36. Knox

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Knox

It’s the knock on the door that startles me.

Having been caught by the masked killer, the woman in the background screams, just as a second knock is delivered to my door. I groan, pause my movie, and get up to answer it. I have no idea who it could be, since the only person who ever comes to visit me is currently sailing off the coast of Sicily with his family.

I yank the door open gruffly, annoyed that I’ve been interrupted, and I can’t mask my surprise at who’s on the other side. “Archibald?”

My oldest brother, dressed immaculately in his pristine suit, looking entirely apathetic, nods at me. “Lennox.” He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “What on earth are you wearing?”

My cheeks heat at the bright pink flamingo-covered Christmas onesie. It showed up at my door the day Elton left for his trip with very specific instructions to wear it on Christmas Day. I would have just ignored Elton’s note had he not included that, if I wore it all day and sent him a picture, we’d finally try out the Cock Dock Fuckhole when he came back.

I could have taken it off but, damn, it’s comfortable.

“What are you even doing here?” I ask, tempted to close the door on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the holiday luncheon with our parents and those two weird fucks?”

“The twins?”

“I meant what I said.”

“May I come in?” he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he’s annoyed and trying not to show it. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

The petty part of me wants to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone. I haven’t had any interaction with any member of my family since that disastrous dinner, and I want to keep it that way. But having Archibald here, my curiosity wins out.

I let him in, watching as he analyzes my apartment with the utmost scrutiny. There’s not much to see, since I keep it sparsely decorated outside of my room, but he still scowls as if he’s disappointed.

He takes a seat on the lounge chair in front of the couch, crossing one leg over the other as he pulls a small envelope from his pocket. “Here.”

I take the envelope. “What’s this?”

“A Christmas present.”

Seriously? What dimension did I wake up in? Still, I open the envelope and find nearly a thousand dollars in cash. “How sweet.”

“It was either that or some custom cufflinks,” he says, picking at his nails. “But I don’t think they’d care to memorialize the words ‘Fuck You’ at Armani.”

This gets a dry chuckle from me as I sit on the couch. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“You never do, but that’s not the point.”

“So what is?”

It’s just then that my phone dings with a notification, and I can’t snatch it away in time for Archibald not to see it. He smiles at my screensaver, which is that dorky picture I took of Elton feeding the baby flamingo, and looks back up at me. “I had a feeling he was more than just a friend.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” I say rather defensively, daring him to have a problem with it, just so I have an excuse to kick him out. “He has a thing for flamingos.”

He laughs, gesturing at my onesie. “I can tell.”

“Seriously, I’m confused. What are you doing here, Archibald?”

His smile drops as he leans back into his seat, a frown creasing his lips while he sighs. “I found that I was rather…upset after our latest exchange.”

I snort. “You mean the dinner where Elton put all of you in your place.”

“While highly entertaining, it did bring to light some unpleasantries about how the family has treated you, Lennox.”

I grit my teeth. “It’s Knox .”

“No, it’s Lennox,” he says matter-of-factly. “Either way, I’d like to apologize for our family’s behavior that night.”

I raise a skeptical eyebrow at that. “Did Mother put you up to this?”

“No,” he says with a shake of his head and a hand to his heart. “Our parents have decided that you no longer exist. I’m sure Father would have ripped away the trust fund had you not already had access to it.”

I already knew that my parents couldn’t have been pleased with Elton’s display, and I haven’t been to Sunday dinner since, but I hadn’t realized that they were permanently done with me. I will admit that a part of me is upset, the stupid part that thought maybe they could love me one day, but I shake that away. I don’t need them anymore—I’ve never needed them—and it’s just going to stay that way. I’ve done fine on my own, even have a boyfriend, and make good money.

Fuck them.

“I don’t need their money,” I spit, crossing my arms over my chest, only able to look so intimidating covered in flamingos. “They can keep it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be stupid and let your pride get the best of you. While our parents have decided to cut ties, I would like us to remain close.”

Remain close? I snort at that. Archibald and I have never been anything remotely resembling close. He’s ten years older than me, kind of a pretentious prick, and I don’t have any fond childhood memories of us hanging out. By the time I was eight, he was already off to college, leaving me alone with the teen twin terrors.

“What’s the catch?” I ask, inclined to disbelief. “What do you get out of this?”

“A relationship with my youngest brother.”

“Pass.”

To this, he chuckles. “You were always so stubborn, Lennox. Do you not realize how much worse things could have been growing up if you hadn’t had me?”

I cock my head at that. “Excuse me?”

“I was the one who found the kindest housekeeper possible for you, I was the one who told the twins to take it easy on you?—”

“ Take it easy on me ?”

“—and I was the one that convinced Father not to kick you out.”

My breath hitches. “He wanted to what?”

“I always suspected it was just a moment of weakness,” he says, curling his lips in disgust. “Father is a weak man. When he finally realized that you weren’t like us, he was ready to toss you to the curb. I convinced him not to.”

I shake my head, bothered but not surprised by this new information. “If you were such a saint, why didn’t you… I don’t know? Hang out with me? Talk to me?”

He snorts. “And fall into our parents’ bad graces? Life is a game, Lennox. Sometimes you have to think .”

While I don’t appreciate the condescension, I let it slide. “So, now you want to be best friends?”

“I would like us to spend time together, yes.” Clearing his throat, he fusses with his tie as a look of discomfort washes over him. “I find myself feeling…downcast, as of late. I’d like to have a relationship with the one person in my family who’s not selfishly pursuing their own agenda.”

This is so fucking weird. Archibald? Downcast ? I didn’t even think he felt enough to be sad, if that’s what he’s saying he feels. Again, I war with myself. Personally, I don’t think he deserves any slack, but if he’s done all the things he says he has, then I’d be a dick to reject him.

But…I also understand the feeling of wanting more than our family. I can relate to having felt lost up until recently. I think to myself what my boyfriend would do in this situation. Elton showed me that I was worthy of more than just apathy and snark, and I feel like it’s my turn to pass that on. He’d want me to give Archibald a chance to be the brother he claims he wants to be.

“What would that look like?”

Hope brightens Archibald’s gray eyes that, unlike mine, are clear and near haunting. “Weekly dinners. Just you and me. Or, you could also bring Elton along. I just want to be kept up to date with your life. Perhaps…” He clears his throat again, looking down at his nails. “Perhaps, this time next year, we can spend Christmas together.”

“It’s fucking weird, but okay,” I relent, squirming in my seat. “We don’t have to hug, do we?”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Cool,” I mumble, not sure where to go with this conversation. “How’s Gabriela?”

It’s only a split second, but Archibald’s face hardens. He coughs to cover it up, standing abruptly. “She’s fine. Now, I’ll see you next Friday at eight? Pick a restaurant, and I’ll meet you there.”

Nodding, I stand as well. “Sounds like a plan.”

“And bring Elton,” he says. “I’d like to get to know the two of you as a couple.”

While I find that a bit odd, I don’t comment on it. I walk him to the door, awkward as we stand there, not knowing what to do. Two touch-starved, emotionless robots our parents raised us to be.

Finally, I’m the one who makes the first move. It’s not really a hug, but close enough. Swinging my arm around his back, I tap his arm and squeeze before letting go. I shuffle on my feet, fidgeting with the zipper of my onesie, and try my hardest to not smile like a serial killer. “I’ll see you then.”

Archibald smiles back, but while I look like a serial killer, he looks like he’s constipated. It’s a bit ridiculous, if you think about it, but a pleasant thought hits me.

We’ll have time to work on that.