“I needed to shut you up.”
“It was a very effective method.” He tilted his head, studying me in that way he did. Like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve, and then he ruined all the traces of banter by adding, “But I’m not letting this go.”
My stomach dropped. “You can’t do anything about Silas. I’m handling it myself.”
The shift in him was immediate. The smirk vanished. His entire body tensed.
“So, it is him.”
“Knox.”
“He’s the one who hurt you. And now he’s walking these halls like he belongs here. Like he has any right to be anywhere near you.”
“If he even suspects there’s something between us …” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t voice the fear that had been coiling tighter in my chest since the moment I’d seen Silas walk through those prison gates.
“He’ll hurt you,” Knox finished.
Well, yes. But also, “He’ll hurt you. He’ll make sure you never see the outside of these walls again. You don’t understand. Silas is like a dog with a bone. The only way to stop him is through the courts. If you do something to him, he’ll show up to every parole hearing for the rest of your sentence just to make sure you stay locked up.”
Knox’s jaw tightened. I watched his fingers stretch slowly, like he was preparing for a fight that wasn’t here yet. His patience thinning in real time.
“You’re asking me to do nothing.”
“I’m asking you to be smart.”
“He put his hands on you.” The words came out sharp. “And you want me to walk past him every day like I don’t know that. Like I don’t see him looking at you. Like I don’t know exactly what he’s thinking when he does.”
“Yes.” I stepped closer. Close enough to see the war happening behind his eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
“Harper.”
“Knox.” I reached for him without thinking. My hand found his forearm, just above where the cuff bit into his wrist. His skin was warm. The muscles beneath were rigid as steel. “Listen to me. Please.”
He didn’t pull away. But he didn’t soften either.
“Every time we’ve been alone,” I said quietly, “there’s been the risk that any second, someone could walk in. A guard. Another nurse. An inmate needing stitches. I’ve never had more than stolen seconds with you, and even those came with a countdown clock.”
His chest rose and fell. Once. Twice.
“But right now? This might be the only time we get. The only time for years, Knox.” Maybe ever, if he did something stupid. “So, please, can you give me this? Can you just … be here with me? Not thinking about Silas. Not planning violence. Just … this. Just us.”
I mean, my God, I refused to let Silas steal this from me too. This precious time with Knox.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then something shifted. The stillness cracked. His shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch, and he let out a breath that sounded like it had been locked in his chest for fourteen years.
The cuffs clinked as he reached for me, his range limited but his intention clear.
I moved into the space his bound arms allowed, and he pulled me against him in a hug. His cuffed hands came to rest at my waist, the cold metal pressing against my hip through my scrubs, while my cheek pressed into his chest.
And my body did something it hadn’t done in years. It relaxed. Not the forced relaxation of deep breathing exercises or the temporary calm of a glass of wine. True relaxation. The kind where your muscles remember they don’t always have to be braced for impact.
“How long do we have?” I whispered.
“Depends on what triggered the lockdown. Could be five minutes. Could be an hour.” He paused. “But the alarm will sound different when they’re about to lift it. Three short bursts instead of the continuous wail. We’ll have warning.”
I pulled my cheek away so I could look up at him. “You’re sure?”
