Hard Knox

by Amber Malloy

  He texted.

  Where?

  As creepy-crawlies ran up his spine, he stepped out of the apartment. Hoping to knock off that foreboding feeling, he dug his hand in his pocket for his keys.

  He focused on a crazy image in the far corner parking slot. Confused by what he saw, Knox broke into a light jog. “Remy,” he called out. Not too far from the apartment entrance, she stumbled.

  Reaching for his car, she missed and fell to the ground. Knox sprinted toward her and skidded to a stop.

  “Who did this?” He knelt down in front of her. The dim glow from the streetlight showed her bloodied face. When he slipped his arms around her waist, Remy groaned from the touch. “What? What?”

  “Ribs.”

  He lifted up her shirt. Her whole right side was covered in bruises. “Are they broken?”

  “I don’t know,” she whimpered.

  “Hospital… Let’s get you to the hospital.”

  “No, no, no.” As desperation shone in her beautiful eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks.

  When he gathered her close, she moaned in pain. Placing her in the car, he felt helpless. “So-o-ory.”

  Keys, keys, keys. He forgot they were in his hand. Knox hurried to the driver side and got in. He couldn’t think of what to do next. Shoving the key into the ignition, he started the car and backed out of the lot at top speed. Once he changed gears, he pointed his Nissan in the direction of the expressway and took the route to the only place he could think of.

  “Call home,” Knox told his Bluetooth.

  “My boy,” His dad answered right away. “Let me guess, you need beer money.”

  “Papa, j’ai des problème.” Knox switched to French to tell his dad that he was in trouble.

  * * * *

  Everything had changed the minute he’d found Remy’s battered body. His father had allowed Knox to call the family doctor, who confirmed she had a fractured rib, a busted lip and too many bruises to count.

  Canceling his summer plans, he spent the next four weeks at his parents’ farmhouse in Ontario. Soon his senior year would begin. Knox didn’t want to leave her, but there was no way Remy could return to campus.

  In eighteen months, his father would be up for reelection in his cabinet position. The old man had his eye on being Prime Minster of Canada. Knox knew he had a hard sell on his hands.

  As they sat at the kitchen table, he fiddled with an empty bottle of water. The previous night his parents had flown to Ontario. He wanted them to get acquainted with Remy first, before he made his big pitch.

  They sat opposite him. Mama provided a warm smile. Dad, on the other hand, sat pensively peering over the top of his glasses. “She’s lovely and gorgeous.” Mom whistled low with a chuckle.

  Too nervous to do much more than puff out a heavy breath, he ripped the label off the bottle.

  “This is the first time you’ve brought someone home to meet us, oui?”

  Remy’s bruises were still apparent, but nothing could hide her beauty. “Je veux la marier,” he blurted out his intent to marry her.

  “You can’t save her,” Dad finally said, after what seemed like an eternity. “Marriage citizenship isn’t guaranteed. She would have to live here for at least five years before she could qualify.”

  Destroying the plastic bottle in the palm of his hand, he tried to think of something that would make them see his point of view, but came up empty. The whole idea seemed crazy, even to him, but he loved her.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Set on his decision, they couldn’t change his mind.

  “What about university, the pros, all your dreams?” Mom asked.

  “Nothing’s changed. I’ll graduate then play football in the US.”

  “Gavin, this is fou, oui?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Hi.” Remy stepped into the kitchen. “Am I interrupting? I can go if…” The weird energy had probably slapped her in the face at the entryway.

  “No.” He stood up, scraping his chair across the Spanish tiles. “We’re done. Let’s go for a walk?”

  As he met her at the back door, Remy gave him a tentative smile. “Are you sure?”

  “Un tel spirit libre va vous écraser,” Mom said. The translation? Remy would crush his soul.

  Knox placed his hand on her back and hurried her out of the house. He didn’t want them to switch to English. “C’est son coeur,” Dad replied that Knox could make his own decisions.

  They stepped outside and walked into the canola crops that grew in the back of the farmhouse. She wore one of his mother’s white sun dresses. Her chocolate skin glowed in the midst of the yellow flowers.

  “How do you feel?” Knox touched her cheek where the worst bruise had been. To him, she was back to perfect, and he admired her beauty.

  Turning her head, she kissed his palm and smiled. “Better.”

  “And your ribs?”

  She let him go and began her trek again.

  As he followed behind her, she ran her hand across the rapeseed. Two acres of yellow flowers that made canola oil, among other things, stretched for miles in front of them. “We’re not banging in this field if that’s what you’re asking.” Remy laughed.

  Rock hard, he rubbed his hand against the crotch of his jeans and tried not to focus on how hot she looked. “Can’t blame me for trying.” He sighed. “School starts next week.”

  “Yeah. I dropped out, so hopefully that will throw the asshole off my trail.”

  Knox ran his hand down her back. “Marry me?”

  She stopped suddenly and turned toward him. “No.”

  “What? But it will help with citizenship and you can stay here in Canada, finish school here.”

  “That’s…” Remy scrunched her face into a frown. It wasn’t the reaction he had hoped for. “That’s sweet, but I'll figure it out.”

  Shit, he couldn’t admit how much he loved her. Never in his life had he experienced that deliriously happy, sweat-inducing feeling. “Not saving…helping. I’ll go back, get my degree and play professional football. After five years, you get your citizenship. Maybe that psycho will lose interest or, at the very least, you’ll be married to someone famous as hell.”

  Remy chuckled at that last part, which eased the tension in his chest. He sensed a smidgen of a chance.

  “But you and your family have done so much already…” Turning away, she continued through the field.

  “Being married to a diplomat’s son allows you a certain amount of protection. He won’t be able to touch you.” A slight stutter in her step told him that he had her on the ropes. Knox hurried around to the front of her.

  Adding his heartfelt plea for her to stay with him would one hundred percent guarantee a hard sprint in the opposite direction. He decided to appeal to her analytical side.

  “We’re not going to be together for long periods of time, and let’s face it… Long distance doesn’t work.” While she tucked one of those wild and sexy curls behind her ear, she bit her lower lip.

  “How about if I catch feelings for someone, I let you know in advance?” He gently put his hand around her waist to pull her close.

  “Are you serious?” she asked.

  “Hey, I’m the one putting it on the line here.” Since he had no intention of loving anyone but her, Knox managed to say that mess with a straight face. “We can get the marriage sealed, but it would look better if we didn’t date other people.”

  “And what if I’m interested in someone?” She spun away from his touch.

  The thought had honestly never occurred to him. “Just let me know,” he replied, with every intention of ending that shit ASAP. “Do we have a deal?” The minute she provided him with a ‘yes’, his sole goal would be to knock her up. Interested in someone else? What the hell?

  “D-e-a-l?” She drew out her words in the form of a question. Knox could tell she wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he would take it.

  Lowering his head to peck those sexy lips, he inw
ardly rejoiced. He honestly hadn’t thought she would agree. “So, are you busy tomorrow?”

  * * * *

  Knox fiddled with his phone, hoping Remy would text or call. The unknown was driving him crazy.

  “Holy shit.” One of the women had finally figured out the code to Remy’s cloud account a few minutes before.

  “Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” a different hacker said.

  Not for the first time that day, his body seemed to work without much direction from his brain.

  As the pixie chick vomited in his trash, everyone surrounded Bumblebee’s screen. At six-foot-six, he rarely had to move anyone out of his way to see over them. When he joined Hawk in the back of the group, she flipped through crime scene photos, autopsy pictures and newspaper clippings of Remy’s family. Her parents had been shot in the head during a carjacking, while her aunt had allegedly hanged herself. Different evidence files and investigations were saved on her cloud account. In the far-off distance, someone cried.

  His wife had hunted the congressman in the same manner he had hunted her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Remy opened her eyes to a dim room and a dry throat. What the hell happened?

  “Looking for that boy, aint’cha?”

  She groaned at the sound of the congressman’s voice. God, she hated him.

  “He’s down at the police station being interrogated. Hopefully they deport his Canadian ass. Even though he’s a white foreigner, it will still look great on my record.”

  How the hell did he get in here? Remy scanned the room for a call button but didn’t find one.

  “Bo was never supposed to beat you that bad. I mean, back when you were at school.”

  She tried to scoot herself up but didn’t have enough strength to move. Resigned to her fate, she lay there and listened to the ramblings of the sadistic asshole.

  “He was supposed to rough you up enough for me to swoop in and save the day. Who knew you were with that idiot jock? I only caught wind of that shit after you ran. What was that, like the third or fourth time?” He chuckled. “Shit, you’d think you would learn that I will always find you.”

  Remy turned her head in his direction. He sat in the corner, shrouded in the darkness. Brooks had always been the perfect villain.

  What the hell?

  A normal life truly seemed too much to ask. She scanned the nearby table for a weapon.

  “That looney aunt of yours had a head for numbers. Once she caught me siphoning money from her accounts, she filed for divorce. Who the hell did that gal think she was?”

  Both sides of Remy’s family had been fairly well off. Aunt Valentine, the creative sort, had flitted around from one endeavor to another. Mom had warned her younger sister about Brooks, but Valentine wouldn’t listen.

  “Your momma never believed her sister killed herself. She had the nerve to hire an investigator who petitioned for your aunt’s remains to be exhumed. The only reason I didn’t have that bitch cremated? Well, that sort of thing looks bad.”

  He was a charming, handsome devil of a man who had managed to snare her aunt into his web of deceit and lies. If she put aside his evil essence, Remy could understand Brooks’ appeal.

  The congressman stood up. Dark shadows played across his distinguished face. “The only thing I didn’t see coming with that loon was her leaving all her money to you.” He sucked his camera-ready teeth. “I’ve got to tell you that it was a blow. So I came up with an idea to kill your parents. That way I’d get their money, Valentine’s money and you.” He stood at the edge of her bed, inches away from her head. She willed her foot to his face—however, she couldn’t feel her legs. The stuff in her IV was some seriously good shit.

  “I didn’t count on you being so smart.” He wagged his finger at her. “You ran and stayed gone until you were old enough to collect all that money—depriving of me of my inheritance and that fresh pussy,” he spat out, losing that charming tone he had perfected. “The thought of that big, football-playing doof wrecking what was mine just—” Brooks held his hand to his chest and took a couple of deep breaths, tapping a little beat. “Anyway, that’s over, but let that little wound be a reminder.” He shoved his face in front of hers. “You belong to me.”

  As he blew a bitter mix of alcohol and adrenaline in her face, Remy felt helpless.

  “Congressman?” Completely mesmerized by his sheer closeness, she hadn’t heard anyone come into the room. Several people crowded her doorway. “I don’t believe you’re on the list of visitors.” Doris emerged from the group.

  Brooks pulled away from Remy’s face and hurried to cover his vicious essence with a bullshit smile. “I’m positive that has to be an oversight. After all, I am her only family.” He patted the back of her hand.

  Remy jerked away from his touch.

  “No, sir. Her next of kin is her husband,” Doris said.

  “Who isn’t here.” He sneered.

  “Mr. Knox is giving a detailed description of the man who stabbed his wife to the police.”

  Brooks snorted. “Are you sure that’s not a smokescreen? Anyway, who are you?”

  “Oh, sorry.” Doris stepped into the room, along with several women the size of linebackers. “I’m your worst fucking nightmare. Now step away from my client.”

  The congressman clutched the bed frame before he gained his composure and chuckled. “What’s with the hostility, sweetheart? Surely you don’t believe I would do my niece any harm?” While he pleaded his innocence, he took a small step away from her.

  “Yeah.” Doris waved him off. “Save that shit for your idiot constituents. What you’re going to do right now is go outside. Get in front of those cameras you love and tell the press how Gavin Knox is giving the police a description of the attacker. Throw in a little smile with a two-step for all I care, but convey to them that the quarterback is totally and utterly distraught.”

  Brooks chuckled. “Why would I do that? He could be shooting up with GHB or steroids as we speak.”

  “True, but the video surveillance that didn’t mysteriously get erased like the other camera footage in the area shows a pretty beat-up assailant. He’s running away from the scene. It would be helpful for you to make my client appear heartbroken.” Doris stepped between the bed and the congressman. “Because if even a small kernel of evidence turns up implicating that your ass-backwards cousin had anything to do with this, I’ll have it on every morning news show…ASAP.”

  For a shadow of a second, the congressman’s face contorted into pure rage before he trained his expression back to normal. “Get better, hon.” Brooks leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be seeing you real soon.” He straightened up and slowly strolled out of the room with the confidence of a man who would never get caught.

  Doris whistled low. “Sorry, Remy.” She held her stomach and took a deep breath. “They weren’t supposed to let him into your room. I didn’t know… Shit.” With shaking hands, she pushed back her perfectly coiffed silver hair.

  “Knox?” Remy asked.

  “He’s fine. We’ve got the techies with him.” She patted Remy’s hand before she clutched it really hard. “Shit. We’re going to have to move you faster than we thought. Hang tight. We’re getting you the fuck out of here. That sick son of a bitch pretty much announced his presidential candidacy on the hospital lawn. Shit!” For someone of Doris’ caliber to unravel, Remy knew she was in deep trouble.

  * * * *

  After working well into the early morning hours, the tech team packed up. Knox watched the news. A close-up shot of the attacker filled the screen. He tried to remember anything about the guy that would help but he couldn’t. Blinded by rage at the time, his mind had gone blank.

  “The first year you were drafted…” Hawk said. Knox turned from the screen. “Your parents sent me to you for spring break, said you felt homesick and to make sure you stayed put. That’s when she left Canada, wasn’t it? I was a designated babysitter?”

  Knox scrat
ched the back of his head and chuckled. His parents had known he would take off the first chance he got. It would only make sense that they would send Hawk to keep an eye on him. “Yeah, she left power of attorney papers for me on her bed and instructions on what my parents should do with her stuff before she left. There was no word on where she was going.”

  “Now that I think about it, you were hella edgy. I just thought you were stressed over being a rookie in the league, but—”

  “She didn’t run,” Bumblebee said. While most of the team had already left, the woman was still working on her computer. “There are anonymous emails threatening your parents’ lives.”

  Knox crossed the room. Passing over her laptop to him, she stood up. “Hey, Daisy, you got a minute?” Bumblebee caught the other hacker at the door.

  Hundreds of threatening emails, all from the same account, ascended by date. Sicko6669. Knox picked a couple to read. They all had a maniac bent to them.

  He only looked away once as the hackers exploded into screams. “Lovers’ quarrel?” Hawk asked. After they’d found Remy’s cloud account, the tension in his condo had become unbearable. Not in the least bit concerned about those two, he shrugged.

  “I’m staying over, so don’t complain about it.” The big guy patted him on the back and headed to the guest bedroom.

  While the women continued to hiss at one another, Mooch waited in the hallway to drive a couple of the hackers home. Knox nodded his thanks before he returned his attention to the screen. He opened the folder that had his name on it. Amazed by all of the pictures of them together, he took his time flipping through the shots. In a world of his own, he didn’t hear Bumblebee return.

  Reaching over him, she enlarged one of the pictures.

  Cast in a blue color, a naked Remy glanced over her shoulder, with the side of her round, upturned breast on display.

  A perfect work of art.

  “That one makes me want try out a new lifestyle,” she admitted. “I hope you took that picture. Otherwise, this will be a different discussion.”