“You’ll always have me too.”
We both grin like fools. Like people in love.
And just like that, we’re no longer strangers.
23
KNOX
“Knox. Pick up.” Papa’s voice blasts through the walkie, louder than usual.
My eyes snap open. My body—every muscle, cell, and pore—goes on high alert.
It’s morning.
Fucking morning.
Meaning I slept through the night instead of protecting Skylar.
Dust motes dance in a shaft of sunlight slanting across the basement. Soft, innocent things.
Unlike Papa’s call. I know my family; he isn’t checking up on me out of care. There’s no small talk between us, ever.
He’s testing me, trying to see whether I helped Skylar escape or if she’s using her beauty to manipulate me.
Her beauty. I scoff at that.
She’s that, and so much more.
In my arms, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow, I see her fire. Her cleverness. Her thoughtfulness. How deeply she cares about me.
As small as she is, as obedient, she owns me. Just by breathing the same air as I do, Skylar leaves me wanting, aching,hers.
I love her.
And even if she doesn’t say it, she loves me back.
She won’t be alive long enough to say it if you keep fucking up.
I curse myself inwardly again for sleeping in, for not staying up to protect her.
Staying awake was a lost cause with Skylar nuzzling the crook of my neck. With her body slung over mine, naked and used.
Resolve settles into my bones—never again.
For the next two weeks, I’ll sleep with one eye open and never more than three hours straight.
“Son?” Papa barks again.
“Dammit,” I growl.
Skylar stirs as I carefully peel her off me. I hate that. Hate that I’m stuck in this place for another two weeks. That I can’t just pack up and leave.
“Knox?” she whispers. “What’s going on?”
“Where the heck are you?” Papa’s voice rises to a shout. “Son, do I need to come down there?”
Color drains from Skylar’s face. Her eyes jump between me and the walkie.
