Okay, so Knox discovered that I had an abusive ex-boyfriend.
Fantastic. Truly. What could possibly go wrong?
I knew it wasn’t fair of me to be angry at Knox. It’s not like he’d texted me with the intention of deceiving me. I’d reread the exchange a dozen times and confirmed what I already knew: I was the one who’d inadvertently spilled my secrets. He’d just been texting me.
But Iwasangry. I didn’t like anyone knowing about my humiliating past with Silas, let alone Knox. Even if he’d suspected it, I didn’t want him to KNOW it.
Truth be told, I was angry at myself too. Why hadn’t I been more careful when that text came in?
Because it never dawned on me in a million years that an inmate at Coldwater Penitentiary would somehow have access to a cell phone, let alone be using one to check in on me.
But it happened. And now that it did, I had to figure out how to handle this. Mitigate the damage. Convince Knox to stop asking questions.
Knox was already in the infirmary when I arrived.
His eyes found mine the moment I walked through the door.
The look he gave me was a silent declaration.We’re talking about this.
I glared right back.No. We’re not.
I busied myself at the desk, pretending to review charts I’d already reviewed twice. Pretending I couldn’t feel him watching me. Pretending the weight of everything unsaid wasn’t pressing down on the room like a physical force.
Dr. Mercer had a meeting with the warden this morning. Which meant I was alone with Knox for at least the next hour.
Fantastic.
“Harper.”
I didn’t look up. “I’m busy.”
“We need to talk.”
“No. We don’t.” I stood abruptly, grabbing a random folder. “I need to check the exam room’s inventory.”
I headed for the back room, but Knox was faster. He stepped into my path, six foot four of immovable muscle blocking my exit. Not threatening. Not aggressive. Just … there.
“Move,” I said.
“Not until we talk.”
I tried to sidestep him. He mirrored the movement. I went the other way. So did he.
“Knox.”
“Harper.”
I glared up at him. He stared down at me. Neither of us moved.
The thing was, I didn’t feel afraid. That was the insane part. Any other man blocking my path would have sent me into full fight-or-flight mode. But Knox? Knox was just standing there, arms loose at his sides, shoulders relaxed, making himself as nonthreatening as a six-foot-four convicted killer could possibly be.
He wasn’t trapping me. He was just … not letting me run.
I could feel the tension radiating off him. Could feel the metaphorical clock ticking before he’d begin his interrogation.
He was absolutely not getting a single word out of me about any of this.
The text exchange had been a mistake. Letting my secret slip had been a mistake. But the biggest mistake came before that, when his handholding had sent a spark of unwanted feelings through me.
