Knuckles may not hate me anymore, but he still carries thispresencethat makes me feel like a kid caught sneaking cookies.
He sits at the kitchen table like he owns the place.
I hover like a confused ghost.
“Sit,” he says.
I sit immediately.
He narrows his eyes. “You always listen that fast?”
I shrug, feeling my cheeks warm. “Just when I’m nervous. Never was much of a man. My dad always called me a coward.”
Knuckles goes still.
“Well,” he says slowly, voice low enough to make my ribs tighten, “your dad sounds like a real piece of shit.”
My ears burn. “He wasn’t… I mean, he just thought I needed to toughen up.”
Both of my parents died a few years back from the outbreak that hit the world. They had me late in life, and when they passed away…I had no one. No friends. No family.
Knuckles leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah. That’s what assholes say right before ruining their kids.”
I swallow.
He gestures at me with one hand. “You open the door without checking because you trust people. That’s not cowardice. That’s innocence.” He raises a brow. “You follow orders quick because you don’t like conflict. That’s not weakness. That’s awareness.”
His eyes lock on mine, sharp enough to pin me to the chair.
“And nervous don’t mean coward. Nervous means you got something to lose.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
Knuckles sighs like I’m exhausting him. “Look. You ain’t a coward. You’re overwhelmed. And tired. And you’ve been alone long enough to think that’s your fault.”
My throat tightens.
“Skip didn’t bring a coward into his house,” Knuckles says, voice going gentler. Well,gentle for him,which still sounds like gravel wrapped in sandpaper. “He brought someone he wants to keep alive.”
I blink fast, trying not to cry like an idiot.
Knuckles points at the counter. “Now get up. You’re pale as shit. You need water. And food. And probably ten more hours of sleep.”
I stand so fast I nearly knock the chair over.
He grunts. “See? Quick listener. Useful. Not cowardly.”
And for the first time since I’ve met him, he actually smiles.
“Sit back down, Eli,” he says, shaking his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something, and then I’ll feed you.”
“I can feed myself,” I say, easing back into the chair.
“I’m sure you can,” he replies. “But I’ve been left in charge until the men get back. Last thing I need is for Skip to kill me before my time if I don’t make sure you’re taken care of. Besides, in about ten minutes, this house is gonna be flooded with women and children who consider themselves the welcoming committee. So I need to get this done now.”
Okay… that’s a lot to unpack.
“Before your time?” I ask carefully.
