Chapter 20

Dmitri

“What’s going on, bro?”

I lean against the long stainless-steel counter and cross my arms. Knox is beside me, sauteing veggies. “My dad’s dead.”

Not sure if the more I say it out loud, the better off I’ll be, but it’s worth a shot.

Knox turns to me. Without another word, he grabs the back of my neck and jerks me into his body for a hug. I’m taller than him by about three inches. So why does it feel like he’s the giant here?

“Fucking Hell, D. I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” I should have visited him more. Should have done better by him.

The night that sealed Dad’s cage bars will always and forever haunt me and has been a recurring nightmare I’ve had for years.

“You speak to your mom?”

The mention of that woman has ice shooting through my veins. “No.” I shove him back so I can breathe. It’s like there’s a bear trap wrapped around my goddamn ribs, puncturing my lungs.

“Figured she’d come crawling out of the gutter if she knew.” Knox shifts his wok and shimmies the vegetables around, making them sizzle.

“Well, if she comes around me, I’ll finish what my dad should have done a long time ago.”

“And end up in prison, just like him? Naw. Don’t do it, bro. She’s not worth it.” He drizzles some kind of sauce onto the veggies. “Besides, maybe she’s dead already.”

“I’m not that fucking lucky.”

It’s weird that when I talk to Knox about my family, it doesn’t sit the same on my chest as when I talk to Ryker or Vault about it. Of the three of them, I’m closer to Ryker, but Knox and I have a bond that’s built on being similarly broken. His dad knocked him around back in the day and takes advantage of him financially now. That’s on Knox to figure out. I’ll help him handle his Pops when he’s ready. If that day ever comes.

Until then, we talk about our trauma like an old movie where you discuss specific scenes. It’s a lot of, “Hey remember when…” Well, you can fill in the blank. The point is, we see our pasts as old lives. Like we’ve been reborn, reincarnated, over and over with each step we’ve taken to better ourselves.

Knox no longer leans on drugs to get through the day.

And I’m not the frustrated, impatient kid suffering from malnutrition I used to be.

Be better. Clean. Wash my hair. Put on clean clothes .

I am better. I am clean. I wash my buzzed hair. And my clothing rack is crammed with the finest threads money can buy.

See? All good now.

“What is that you’re making?”

“Chicken stir-fry. I’m starving.” Knox sprinkles some kind of flakey seasoning into the pan.

Gotta hand it to the guy, he went from a junkie teen to a phenomenal chef who owns his own club and seeing him climb from the bottom to the top will forever be a highlight of our friendship. I’m really proud of him.

He also knows I love chicken stir-fry, so I’m touched. “What are you gonna eat?” I joke, as if I could eat the entire wok full of chicken and veggies myself. I mean, I could , but I won’t.

He plates our food and hands mine over. We quietly walk out of the kitchen and go over to a booth in the back corner of his club. It’s nine in the morning, so no one’s here.

“How’s business?”

“Getting there.” Knox already has a pitcher of ice water and two glasses at our table. The man’s prepared, like usual. “So, you’re just visiting to tell me the news, or is there something else you want to share?”

I shove a forkful of veggies and chicken in my mouth and practically swallow without chewing. I’m fucking starving. “I need a place to stay for a while.”

“You and Ryker in a fight or something?”

“No.” I shove another bite in my mouth. And another. Damn, this is good. “I just need a break from the club for a bit.”

“What’s mine is yours, D. You still got a key?”

I nod, shoveling more food in.

“Christ, man. Slow down. My dishes should be savored , not inhaled.”

He’s right, but I can’t stop. I’m not even sure when the last full meal I had was. Oh yeah… “I went to that place up by North Street. The one with the pink roof.”

“Maggie’s?”

“Yeah.”

Knox takes a sip of his water. “Any good?”

“Had the steak hash with mushrooms.” I shrug. “It was okay. I mean, I ate it.”

“You’d eat a grilled flip flop if you were hungry enough.”

True. “I’m not sure what it was missing or whatever, but you should go there one morning and figure it out.”

“Want to go now?”

“We’re already eating this.” And I’m not about to let it go to waste. “Fucking delicious, by the way.”

“I know.” Knox stuffs a big bite into his mouth and chews.

I stab into another piece of tender chicken, but my mind wanders to breakfast with Daelyn.

“Hooya gowif.”

“What?”

“Hooya gowif?”

“Jesus Christ, you animal. Chew your food before you talk.”

Knox swallows hard, chokes, and chugs some water before he repeats, “Who did you go with?”

“Where?”

He slams his glass down. “Maggie’s, asshat!”

“Oh.” Her name is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it, so she’s stays there. “What makes you think I went with someone?”

“You just got this stupid dopey look on your ugly face, bro. Only a woman does that to a man.”

“No one you know.”

“Ohhh, so there is a woman. I was just bluffing. You always have that stupid dopey look on your face, man. I think it’s because of all your concussions and broken noses.”

The laugh that bubbles out of me feels so good. I flip him the bird before taking another bite and finish my plate in half the time it takes Knox to polish off his.

“Maybe you should take her out more often,” he finally says. “If that’s when you’ll eat an actual meal instead of thriving on your fancy espressos.” He uses his fork like a conductor’s wand. “Say it with me. Coffee is not water. You can’t hydrate with lattes.”

Speaking of hydration, I hope Daelyn’s drinking water.

My hand instinctively goes to my cell. The urge to text her is so strong it churns the food in my belly. But I refrain. She ghosted me. I need to respect the boundary she’s set, even though it hurts like hell. I think I scared her last night with how much we did together.

I must have read her wrong.

Last night she begged for things I was all too eager to give her. She came around my dick more times than I could count. She screamed my motherfucking name and I know damn well a lot of the club heard it, even with the music playing over the surround sound. I made her keep eye contact with me in the beginning. Halfway through our third scene, she had me tied up on the bed and was riding my dick like she was trying to win the Kentucky Derby. By the end, I was an animal searching for a place to burrow, and her pussy was my home. I fucked her until I couldn’t feel anything other than her body giving way to mine, her cum coating my tongue, her legs quivering around my waist, her nails shredding my skin. The combo kicked me over the edge more than once. My balls are so drained, it’s a shock they haven’t shriveled into raisins.

I check my notifications, hoping she’s called or texted and maybe I didn’t hear it.

There’s nothing.

And why would there be? She dipped and I doubt I’ll ever see her again.

It’s best this way. Leaning on her or using her as a distraction is an insult to the spectacular woman she is. Daelyn deserves better than me.

Be better. Clean. Wash my hair. Put on clean clothes .

“Earth to Dmitri.” Knox waves his hand in my face. “You in there?”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?”

“No.”

His expression falls. “It’s okay.” He grips my shoulder and squeezes it with sympathy in his eyes. He probably assumes I’m thinking about my dad which makes guilt flare in my gut.

“You got plans today?” he asks.

“Not really.”

“Good. You can come with me.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “We’re going noveling, loser.”