Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Knox

I’ve been bracing myself the entire drive over?—

But I never could have predicted that I would walk into this.

Ivy laughing.

Riggs exhales from beside me, whispers reverently, “My cherié .” And as though Ella hears him, her head comes up and expression is so beautiful, it’s almost painful.

She sets her mug on the island, glances at Nova.

But Nova’s already sensed that we’re here—or that Lake is, anyway. She puts her mug down too, leans close to Ivy, and says something I can’t hear.

Ivy nods, her back going stiff, and after an extended moment, she sets her own cup down and rotates to face us.

Bracing.

Putting those shields back into place.

Hiding.

Well, I’m not going away this time, not going to be a fucking chicken shit again and let her push me away. Not after the way we danced around each other the last week, not after the stolen moments together the week before that mean everything, not after her gaze barely left me all night, not after?—

Fucking Hiller.

Luckily, I brought my shield buster.

“Woof!”

I set Winter onto the floor, and the way the pup is able to navigate with the cast is commendable, the same as she somehow knows to go straight to Ivy.

“Call us if you need anything,” Lake says.

I nod and then follow them as they finish their goodbyes, gather up their belongings, and slip out the front door. I flick the lock behind them then go back into the kitchen.

Ivy’s sitting on the floor Winter in her lap, Snowball curled up at her side.

Right.

This isn’t going to work.

I cross over to her, bend down, and scoop her, Winter, and Snowball up.

“What—?”

But I don’t stop, just straighten and carry the trio down the hall, and settle them gently on the bed.

Winter’s nonplussed, just happy to be close to Snowball and Ivy. The cat, on the other hand, glares at me for daring to change her position, though she tolerates the apologetic scratch I give her beneath her chin.

I get another glare, though, when I toe off my shoes and climb in behind them.

And it’s not from Snowball.

“I don’t know why everyone’s making a big deal,” Ivy says. “I’m fine. I just need a good night’s sleep and I’ll be good to go in the morning.”

“I might believe that if you weren’t still shaking.”

She inhales sharply. “I’m?—”

My temper begins to fray. “If you say you’re fine , swear to fuck I’ll…” I trail off because I don’t have a suitable threat.

And she knows it.

“You’ll what?” she prods.

I sigh, draw her a little more firmly against my chest. “Sic Winter”—I get a tail wag—”and all her kissing abilities on you.”

Silence.

Long enough that the worry inside me begins to spread out again, begins to eat away at me, but then she laughs softly. “What if I like her kissing skills?”

“More than you like mine?”

“I—” She falls quiet and the moment stretches between us, taut and filled with far too many things that have been left unsaid.

“Sorry,” I say, letting her off the hook. “This is not the time.”

She exhales quietly. “I didn’t handle the other day well. You’re right to be pissed.”

“I’m not pissed, lioness. Not at you, anyway,” I add when she snorts.

“At Hiller?”

Like that’s even a question.

“He hurt you, baby. He put his hands on you and scared you—” I pause, trying to decide if I’m going to push this. Then deciding that I have to. “And you made it seem like he’s done it before.”

She’s still as a fucking statue for long enough that words bubble up in the back of my throat and I have to swallow them down.

“He made it clear that he’d welcome anything I would give him—willingly or not.”

I clench my teeth together so tightly that a bolt of pain slices through my jaw. Christ. More dental work in my future. But I’m only thinking that, clinging to that tiny moment of levity so I don’t get out of bed and punch something. “Did he hurt you before?”

“No,” she whispers. “He just tried to break me down so I’d give in.”

Rage in my belly. More pain through my jaw. “What does that mean?”

“You don’t want to hear this.”

“What does that mean?” I ask again, more firmly this time.

She groans softly. “Knox?—”

“You might as well face it, lioness,” I tell her. “I’m not leaving. Not now. Not tomorrow.” Not ever, though I don’t say the last out loud, not as the tension in her frame ratchets up with each word I speak.

“I—”

“Tell me,” I order quietly.

A long-suffering sigh. “It means he would corner me in his office and threaten my job. It means that he’d proposition me and get handsy any time I was dumb enough to be alone with him. It means that he told me if blew him he’d give me a raise.”

I clamp my eyes closed, clench my jaw through that bolt of pain. “Anything else?”

Her throat works. “That’s pretty much it.”

Pretty much. Jesus Christ.

“Tell me the rest.”

“Knox—”

“ Lioness .”

“I went to HR once and he found out. Next time I showed up for a meeting, he passed me a folded piece of paper. It was my resignation letter.” Her voice wobbles. “Said if I ever threw him under the bus again like that, I wouldn’t have a job, would never work in the league again.” She clears her throat and I watch her somehow piece herself together. “I didn’t have enough private clients then. Things are different now. When Damon lets me go, I’ll be ok?—”

“What the fuck?” I catch her chin. “There is absolutely no fucking way that Damon would let you go for this?—”

“HR—”

“Fuck HR. This happened at a company event, was witnessed by multiple players, and caught on camera—” She jerks, but I keep going. I have to make her understand. “There’s a police report and we all saw those bruises on your body, baby.”

“Oh God,” she whispers.

“This isn’t an email that is going to be hidden by bureaucracy. This is a major fuck up, and if anyone isn’t going to work in the league again, it’s going to be Hiller.”

“You can’t know that?—”

I slip Winter from her arms, nudge Snowball from her lap. Then I carefully turn her to face me. Her expression is stricken, her skin pale, those fucking bruises standing out in sharp relief. “We all know it wasn’t your fault,” I say, cupping her cheeks. “And I know that Damon is going to do right by you, lioness.”

“How?”

“His sister was raped, baby,” I say gently. “Back when he was playing. It was big news because he found out, lost his shit, and beat the asshole to a pulp. The prison sentence for assault voided his contract.”

“Oh, my God.”

“He didn’t play after that. But eventually he found a job in the back office and now?—”

She swallows hard. “He’s the GM.”

I nod. “He can be an asshole and difficult to work with…but there’s one thing that he won’t ever tolerate.”

I see it then.

Finally.

The relief creeping into her pretty brown eyes. “Coach Joey and him were talking when I left,” I say. “I have no doubt that she’ll be taking over and Hiller is gone.”

Her chin drops to her chest, and she exhales. “Maybe I should be sad about him losing his job?—”

“No, you shouldn’t,” I growl.

Her head pops up.

“No,” I say again, more firmly.

The corners of her mouth soften, as though she’s almost smiling. Then any hint of amusement is gone. “Knox”—she sighs and settles her hand on my chest, just above my heart—“about last week. I’m?—”

I press a finger to her lips. “Don’t worry about last week. We’re here now and?—”

“No,” she says, peeling my finger free. “I need to explain. I—” Her eyes slam closed. “Evie asked if you were going to be her dad?—”

I choke.

Those lids peel back, and the amusement returns in the form of a small smile. “Yeah,” she says. “ Exactly .”

“Baby, that’s not what I meant.”

Her brows flick up. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re a package deal and Evie is great.” I just…well, I just accepted my feelings, just found the courage to put the bullshit in my head aside.

I hadn’t gotten as far as Dad.

As though she can hear that thought, her lips twitch. “We are. But she asked and I made up some excuse to put her off and then when you showed up that day I’d convinced myself it couldn’t work.” I open my mouth and she waves a hand, continuing, “But you were in front of me and…I was feeling all of that—well, I was feeling all the stuff between us—the need, the desire, the way I’m always so aware of you, and…I panicked. I knew this couldn’t end well. God, if I know anything about you, it’s that you have no plans of settling down?—”

“Had,” I correct quietly.

A long, slow blink. “What?”

“I had no plans of settling down.”