While he gets the washcloth and soap ready, I can’t help but raise my fingertips to Knox’s stubbled cheek again.
He doesn’t bat my hand away, giving me his silent permission to caress his sharp jawline as he cleans me reverently.
“I’ll have the sleeping pills I ordered.” He runs the washcloth over my waist, only looking up to tell me, “That’s when our life can begin.”
“Sleeping pills?”
“Yes.” Creases of concentration appear between his eyebrows.
“We…” I smooth them with my thumb while doing my best to quiet the dread coiling in my gut. “We’ll have to stay here for that long?”
My bandage is off. Knox cleans the wound in silence before wrapping it back up. I wait for him to answer, trembling when his cold glare cuts to me.
“Yes, we have to. I want to keep them alive, but as long as they’re breathing…” His expression tightens. “There’s no way out of this place.”
“Knox.” Lead lines my stomach, my heart heavy. “I’m sorry.”
“They are who they are. Like what they like. And me, I don’t hate it here. I’m just bored.” He shrugs and slides a new shirt over my body, cupping my cheeks in his warm hands. So warm. “There’s more to life than this. Like you. Our future kids. Cities,buildings. Schools, libraries, parks. I saw them all online, on Jett’s computer. And I’m going to have that. With you. That’s why I waited so long, I guess. For you to get here. So you see, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”
For a few long moments, guilt pounds at my ribs. I’m incredibly fortunate to have freedom. I’ve always taken for granted what Knox has to fight for.
He doesn’t seem to mind my heavy mood, filling the silence with care. Easing my hair out from where it’s been trapped in my shirt, he smooths it down like touching me is second nature to him.
“The pills?” I ask when I manage to talk. “Where did you order them from? Maybe we can get them faster?”
“No, I already asked.” Within seconds, he’s given himself another washcloth shower and put on a clean shirt and jeans from the pile he has on the table.
“Does that man—the one who’s going to give you the sleeping pills—know what your family is doing for a living?”
Last thing I need is someone, or worse, the cops, hunting us down after we leave Colbert.
I haven’t been waiting for this man my entire life to have the cops rip him away from me.
“No.”
He throws a towel over his shoulder, and then I’m up in his arms, being carried deeper into the basement. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. He thinks we’re using endangered species as leather, that they’re what makes our leather products stand out.” The towel he’s brought with us goes on the chair first, my ass second. Knox’s fingers wind in my hair, tugging it so I look at him. “And I paid him enough to buy his silence and the pills. That way, I can knock my family out without hurting them.”
My chest twists. I wrap my fingers around Knox’s wrist, squeezing his hand. “You tried to leave before.”
“Didn’t make it.” A shrug. “They’re light sleepers.”
Assholes, that’s what they are.
Not for wanting him to stay here. I get that; they’re his family.
I hate them for treating him like he’s less than when they should be grateful that he doesn’t slaughter them.
The urge to tell him that, or better yet, to kill them myself, is strong.
Except Knox doesn’t need to hear it. He already knows.
“Okay.” I offer him a smile, lending him my warmth.
Knox kisses the top of my head as if closing the discussion.
He turns around and stalks off. I spin to watch him clear the table of the bowls, the first aid kit, and the towels, putting them all in his picnic basket.
