22. Knox

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Knox

I examine the product in the crate.

Between the club’s order of fresh strawberries and blueberries is a couple of pounds of coke, a crap ton of pills, and it looks like Davis splurged and got some acid tabs.

“Looks good,” I tell Butch, nodding my approval. “We can bring it in now.”

He throws me a questioning look. “It’s all here?”

I sigh, because that’s the fifth time he’s asked me. Summoning my patience, I just nod again. “Yeah. It’s here.”

“Something’s different,” he says, eyebrows scrunching as he examines me. “Are you ill?”

I snort, waving away his sarcastic concern. “Peachy. You going to bring this in, or am I?”

He stares at me for another beat before shrugging and grabbing the crate. So, I’ve been in a good mood lately. Is that a crime? It’s been a month or so since Elton and I started this whole thing between us, and it’s a miracle what constant sex does to a person. Well, that and the company isn’t too bad either.

I hang in the back alley, waiting for the truck to pack up and leave, when my phone dings. Pulling it out quickly, I laugh when I see it’s just another GIF from Elton. He’s currently trying to put his themed night together, so he appropriately sent me a picture of a cartoon dog in a burning house.

Me: You’re going to do great, sweetheart. Just fucking chill.

After a second, I get another GIF, and this one’s a popular sitcom character saying it’s all fine.

“Knox!”

I turn in the direction of the sharp voice that called out to me. Immediately, my hackles rise when I see Mike, one of Davis’s other dealers, marching up the alley toward me. I shove my phone back in my pocket, leaning against the alley wall as the patience I had disappears. “Mike. What a pleasure.”

“We need to fucking talk!” Mike shouts, loud enough to echo out of the tight space and into the busy street. “You took my job! The job I worked years for!”

Yeah, I knew he was still upset over the fact that Davis gave the job of head dealer to me instead of him. Mike’s made that evidently clear in the last couple of weeks by texting me nearly every damn day about it, asking to talk, all requests that I’ve ignored. It seems that now he’s taking matters into his own hands and accosting me at my place of work, and that’s not fucking okay.

“I didn’t take shit. I earned it,” I tell him, trying to keep my temper in check, because he’s always been a trigger-happy bastard with some serious rage issues. “Don’t be bitter because I sell circles around your ass.”

That same temper of his comes out at my words. He balls his hands into fists at his sides. “Fuck you! What? You helping the boss out some other way?”

I roll my eyes. Really ? That’s where it’s come to now? Pathetic. “Jesus, you won’t let up, will you? Fuck off, Mike. You know Davis doesn’t like trouble.”

That must have been the wrong thing to say because, in an instant, I’m slammed against the alley wall, Mike’s hands wrapped around my throat as he tries to lift me off the ground. “Trouble? This is my livelihood you’re fucking with, you little shit. Tell Davis to give me the job.”

Even in this position, I don’t dare show any weakness. Guys like Mike don’t scare me, just annoy the shit out of what was a pleasant day. I suck in as deep of a breath as I can, not letting him see me squirm. “You go tell him that, Mikey. See how it works out for you.”

He clenches his jaw, one of his hands leaving my throat as he cocks his arm back and?—

“Hey, is everything okay?”

My entire body freezes as cold dread washes over me. Mike and I both turn our heads to see Elton standing at the now open back door. His eyes dart between Mike and I, worry creasing his features as he clutches a clipboard tightly against his chest. Mike drops me immediately, taking a step back, and my instincts have me wanting to go to Elton, but I know better.

“I heard shouting,” Elton says, then takes a stupidly brave step toward us.

“Go back inside,” I hiss, my gut twisting with nerves the longer Elton’s around this lunatic.

Mike scoffs and gestures at Elton. “Who the fuck is this?”

Elton, to his credit, narrows his eyes. “Me? Who the fuck are you?”

I rear my head back in shock. I’ve never heard Elton use that tone of voice before, and I’ve known the guy since high school. He’s staring at Mike with a mixture of concern and fury, his chest heaving as his hands clench and unclench around his clipboard.

Mike glances between the two of us, figuring out how worthwhile a fight might be, but decides against it. “We’ll finish this another time.”

“Looking forward to it,” I mutter, rubbing my neck, but staying alert until Mike is all the way out of the alley. Once he is, Elton rushes toward me, dropping his clipboard as he reaches for my throat.

“Jesus. Are you okay?” he asks, fingers fluttering over what I’m sure will be a nasty bruise in a few hours. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, batting away his concern. “What’s up? Did you need me?”

Shaking his head like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, he blinks at me. “Um, yeah. The decorations just came in for Angels and Sinners Night. I could use some help setting up.” He takes a step closer and presses his forehead against mine. “You sure everything’s okay?”

While his concern is adorable and makes my heart do all sorts of stupid flips, it’s unnecessary. Despite his temper, Mike has always been all talk. Either way, Elton can’t know that his dream job is actually a very elaborate cover for what’s now known to be a lucrative drug circle in the Miami club scene. Still, I reward him for his worry because it’s cute as hell.

“For sure,” I say, kissing him quickly as I pat his ass. “Put me to work.”

“Wait.” He stops me before I can make a move to the back door. “That was about drugs, wasn’t it?”

I close my eyes and sigh. “Elton…”

“You can talk to me about these things, you know?” he insists, reaching for my hands. “It’s not like I’m going to say anything.”

My heart once again feels weird. It’s fluttering while also doing these uncomfortable spasms. I squeeze his fingers and nod. “I know. It’s just none of your concern.”

Apparently, once again, my words aren’t the right ones, because Elton rips his hands away from me with a look of rejection. “What the fuck does that mean? Friends tell each other things.”

“Not this,” I say as gently as I can, even though I’m starting to grow irritated at his insistence. “Fucking drop it.”

“You don’t get to be an asshole again just because you’re scared?—”

I snort. “Scared? Of that prick? Please.”

“Scared of letting people in.”

I chuckle darkly, not having expected to have a conversation like this right now. I’m not prepared for the onslaught of emotions that hit me, of the way his words strike me, and it makes my hackles rise. “And here I thought you were a business major.”

“I’m just trying to help.” He throws his hands in the air. “You’re so much better than this kind of stuff, Knox. Why are you wasting your life away selling drugs as a side hustle you don’t need? You’re smart and clever, and you’re wasting your potential.”

I know it’s all meant to be encouraging, but that’s one hundred percent not the way I take what he’s saying. I’ve heard it all before, except instead of focusing on the praise, my mind zeros in on one particular insult.

Waste.

“Back off,” I snarl, shoving him away. “It’s not your fucking problem what I waste my life doing! I’m just a piece of trash, then? Fuck you, Elton! Nobody asked for your goddamn help, so keep your nose where it belongs, and leave me the fuck alone!”

He gasps, his brow furrowed as a look of hurt flashes across his face. Opening and closing his mouth, he hums to himself as he lets out a choked and bitter chuckle. “You know what? Fuck this.” He shakes his head as he picks up his clipboard. “I told you I wasn’t going to be treated like shit anymore.”

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. He absolutely deserves to be called out for trying to get involved in my private business, but then why do I feel bad? The look of hurt on his face, the defeat that slumps his shoulders, it makes me cave. Without another thought, I reach for him. “Sweetheart?—”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me,” he growls, shrugging my hand off his elbow. “I’ll ask somebody else for help.”

I’m furious as he marches away, but I’m not quite sure who my anger is really directed at. On the one hand, he really does need to mind his own business, but on the other, I didn’t have to be such a dick about it.

I groan to myself, kicking at the alley wall, because I fucked up. I try not to care that he’s pissed at me, but my chest tightens at the thought that he hates me now. I… I don’t think I can have Elton hate me, but I’m having trouble trying to figure out how to deal with it.

Then I get an idea.

I follow the path he took back into the club, but instead of going to him, I make a beeline to the bar. Skylar’s busy fucking around with a ridiculous-looking pink drink, and I stop right in front of him. “You.”

He doesn’t even look up as he sprinkles something that has to be illegal into the cocktail shaker. “I have a name, Knox.”

“I need your help.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Let me just check my calendar. Oops, looks like I’m fully booked.”

“Hey, I…” I trail off. This isn’t going well. I know Skylar hates my guts, and I hate how weak I feel coming to him for his help, but I need it. So, I make the painful decision to level with him. “Fuck. Look, it’s for Elton.”

He stops mid-shake, his dual-colored eyes finally meeting mine as he raises a thick eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.”

I lean against the bar and check over my shoulder to make sure Elton isn’t nearby. “Think you can help me plan something for him?”

“A romantic something?” he asks, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s a no, then.”

“Before you go spreading rumors, we’re just friends,” I say quickly. “I acted like a dick, and I want to make it up to him. Will you help me or not?”

He nibbles on his pink-painted lips, then looks over to where Elton is putting together a string of black lanterns and sighs. “Ugh, why do I have such a tender heart? Okay, what do you need?”

And it’s with a deep breath, that I let my walls fall, my pride fade, and do something nice for a change.