And walked into my house without any underwear on, with the taste of Knox still on my lips, and the promise of tonight burning between us.
51
KNOX
“Surprise!”
The word hit me like a gunshot. Years of quiet cells and monitored conversations hadn’t prepared me for this. My hand twitched toward my side, an old reflex, before my brain caught up.
A surprise party. For me.
I blinked, taking in the room. Streamers. Balloons. A cake that saidWelcome Home, Jailbirdin blue frosting, which had Axel written all over it.
And my people. Ryker. Blake. Jace. Axel. Their significant others, who I’d met or seen pictures of and heard about at length. My parents in the corner, my mother’s wheelchair tucked close to my father’s side, both of them watching me with the kind of relief that only comes from years of holding your breath. My sister.
All here to spend time with me, with no time limit. No officer standing between us. Just a room full of everyone I loved.
“I had no idea,” I said, keeping my voice flat. Then I caught Harper’s gaze across the room and winked.
She smirked, those green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Son.” My father’s voice cut through the noise before I even saw him move. He crossed to me and put both hands on my shoulders, the way he used to when I was a kid and he needed me to really hear something. His eyes were red-rimmed. “I am so proud of you.”
My throat locked. I couldn’t remember the last time those words had come out of his mouth, directed at me. Fourteen years of being the family’s great shame, and here he was, saying them like he meant every syllable.
“Thanks, Dad.”
I pulled him into a hug, brief and tight, the way men like us do it. Then I bent down to my mother in her wheelchair. She grabbed my face in both hands before I could say a word, the way she used to when I was small, and just looked at me. No words. She didn’t need any. I could feel everything she was holding—the years of worry, the prayers, the relief—all of it pouring out of her hands and into me.
I pressed my forehead to hers for just a moment.
“Hi, Mom.”
She let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob and squeezed my face harder.
After a minute, my parents drifted toward the corner of the living room, and I watched my mother reach over and take my father’s hand. Something about seeing that—the two of them, together, still standing after everything I’d put them through—hit me somewhere deep.
“Brother!” Dakota launched herself at me before I could take another step.
I caught her, wrapping my arms around her as she squeezed hard enough to re-crack a rib. I’d hugged my sister through so many prison visits, but always with guards watching. Always with the knowledge that it had to end.
Not anymore.
“Easy,” I said. “My ribs are still tender, and you’re going to squish me to death.”
She pulled back, eyes glassy, and as she stepped aside, I finally got a good look at her hand intertwined with Axel’s.
I leveled him with a look. “Of all the men in the world, you picked this man-child?”
Dakota laughed, light and airy. “He grew on me.”
“Like a fungus,” I said.
“Like acharmingfungus,” Axel corrected, grinning. Then he stepped forward and pulled me into one of those bro hugs, the kind with the back slap that said more than words ever could. “From shackles to limos, brother. You’re moving up in the world.”
The weight of his hand on my shoulder felt different out here. Solid. Real. No one was going to tell us to separate. No one was going to pat us down after.
“I take it, your release went off without a hitch?” Ryker asked, stepping into my line of sight.
