Page 59 of When The Noise Stops

I was surprised when he pulled out weed and rolled a blunt like he'd done it in the dark a hundred times. He lit it, pulled, and passed it without asking if I wanted it.

I did.

The smoke sat in the room the way the music did. Slow. Heavy.

"Tell me something about you, Grizz."

He looked at the ceiling.

"Like what?"

"Anything. When you were little. Before the Marines. Before the shop. Before you became..." I waved my hand over him.

His eyes moved to me.

"Became what?"

"This."

"That cleared it up."

"You know what I mean. All big and grumpy and tattooed."

"I was smaller."

I stared at him.

"Thank you, Knox. Riveting."

His mouth twitched.

"I'm serious."

He looked back at the ceiling.

I pulled the blanket higher over my chest.

"I feel like I've taken advantage of you."

That got his attention.

"What? I grabbed you earlier."

"Not like that. I definitely participated in what just happened. I'm saying since I met you. It's like you spawned. Like a big-ass biker NPC beside those garbage cans exactly when I needed you, and you've just been there ever since."

"What's an NPC?" he frowned.

"It doesn't matter. The point is, I don't know anything about you."

I was actually thinking about what I wanted to do for him since he told me what the insurance would leave him with.

But there was a difference between knowing somebody was a good man and knowing what kind of man he was.

Before I put something this big in his hands, I wanted to know Knox. Not Grizz. Not the man who found me shaking beside the garbage cans. Him. Plus, I'd run a background check. I wasn't about to put this kind of opportunity in a man's hands just because he made me feel safe and fucked me good in the rain. I'd made enough life decisions based on how a man made me feel.

I needed to know who the fuck Knox Mercer actually was.

He passed the blunt back.