Present Day—Thatch
I TURNED TO see Deacon and Graham standing there watching us. Graham looked shocked to see me there . . . but the blood and bruises could’ve had something to do with that. Deacon’s lip was curled, but it quickly fell along with the rest of his face when he whispered, “Holy shit.”
Grey was crying and mumbling something about hormones to the guy I assumed was her husband, and Knox was pulling me away from all of them.
“Knox!” One of the guys called out after I’d turned to allow him to pull me down the hall, but he didn’t stop moving until we were in a bathroom.
“What happened?” he asked, and his tone was a deadly calm . . . detached even. But not detached in the same way Collin got. Knox was trying to help me, and he couldn’t help me when all he wanted to do was kill my husband.
“He tried to kill Hadley?” I murmured as he pulled the hoodie and my wet shirt off my body. “He gave her a lethal dose of PCP, she wrecked her car into—” My words broke off when my legs finally decided they’d had enough and gave out beneath me, but Knox caught me in his arms and held me despite the pained whimper that bubbled up my throat.
He walked me back a few steps, put the toilet lid down, and sat me on it. His hands brushed over my face and down my arms, making sure I was able to support my head and upper body before he released me and started searching through the cabinets under the sink. “We’ll get into Hadley later, but I meant you. What did he do to you?”
“I have to tell you about Hadley so you’ll know why I made him snap.”
His dark eyebrows slammed down. “You didn’t cause this,” he sneered. Knox took another deep breath to continue but shut his mouth instead, and nodded for me to go on.
“Knox,” Graham said as he opened the door, and I scrambled to pull the hoodie over my mostly bare chest. Deacon was right behind him.
“Get out,” Knox growled. His eyes never left the cabinet in front of him as he searched through it.
They didn’t move. Their eyes just stayed on me—their expressions going back and forth between worried and shocked. It was so unlike anything I’d ever seen from them.
Knox was suddenly in front of me again. He pushed the hair away from my face and ground his jaw when I flinched as he gently pressed all over my head. “Is there anywhere on your head you’re not hurt?”
“It’s just three spots.” I showed him where, and tried to take steadying breaths when he began cleaning the cut on my forehead.
“Tell me what happened.” When my eyes drifted to the side, he said, “Don’t look at them. Keep your eyes on me, Low, and tell me what happened.”
“He gave Hadley PCP, and when we got home from the hospital I started questioning him. He admitted to it, kind of—in so many words.”
“What did he say?” Graham asked. His tone and expression showed he was invested in the short part of the story he’d already heard, but I didn’t trust it. After everything over the years, I couldn’t trust he would suddenly care about what happened to me.
I stared at him, waiting for it to happen—for the yelling to start—but Knox’s annoyed huff was the only sound that came from any of the guys as he continued working on me. “I’m sorry. My bathroom is too small for this, otherwise I would’ve taken you in there. Keep talking.”
I blinked slowly and looked back at him. “Um, could you hear what he said this afternoon before we left? What he couldn’t stop thinking—”
“You were with her this afternoon?” Deacon’s voice boomed in the small bathroom, making me jump.
This was it, what I’d been waiting for.
Graham smacked Deacon’s head, and Deacon stumbled over his quick words, “Shit, wait no. Sorry! Habit . . . it’s a habit. What happened this afternoon?”
“What is happening?” I whispered as I looked at the two men watching me.
“I don’t know,” Knox said; his voice showed he was just as confused. “Whatever you two are up to, now is obviously not the fucking time. Get out,” he demanded, and waited until they reluctantly left. When Knox looked back at me he said, “The eggs. Throwing up.”