Page 14

Fear had rules. Fear meant keeping my voice low, watching my words, memorizing the smallest changes in Derek’s mood before they turned into something worse. Fear meant knowing exactly when to apologize, when to disappear, when to make myself smaller so I wouldn’t become a target.

Safety, though, was unfamiliar. It was waking up in a house where nobody screamed my name from another room. It was getting dressed without tears or bruises on my face.

It was walking into a kitchen without wondering if I was about to be accused of doing something wrong. It was making pancakes for a man who looked like he had personally declared war against happiness and watching him actually eat them.

Knox Mercer, as I was starting to learn, was a contradiction I didn’t understand.

He looked like danger. Everything about him screamed danger. The tattoos covering his skin. The sharpness in his eyes. The way people moved around him carefully, like they were afraid of stepping on a landmine.

But then there were moments. Small moments. Like the way he lowered his voice when he noticed me flinch. Like the way he silently placed food in front of me that first morning instead of demanding answers. Like the way he had eaten my pancakes while pretending he was doing me a favor.

He was everything my mama and papa warned about. But I knew better now. After all, the fine face in a suit was the real devil I had to deal with.

I stared at the empty plate on the counter. With nothing to do, this was starting to become my new normal. Waking up early enough to make us breakfast before he left the house. Yet again, the giant grump had finished everything. I smiled before I could stop myself.

“You’re smiling.”

My head snapped up.

Knox stood near the doorway, dressed for the day. Black jeans. Dark shirt. That same intimidating expression that would've made me nervous. Except now I knew better. Or at least I was starting to.

“I’m not.”

His eyebrow lifted. “You are.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

I glanced at the empty plate. “You finished breakfast.”

His face immediately hardened. He sounded accusing when he said, “I was hungry.”

I laughed softly. There it was. The tiny crack in his armor. “You know, for someone who acts like emotions are illegal, you’re pretty easy to read.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not easy to read.”

“You are.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

A pause. Then he looked away.

It was enough to make me smile. But then the tiny voice at the back of my mind chose that time to remind me this wasn't real. And it wouldn't last.

I was a stranger in his home. An inconvenience. I hated that thought, but it was the truth. Every day I stayed here, I was one step closer to being discovered. Derek would never let me go if he found me. Not sure there was much a man like Knox could do if he wanted to.

Fingers trembling at the mind-boggling thoughts, I grabbed the dishes, ready to do them. Maybe if I played my cards right—

“What are you doing?”

I nearly flinched at the question, but then looked over my shoulder. Knox's brows furrowed as he watched me quizzically.

“Cleaning,” I answered, trying to keep my emotions from seeping into my voice.

His expression changed slightly as he took a step toward me. “You cooked.”