Authors: Michelle M. Watson
Mr. Knight
“I’m
taking you out,” Max states. “Are you up for a burger?”
“You
don’t need to. The ball is only a day away.”
“Please?”
“Max—”
He
drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around my middle and stuffing his face in
the fabric of my shirt, pressing his lips into my belly. Then he whispers in
Arabic, begging me. My heart instantly melts and I turn into a spineless
creature. I love when Max speaks to me in Arabic. Though the language is
foreign, I feel a close connection to it. Sometimes, I whisper to Max in
Spanish. My dad taught Tyler and I Spanish as soon as we were old enough to
comprehend it. I was sort of rusty at first. I haven’t conversed in Spanish in
so long. It’s been years now.
I
run my hands through his thick, curly hair and tug lightly. “That’s so not
fair, you found my weak spot.”
Max
smiles up at me. “You have many spots, but none are weak.” He kisses my above
my bellybutton and I gasp, legs still feeling a little shaky.
He
grabs Birthday and her pink leash and we head out the door. Dread fills me as
Max pulls into the lot at Roxy’s. My eyes instantaneously find Hunter’s red
truck parked a few spaces away. My stomach is infested with drunken butterflies
that threaten to batter and tear each other apart.
“Max,”
I murmur in an unsteady voice, “I can’t go inside.”
His
brows snap together,
then
he jerks his head up.
“What’s the matter? You were fine a moment ago?”
“It’s,”
I clear my throat but the fear won’t fade. “I can’t stomach seeing…Hunter. Just
order and take it to go.”
I
guess he agrees, but I can’t hear what he says over the thundering beat in my
ears. Max smiles and touches my face. His eyes thoroughly take in mine and his
smile instantly vanishes. I don’t know what Max found within them, but I can
tell he doesn’t approve. I sigh when he leaves to get the food.
Refusing
to wait a second longer, I grab Birthday and her leash. She needs to relieve
herself and I need some air. We stroll along the sidewalk and trimmed brushes.
Though we live in a small southern town, a large portion of the Cherry Creek
population is seriously wealthy. It’s not uncommon to see several luxury cars
parked in a lot of a Shop & Go. Most of Bayham County is pristine and
orderly. We still carry on apple-pies-cooling-on-the-windowsill-and-bible-study-on-every-Tuesday-and-Thursday-nights
tradition. The town of Cherry Creek reminds me of those model towns. Everything
looks immaculate and synthetic.
Loud
giggling brings me from my reverie. I involuntary turn my head in the
direction, instantly wanting to crumble into nothing. Candy, dressed in her
Roxy uniform, covers Hunter’s face in red kisses. His eyes are screwed shut but
he’s smiling, and his hands are below her waist, cupping her ass. She embraces
him. The muscles in his arms flex as he squeezes her back. Hunter whispers
something in her ear and she nuzzles deeper into him, playfully slapping his
arm and laughing softly. Just then Max saunters out the glass door with a
plastic takeout bag hanging from his hand. He stops by Hunter’s truck and taps
Candy on the shoulder. Her long ruby-colored ponytail smacks Max in the face as
she swirls around, her smile and eyes get wider as she embraces Max, even
lifting both feet off the ground. Max hugs her back and then quickly releases
her. He says something to Hunter and, to my surprise, they both shake hands. It
was brief but they did it. Hunter tells Max something. Max’s eyes dart to his
SUV, quickly scanning the lot. Candy finds me before Max does. She jumps
excitedly and points directly at me. Max gives me an easy smile and waves me
over. Candy clasps her hands and once my gaze shifts to Hunter’s, he holds my
eyes captive as I make my way over to them.
Why
does it feel like I’m walking over scolding coals?
“…she’s
been doing well. I wish I knew what those nightmares were about, though. She
wakes up every morning with a sudden jolt and breathlessness. Her whole body is
bathed in sweat. It’s like she’s drowning and she can’t get air fast enough.” I
have to talk to Max about divulging personal information. He should know
better. He is a cop. “Pumpkin!” Max throws a heavy arm over my shoulders,
pulling me close to him.
Hunter
eyes narrow and he is clenching his jaw. He intensely stares at me, it’s like
he’s looking past all the physical and peering into the core of my being.
“Hey,”
I say in a strained voice. “Candy, Hunter.”
I’m
startled when Candy wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry you haven’t been
sleeping well. Mama makes this sleepy time tea for me when I come on my period.
I get cranky and can’t rest for nothing in the world. The tea knocks me right
on out. I can have her make you a batch and drop it off at Max’s.”
“No.
That’s okay. It’s not worth the trouble,” I mumble.
“You sure? ’
Cause it’ll
solve all your sleeping problems. I’m sure you can use a goodnight’s rest.”
“I—”
“She
would love that,” Hunter interjects. His turbulent eyes hold mine. “Isabel,
what do you say?”
“T-thank
you,” I stammer, responding automatically.
Hunter
grins, smugly.
Max
gives me a strange look.
Damn!
She
holds me at arm’s length before releasing me. “I’m so glad. Well, I’ll call
Mama tonight and drop it off later if you want.”
Hunter’s
grin turns into a full-blown smile. He gives me a slight nod.
“Yes,
that’s fine. Thank you again, Candy.”
She
turns her attention to Birthday. “She’s growing. She’s a pretty little
somethin’ too.”
“Birthday
is like our own baby. We take turns walking and feeding her. Isabel and I make
a great team,” Max declares.
I
can’t even look Hunter in the face right now, but I can feel the fury emitting
off his body in lethal doses. Letting my gaze fall, I tug on Max’s sleeve.
“Max, let’s go.
Later, Hunter.”
“See
ya’ll at the ball,” Max says over his shoulder.
“Later,”
Hunter whispers so lowly I almost didn’t catch it. The problem is that I feel
Hunter’s whisper all over my skin.
When
we get back to the house, Max and I eat our burgers while watching Titanic.
“Why did you tell them about my nightmares?”
“I
wanted to see Hunter’s reaction,” Max says through mouthfuls of food.
I
study him a moment. “You think he tried to kill me.”
He
takes a huge chunk from his burger, eyes still on the TV screen. “It wouldn’t
surprise me. He has a motive. He’s been stalking you for years. I don’t trust
him, Pumpkin. Something isn’t right with Hunter. The way he looks at you…it’s
strange.”
“We’ve
been best friends since we were little, Max. Hunter would never harm me. You
don’t know him like I do.”
He
sighs, slinking his half-eaten burger in the box. Max runs his hands irately
through his hair, squeezing as he does. “I don’t think we should discuss this
anymore. You bite my head off every time I mention his name.” He brings his
hands to his forehand and presses them in.
I
have been making this more difficult for Max. It’s like I’m having Hunter
withdraws. I can’t help but lash out at Max when he only is trying to help me.
Feeling
guilty, I crawl into Max’s lap, laying my head on his chest. “I’m sorry. I
can’t seem to think clearly with everything that’s happening.”
Max
strokes my hair and then kisses the top of my head. “It has to be very
difficult for you to let him go, but I’m looking out for your well-being. I
don’t think you get that much.”
I
fight down the urge to protest and simply nestle into him.
Waking
with a sharp jolt, I sit up on the couch disorientated, choking, and sweaty. My
dark blue T-shirt clings to me like a second skin. I’m alone again. The TV is
muted and everything is just too quiet. Max probably got called into duty
because I notice his cruiser is gone once I peer out the window into the
pitch-black night. My car is parked next to his Suburban. I’m limited to the
places Max said I could go, but I need to talk to Mr. Knight. He’s the only one
with the answers I need.
Hero
said Caleb lived in one of his condos in town. I know (and the entire
population of Bayham County knows) exactly where his properties are. The ride
to the center of town is a brief one. The glistening buildings in a rainbow of
hues seem to expand every year. Mr. Knight does have an eye for beauty and
luxury.
Taking
in a deep breath, I push through the glass doors. An attractive man in a black
suit greets me at the front desk. “Welcome to Home Bay. How may I help you?” He
has smooth, faint accent that I can’t quite place. He looks like a freaking
editorial model.
“Umm…”
I flip my long hair from my face and shift nervously from foot to foot. “Can I
speak with Mr. Knight please?”
The
man gives me a critical once-over, taking in my loose casual clothing and my
red Converse sneakers. My stomach flutters. I hate being looked at like that.
It’s like I’m being appraised.
He
smiles, blinding me with straight white teeth. “What’s your name?”
“Isabel
Waters.”
His
smile broadens. “Isabel Waters. Pretty. I like your country accent.”
“I
don’t have a country accent.” I really don’t…well, if I do, it’s not a strong
one or like those annoying ones you see on TV.”
“Yes
you do.” He winks. “It’s as
country
as cornbread.”
“I
do not,” I mutter, sort of irritated.
“Calm
down, Isabel Waters. I’m only teasing. You don’t have a thick country accent,
it’s very, very faint but it’s there.”
“May
talk to Mr. Knight now?”
“I’m
afraid he isn’t feeling very well at the moment.”
I
lean forward, gripping the edge of the polished wood. “Please…it’s imperative.”
“
Mmm
. Big
words for a small girl.”
Bastard!
“Small
brain for a big boy,” I counter.
His
cheeks lift and he tosses his head to laugh. “I like you.”
I
glance at the slim silver badge on his suit jacket. Harry is engraved into it.
“I can’t say the same Harry. Where are you from?”
“London.”
“Well,
are all London boys this idiotic?”
He
smirks, smoothing his dark hair in place.
“Most.
Are
all southern girls this feisty?”
“Most,”
I mimic. I get the feeling that Hank enjoys toying with people, but I don’t have
time to fool around with him. “Hank, I really, seriously need to chat with Mr.
Knight. I’m a family friend.”
“I
don’t know I—”
“Please
just give him a call and tell him I’m down here.”
Hank
grabs the phone from the hook and presses it to his ear. He dials a number and
manages to scowl at me the entire time he whispers into it. He waves a
dismissive hand towards the bank of elevators, placing the phone down on its
elegant cradle.
“The very top floor.”
“Thank
you, Hank.”
“You’re
welcome, Miss Waters.”
I
press the “up” button and step into the mirrored elevator. “Maybe I can take
you out for Lucky Charms sometime.”
Hank
makes a face in distaste right before the doors slide together. The twentieth
floor is already lit. I take a step back and sag against the cool mirrored wall
as I begin to ascend. I mentally prepare myself to interrogate Mr. Knight, so
it’s all too soon when the doors slide apart.
Once
through the massive double wooden doors, I stand in the marble foyer feeling
out of place in all this stylish lavishness. My mouth is agape as I step
forward. Everything is sheer magnificence and wealth from the ultra soft
snow-white carpet that sinks with each step beneath my feet, to the dark and
extravagant furniture and fixtures.
It
doesn’t take me long to find Mr. Knight. He is dressed in a button-up shirt and
loose fitting slacks and is reclined in an armchair with a short but wide glass
in his hand, fingers curling around the gleaming dark liquid. His eyes are shut
and his expression is indecipherable in the moonlight.
“Mr.
Knight?”
His
brows lift but his eyes stay close. “Take seat, Isabel.”
My
throat constricts. I swallow loudly and sit on the leather sectional opposite
of him.
He
gestures to the coffee table lined with an array of crystal flasks that glint
with different rich liquids. “Please, help yourself to a drink.”
“No,
thank you. I’m driving.”
And underage
.
His
brows lift again “Humph,” he mutters, bringing the glass to his lips that are a
little too full like Hunter’s and Hero’s. If Hunter and Hero is the definition
of handsome, Mr. Knight is the origin of it. His longish blond hair and beard
is streaked with a bit of silver gray that only adds to his beauty. His face and
long body is a sculpted statue of pure perfection. My eyes drop to his white
dress shirt that’s mostly undone. Tanned skin and tone muscle peek through the
sliver of space. Mr. Knight is nothing short of those powerful, absurdly
handsome men that women fantasize about. Seeing him makes me eager for Hunter
to start ageing. Like right away.