because I know she’s scared, and that’s the only reason she’s keeping something from me.
