“We played football with Mason. They should have given you the death sentence for killing him.”
“Nope. Just eight years,” Knox returned, his bland voice in direction opposition to the tension radiating from him. He touched her arm and pulled her behind him.
“You with him?” one of the guys called out to her, his gaze direct and piercing. “You know he’s a murderer?”
Knox squeezed her arm, advising her to say nothing.
“We don’t want any trouble. We’re just leaving,” Knox said, sounding so very un--Knoxlike. Usually he’d be kicking ass by now.
“What the hell world we living in when a man like you can walk the streets free?”
Knox turned then, keeping her in front of him and guiding her toward the truck. She wasn’t about to argue with him about walking home anymore. She just wanted to get away from these men with violence in their eyes.
Then Knox’s hand was wrenched off her arm. He went down with a grunt. She spun around, watching in horror as two of them men started beating him.
“Knox!” she screamed, lunging forward, but the other man caught her up and held her back, one arm locked around her waist.
The two continued to beat on him, but he did nothing. Simply took it. He made it back up to his feet, and they let him, panting and grinning, enjoying every moment of it.
“What are you doing? Knox, fight!” she pleaded. His gaze found hers, and what she saw there was like a knife in her heart. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t fight because of her. He was showing her he could restrain himself even under provocation.
“That’s right!” One man punched Knox in the face and sent his entire body spinning. He collided with a parked car and clung to it to keep from falling. “Fight back, you bastard.”
But he didn’t. He wouldn’t lift a finger.
“Knox,” she whimpered. She felt like she was dying, unable to catch her breath.
A man stepped out of the coffeehouse and shouted in their direction. “Hey! I’m calling the cops!”
“Hear that?” she shouted. “The cops are coming! You better go!”
The man holding her laughed. “We’ll probably get a medal.” They kept pounding on him. Over her screams.
“He won’t fight you! Just stop! Stop it!” Briar shouted at them.
“Prison turned you into a *,” one of the guys said, and spat in Knox’s bleeding face. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Just then a police cruiser turned the corner and whipped into the parking lot with a brief blare of its siren. The two men hitting him stood back. Knox dropped to his knees, then to his side, dead weight, as the two officers hopped out of the vehicle, taser guns at the ready.
The man holding her released her and she rushed to Knox’s side, tears streaming hotly down her face. She ignored the policemen and three guys, her only thought for Knox. She wrapped an arm around him and gingerly touched the eye already swelling shut. “Why? Why did you let them do this to you?”
He looked out at her with his one good eye. “I told you. You make me stronger.”
She shook her head, bewildered. “You make no sense. They hurt you.” She was sobbing now.
An officer approached them. “Ma’am, are you all right?”
She turned on him, wiping at her tears. “Yes. These men attacked my boyfriend.”
“I’m a felon,” Knox admitted, wincing as he spoke. “They took exception to the fact that I was granted parole.”
The officer nodded, eyeing Knox up and down, not missing the fact that he had been beaten within an inch of his life. Behind him, his partner had the three men face down on the asphalt with their hands behind their heads. “I’ll call an ambulance to—-“
“That’s not necessary—-” Knox started to say.
“It’s necessary,” Briar cut in.
The policeman was moving away, already speaking into his radio.
“They’re going to look you over. What they did to you needs to be documented.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” He attempted a smile and winced at the effort.
Her cheeks warmed.
“I like that,” he murmured.
She took the edge of her shirt and rose on her knees to gingerly wipe his face. “You should have defended yourself.” Tears threatened again, making her voice crack.
“Sssh.” He stroked her face, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “This is nothing. I’ll heal. But if I fought them and got in trouble, got my parole revoked . . . then I go back. I lose you.” His voice choked up a little then. “I would never heal from that. I can’t lose you, Briar.”
She threw both arms around him, mindful not to squeeze him too tightly, convinced that he was the strongest man she had even known. “You’re not going to lose me. You won’t,” she vowed, pressing her lips to wherever she touched skin. His neck, cheeks, lips. “You’re never going to lose me, Knox. I love you.”
He grinned against her lips. “Told you so.”