She slapped me. Hard. Right across the cheek.
My mother wasn’t the warmest, most loving parent in the world, but she’d never slapped me before. It shocked me into shutting up.
I gaped at her as she pointed a threatening finger at my nose. “I don’t know where that brat got its red hair, but it wasn’t from any son of mine. Do you understand?”
I blinked, feeling like a coward, because I wanted to call her out and I knew I wouldn’t. But she knew—had probably always known—that baby belonged to Garrett.
How could she just stand there and deny her own blood?
“Felicity,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. “Do. You. Understand?”
I dropped my gaze and nodded. Of course, I understood, and I hated what I suddenly knew.
“Good.” She grabbed my arm once more, her grip still too hard. “We’ll never speak of this again.”
She dragged me to the car, and I couldn’t help but to glance back one last time. When I did, Knox was beginning to glance back too.
We both whirled away as soon as we made eye contact, but the zing of knowing he’d wanted another look at me too followed me through the rest of the day.
I found myself loitering at the beginning of the woods close to my house every afternoon, religiously. I wandered aimlessly around the property line, keeping myself occupied with a small survival kit I toted along with me. And at dusk, I slumped home, disappointed.
Three days later, I hit pay dirt when I saw a form slipping stealthily through the trees toward me.
My heart leapt into my throat.
He’d come back.
He didn’t see me, so I slunk behind a tree and slipped in behind him as soon as he passed. Exhilarated by his nearness, I bit my lip to contain my grin, but it escaped anyway. Right before he left the canopy of the woods and could step into the clearing that started our lawn, I cleared my throat.
Startled, he spun around and crouched, lifting his hands in a defensive manner. One fist was full with a rank, used diaper.
His ninja stance looked ridiculous with that clutched in his death grip. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I blurted out a laugh. “I swear, if you use that diaper against me, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Holy shit, Felicity.” Shoulders falling, he dropped his hands—and that diaper—down to his side. Then he straightened to his full height. “You scared the fuck out of me.”
I continued to grin. “Yeah, well, I think you would’ve been more scared this evening if the sheriff showed up on your front porch, because he set up a spy cam in Garrett’s room. Next time you step foot in there, with one of those—” I tipped my chin toward the diaper, “you’ll be caught on camera.”
He breathed a curse under his breath and immediately let the diaper fall to the ground by his feet. After a wrinkle of his brows, though, he sent me a suspicious frown. “Are you playing me right now? Did they really set up a spy cam?”
I scowled back and set my hands on my hips. “Feel free to go inside and find out for yourself if I’m lying.”
Knox studied me a second longer. Then he blew out a breath and ran his hands through his hair. After glancing longingly toward my house, as if the urge to vandalize Garrett’s bed was more than he could take, he turned back to me. “Why do you keep helping me, saving me from getting caught?”
The question caught me off guard.
“Be-because...” I shrugged and glanced away. I couldn’t tell him it was because he was pretty; that was a stupid reason. Except it kind of was the reason.
God, I was such an idiot.
“I need to show you something,” I blurted instead as I ripped my Kindle from the book bag I had strapped over my shoulder, where I’d housed snacks and drinks and stories to help me pass the time while I’d been playing stakeout and waiting for him to show.