He soars through town as I swig from a six-hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey, barely even noticing that he’s going the wrong way. “Can you believe the nerve of that bitch?” I demand, watching the world pass me by. “She really thought I was just going to fall in line. As if I’m not twenty-fucking-eight years old and capable of making my own decisions. Like fuck. The audacity.”
I scoff, not even sure if Knight is listening to me anymore. He’s caught up in his own thoughts, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel as I rant and rave.
“Not to mention, she was going to hit you. Who the hell does that bitch think she is? Hitting my boyfriend? My boyfriend? Get fucked. At least my boyfriend isn’t a piece-of-shit rapist who preys on young women. Like shit. Sort out your own failings before trying to accuse me of having any. My boyfriend is great.”
I let out a loud huff, taking another swig. “I’m never going back there,” I tell Knight, certain that he’s definitely not listening anymore, yet I don’t seem to care. The words just keep coming out like word vomit. “I’d rather take a stroll through hell than go back there. In fact, I’m blocking her number just like I should have done years ago.”
Scrambling through my bag, I find my phone and immediately block Mom’s number, grinning as a wave of pride fills my chest. “There,” I say, putting my phone down in the center console. “She’s officially blocked. I never have to deal with her again. She’s Jonah’s problem now.”
I cross my arms over my chest and huff again, having run out of things to say, and yet I’m still so worked up that I’m desperate to keep going.
“What was all that shit about needing to leave?” Knight asks me a moment later, not skipping a beat. “When you first came into the living room. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. What got you so freaked out?”
“Your brother,” I mutter, watching him carefully as I clutch the neck of the whiskey bottle. “He called me kitten.”
His gaze settles on mine, watching me carefully. “Kitten, as in . . .”
“As in the name that the masked stalker calls me,” I clarify, unsure how this is going to go. “It’s him, Knight. Your brother is the asshole who stabbed me in the parking garage. His voice. His eyes. I don’t know how I didn’t see it earlier, but now that I have, it’s crystal clear. Plus, Elias has the means to pay off the doctorsto release my psych notes, and the money to special-order the mask specific to the drawing I made.”
I shake my head, feeling so fucking stupid for not having seen it earlier, and as I glance back at Knight, I see the hesitation in his eyes. “I know you don’t believe it and think I’m some crazy bitch losing her mind, but I’m telling you, it’s him.”
“You’re really sure about this,” he comments.
“I am,” I say, reaching across the center console and taking his hand. “I promise you, I’m not going crazy. I’ve been taking my meds every day, and they’re doing exactly what they’re intended to do. My mind is clear. The paranoia is gone. I’m healthy, Knight. Elias . . . He’s designed this sick game to make sure everyone in my life doubts me, and it’s working like a charm. He thinks he’s untouchable. He thinks he can do whatever he wants to me and get away with it because every person in my life thinks I’m imagining it, but it’s okay. I know you don’t believe me, and I know you’re struggling to understand me on this, but I know that when it comes down to it, you’ll be right there to catch me when I fall.”
“I’ll always catch you, doll.”
“I know,” I tell him, squeezing his hand. “All I ask is that you at least look into it. Check him out. See if he’s got an alibi for the times where he was trying to end my life. Hell, see if you can find the little hidey-hole where he’s been stashing the mask. I promise, you’ll find exactly what you need to find.”
“Okay,” he finally says, nodding. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
Knight takes another turn, taking us even farther away from our home, and I finally put everything else aside and ask the one question that’s been bugging me since he first hit the gas. “Okay, where the fuck are you taking me?”
A small grin lifts the corner of his lips. “You’ll see,” he says. “For now, just carelessly drink your sorrows away. I’ve got you.”
“Sounds good,” I say before offering him the bottle. “Want a hit?”
“Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like more than to drink my night away and forget that bullshit even happened, but not sure it’s such a great idea, considering I’m chauffeuring your ass around.”
“Right. Good point,” I say, flopping back against the seat. “So, what’s got your knickers in such a twist? I get that my mom gets under your skin just as much as mine, but this is different. What’s with all the tension between you and Elias at the start?”
“It’s nothing, doll,” he tells me. “I don’t want you worrying yourself with that shit. He’s just . . . Elias. He’s an egotistical asshole who thinks he’s untouchable.”
“True, but I don’t buy it. It’s more than that. Did something go down between you?”
He shakes his head. “Really, doll. It’s nothing. Just usual brother bullshit. We’ve butted heads since I was a kid. Always have and probably always will.”
I nod, and as he continues to drive, I get lost in thought, the whiskey finally starting to ease the rage burning through my veins. The seconds turn into minutes, and before I know it, Knight is bringing his truck to a stop outside a familiar tattoo parlor.
“Oh! Am I getting a new tattoo?” I ask, sitting up straighter in the truck as I gaze out the window, taking in Harlow’s store.
Knight scoffs. “Fuck no, doll. You’re drunk, and I’m not about to be the reason why you get some stupid design like a ruler tattooed on your arm so that you can whip it out every time my cock’s in your mouth and start measuring.”
A smirk cuts across my face. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Of course you’d like that.”
