Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)

“Are you okay?” I asked Stef. He was staring at Jeremiah and looking downright miserable.

“I’m great.” He got up, looking anything but great, and refilled his whiskey from one of the decanters on the shelf.

“Psst!”

I looked up.

Waylay nodded in Stef’s direction. “What’s his problem?” she mouthed.

I shrugged and made a face.

Jeremiah spun Lina’s chair around to face him. “Listen up, you fierce, beautiful badass. I don’t think you’re nervous about getting married. I think you’re nervous about the wedding.”

“Is there a difference?” Lina asked dryly.

“I’ve seen you with Nash. You’re excited about being married. About starting your lives together. Don’t let wedding day jitters make you doubt that.”

Lina opened her mouth, then shut it again. “Huh,” she said.

Naomi tiptoed her chair around to face the bride. “He’s right. Not everyone is excited about being a bride, the center of attention all day. But I know you. And I know you’re thrilled to be a wife.”

Lina’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, thank God. I thought there was something wrong with me.”

“No, but there’s something wrong with me,” Stef said, knocking back the fresh whiskey and slamming the glass down.

Fi took the lollipop out of her mouth. “Uh, what’s happening here?”

Waylon dropped his chew bone and tip-tapped over to Stef’s feet.

Stef marched over to Jeremiah. “Your apartment is gross,” he announced.

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.

“It really is,” Fi agreed. “Who disassembles a motorcycle in their living room?”

“Okay,” Jeremiah said cautiously.

“It’s gross, and there isn’t enough closet space. But I think we should move in together,” Stef blurted out.

“Oh, shit,” Fi whispered, grabbing Waylay in a headlock hug.

“I know we haven’t talked about the future, and I know that it’s probably stupid crazy of me to move here, but you’re here,” he said, looking at Jeremiah. He turned to Naomi. “And you’re here. You’re all here. I have family here, and the more I think about it, the crazier it would be to stay away.”

Jeremiah tipped his head down and studied the toes of his boots.

Lina and I shared a wide-eyed look.

“Guess you won’t be selling your half of the business after all,” Knox said to his partner.

All heads whipped back to Jeremiah, who was grinning now. “Guess not.”

“You were going to sell?” Stef repeated. “Why in the hell would you do that? You love this place.”

“I love you more.” Jeremiah said it simply, without fuss.

The words had tears prickling at the backs of my eyes.

“This is why communication is fucking important,” Knox said, crossing his muscly arms.

“Seriously?” Lina said with a smirk. “You of all people.”

“Fuck off. I’ve evolved and shit,” Knox said.

Vernon pulled the hot towel off of his eyes. “What the hell is goin’ on here? This mustache ain’t gonna shape itself.”

Naomi beamed at her husband. Waylay rolled her eyes.

“Hang on,” Stef said, waving his hands. “I had a lot of whiskey in a very short period of time. Are you saying you’re okay with us moving in together even if I make you move out of your apartment that smells like diesel fumes?”

Jeremiah began to approach slowly. “I’m saying let’s buy a house or a farm or an estate or whatever you want.”

Stef was nodding and swallowing. “Yeah. Okay. That sounds…fine.”

Jeremiah took Stef’s hands. “I’m saying let’s be a family…with our families.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed and pulled out my phone to record the moment.

“What are you saying, Jer?” Stef demanded.

“I’m saying, let’s move in. Let’s get married. Let’s do the whole damn thing. I’ve been waiting a long damn time for you. Let’s get started already.”

Naomi brought her hands to her cheeks.

“Don’t you dare start cryin’, Daze,” Knox ordered gruffly. He abandoned Vernon and crossed to his wife.

“Oh brother. Now they’re gonna make out,” Waylay predicted, returning her focus to the software update with an exaggerated eye roll. “I’m chargin’ extra for this.”

“Yes,” Stef said, sounding dazed. “Yes, to all those things.”

Naomi let out a loud sniffle. Knox swore.

Fi bolted out of her chair, and her lollipop went flying. “My baby brother is getting married and moving out of that poor excuse for an apartment!”

Waylon sauntered over and slurped up the discarded candy.

“Drop it, Way,” Knox barked.

“He means you,” Waylay said to the dog without looking away from the monitor.

“Bust out the champagne,” Vernon decreed, offering up aftershave-scented high fives.

I got in line to offer my congratulations. “We’re all going to raise our families together,” Naomi said with a trembling voice.

“Do not make me cry, Witty. I’m a puffy crier, and I have to look stunning tonight,” Lina groused.

Family. Just a few short months ago, I’d realized it was what I wanted more than anything. Now, thanks to Lucian and these women, there would be new life in my home. More parties. More holidays. More love. More laughter.

I felt the pang. My dad would have loved this. He would have been over the moon, planning engagement parties, writing funny toasts, practicing our father-daughter dance. I missed him so much it hurt to breathe.

I love you, Dad, I said silently. Thank you for everything.

As if reading my mind, Naomi squeezed my wrist. The one a monster had broken all those years ago. That monster’s son had managed to put his own broken pieces together again and heal my broken heart in the process.

“We’re getting married,” Stef yelled, holding up Jeremiah’s hand.

We converged on the happy couple. Even Knox and Waylay got in on the hugging.



My phone rang as I drove home with great hair and a full heart.

“You are not going to believe what happened today, big guy,” I announced when I answered the call.

“As it turns out, I have news for you too,” Lucian’s buttery smooth voice said through the Jeep speakers. “You go first.”

“Stef asked Jeremiah to move in with him, and Jeremiah asked him to marry him!”

“That escalated quickly,” he quipped.

“I can’t wait for their wedding. Queer weddings are the best,” I said happily as I turned onto my street. “Now, tell me your news. Is it good or bad?”

“It’s very good news. I just got out of a briefing with Special Agent Idler. It appears that Hugo’s shell corporation was bribing officials to assign prisoners to his private prisons. They’ve only just begun quietly digging, and it looks as though several judges, district attorneys, even some local law enforcement were also on the receiving end of some highly illegal kickbacks. The higher the sentence, the bigger the kickback.”

“Wow,” I said.

“The preliminary list includes the Not So Honorable Judge Dirk Atkins.”

“As in the Dirk Atkins who refused to reconsider Mary Louise’s sentence?”

“One and the same,” Lucian said smugly. “Idler promised me she’d personally look into Mary Louise’s case. There’s a very good chance that an investigation will result in many of his sentences being overturned.”

“Overturned?” I squeaked. “As in get out of jail overturned?”

“It will take some time, but I’ll do what I can to speed things along. We should have her out before Allen’s graduation,” Lucian continued.

My response was a choked sob.

“Sloane.” Lucian’s voice was an affectionate rasp over my name.

“I’m so happy,” I whispered through tears.

“Yes, I can tell,” he said dryly.

“God, I love you.”

“Get ready to really mean it, because I arranged for you and Fran to call Mary Louise to tell her the good news in five minutes.”

“Geez Louise, Lucian,” I said, whipping into my driveway. “I’m running out of room on the blow-jobs-when-the-doctor-clears-you tally sheet.”

“I’m confident you’ll make room,” he said. “Now go call Mary Louise.”