4. Knox

CHAPTER FOUR

Knox

My jaw drops.

There’s no way he’s serious.

“Can you repeat that?” I ask, sitting down on the leather couch behind me as I try to make sense of his words. “You want me to do what?”

Davis chuckles to himself. Well, as much of a chuckle as a man like him can give. As the owner of XO, he’s always busy, and I’m sure his mind is constantly whirring with new ideas for how to draw more people in and make the overall guest experience better.

That is, when he’s not thinking of ways to expand his drug empire.

The word empire might be a bit of a stretch, but Davis has practically cornered the South Beach drug market. All the sellers in every major club get their supply from him. His reach even extends out of the clubs and into the rich posh crowd. After years of working for a rookie dealer while in high school, I thought I had made it to the big leagues when I graduated and Davis recruited me to work for him.

Now he’s presenting me with an opportunity I never thought I’d have.

“I want you to be the club’s main seller,” he repeats slowly, every word careful and measured so I don’t miss a thing. “Now that Britt’s gone, there’s a spot open, and I want you.”

I shake my head. “But Mike?—”

“Mike’s an asshole,” he snaps with a roll of his eyes. “He might make the most on a superficial front, but he scares people away. I need someone who people are going to want to come back for.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And you think that’s me?”

“I don’t normally believe in stereotypes but this—” he waves a hand at me “—this bad boy facade of yours? It works.”

I want to scoff, but I don’t dare insult him like that. Especially with his guard dog, Butch, standing right outside the door. It would take a second for that man to snap me like a skinny twig, and my pride isn’t too big to acknowledge that.

Being asked to be the club’s main dealer is a huge deal. Britt worked that gig for years and she made bank, living in a ritzy Miami high rise, and she barely put in the work. You get built-in hours, free booze, and you don’t have to deal with house calls and the occasional sleaze who wants to take advantage of the fact that you’re on their home turf.

I wouldn’t say that becoming a dealer was my life’s ultimate goal, but it’s a good life. I get to live on my own, buy whatever I want, and not have to worry about money. I can be fully independent and not have to rely on my asshole parents for everything. The same assholes who want me to be exactly what they want and who have made me the black sheep of the family because my choices don’t align with theirs.

“Deal,” I say, not stupid enough to question it further. “When do we start?”

He seems as pleased as he can be by my response. “How about tonight? Butch will get you what you need and all you have to do is hang around, have a few drinks, and blend in. To start, you might have to approach a few people until they recognize that you’re the one to go to now.”

I nod. Sounds easy enough. “Sweet. Thank you, Davis. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will,” he says. But just because he feels the need to, his eyes flick toward the closed door. “I’m sure you’ll do everything in your power to be successful.”

I don’t miss the vague threat. Let him down and I’ll have Butch to deal with. Succeed and I’m set for life.

I won’t let his words fluster me, though. I know better than to show any weakness to a man like him. Instead, I give him a nod and head toward the door, facing the impenetrable wall of Butch when I open it. He looks over his shoulder and juts his chin out. “You done with the boss?”

“Yeah, big guy,” I mumble, moving around him. “He’s all yours.”

He narrows his eyes and scowls. “I don’t like you.”

I snort. “Join the club.”

“But if Davis thinks you’re right for the job, I’ll respect that.” Squaring his shoulders, he holds his chin high in the air and glares at me. “Don’t cause him any trouble.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as I sidestep him. “Have an awesome day.”

He lets me go with a grumble, and I find myself instantly annoyed. As I descend the stairs, I pull my phone out of my pocket to check for any text messages. Just like I expected, Everest hasn’t messaged me back. I don’t want to be a clingy fucker and double text him, so I just growl as I shove my phone back into my pocket. You’d think that Rhys would stop hogging him so he could be his own goddamn person, but that man is insanely possessive. If he could pee on Everest to claim his territory, I’m sure he would.

I’m so distracted thinking about the ways I could trick Everest away from Rhys, that I don’t even realize I’m about to run into someone until it’s too late. I slam against a hard shoulder, cursing at the bite of pain, and whip my head up. “Watch where you’re fucking going.”

“Knox?”

Trying to summon up some patience, I close my eyes and take a breath. Elton? Again? I open narrowed eyes at him, taking in his neatly pressed suit and the manila folder in his hands. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” he asks, waving at himself.

“Like you’re going door-to-door to sell encyclopedias?”

“I’m here for a job interview,” he says, acting like it’s obvious. “Well, an internship. It’s required by my master’s program. It’s my last semester before I graduate, so Rhys set up a meeting. I’m actually kind of nervous because Davis seems like a tough guy to impress and?—”

I tune out his uninteresting and unwanted story as he starts to ramble. Does the guy ever shut up? Instead, my mind focuses on the way he looks in a suit. He fills it out nicely—thick arms, firm chest, tight waistline—and I bet if he were to turn around that juicy ass would look insanely fit. His dick must be magic because now every time I see him, I grow all hot and tense.

I try not to let my attraction to him show as I cut him off. “How exciting,” I remark sarcastically, gesturing for him to move aside. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?—”

“What are you doing here?” he questions. Not moving, that perky smile takes over his face as he tries to make polite conversation.

I sigh. “I also work here now.”

“Really?” His eyebrows raise in incredulity. “What do you do?”

“Vendor relations,” I respond smoothly. I’m not dumb enough to announce that I still deal, even though if Elton was smart enough, he would have guessed that by now.

He nods, worrying his cheek as he fidgets with the manila folder. “So?”

“So?”

“Aren’t you going to wish me luck?”

“Why would I do that?”

He chuckles. “Seriously, man? Are we going to have this conversation again? It’s something a good person would say.”

That takes me aback. I don’t know why that comment registers with me so much or hits my core. It’s not because I’m suddenly overcome with the guilt of being an asshole… Okay, maybe a little bit. It’s like I’ve been hit in the face with the reality of what everyone thinks of me.

Just an asshole. A dick. A dealer who has little regard for anyone else.

I clench my jaw and grind my teeth, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

Fine, if I’m the villain, so be it.

“Try not to choke,” I say without a flicker of emotion, not-so-purposefully shoulder checking him as I pass.

“So pleasant,” I hear him sigh behind me. “We’ll work on that.”

And for a split second, I think it’s adorable that he believes that’s even a possibility.