My voice was soft when I continued, afraid of repeating what had happened too loudly. “He wasn’t my monster, Knox. He was different. I knew . . . I knew the second I realized I’d said it out loud that he was going to kill me. He came after me and I ran. He slammed my head into the wall”—Knox’s hand paused from where it was still cleaning the wound on my forehead, and a muscle in his jaw ticked—“he threw me down, and he sat on me and started choking me. He dragged me into the guest bathroom and dropped me into the tub right after he turned on the water. He held me down as it filled, and it was like he was dead the entire time he watched what he was doing. When the water started covering my face, he told me how he would explain my suicide to people. Then he released me and I tried to get out, but he slammed my head onto the side of the tub. I woke up later choking on water.”
“Oh my God,” one of the guys whispered in horror, and I turned my head quickly to find them both standing in the doorway again.
“Jesus Christ,” Deacon said. “We need to call the cops. We need to do something. Holy shit! Where’s my phone?”
“No!” I yelled, and tried to stand. Knox didn’t stop me, but he also didn’t move, so I wasn’t able to make it far. I reached out even though I could not have stopped Deacon from dialing from where I was. “No! Please don’t! He has dirty cops working for him; please don’t! If you do, he’ll get me, and then he will finish killing me. He’ll kill my sister, the rest of my family. Please don’t!” I was yelling again by the time I finished, and both guys were staring at me like they didn’t know what to do with me. “He’s going to come after me because I left, and I’m already worried that he might know about Knox—and Collin will kill him if he does—but if you call the cops . . . then there’s no chance of us ever getting away.”
“This needs to be stop—” Graham began, but Knox cut him off.
“Guys,” he said with a sharp tone. “Leave, and please trust me when I say Harlow knows what she’s talking about. Calling the cops is the last thing we want to do.” Knox didn’t wait to see if his friends left, which, after more worried looks, they did; he just went back to finishing up the cut on my forehead. “Grey brought you here,” he said as he placed butterfly bandages on the cut.
It hadn’t been a question, but I quickly explained all about finding Max, and then Grey. Despite everything, Knox smiled a few times, and even laughed at Max’s attempts to parent me.
“That could’ve been dangerous, Low. You didn’t know him, what kind of person he was . . .”
“It was all I had. I called you, but you didn’t answer.”
Knox’s brow furrowed as he thought, and then relaxed. “My phone is in the living room. I wouldn’t go back in there once Graham came home. I only came out because I heard the guys yelling for Grey, and knew she’d just left for work only an hour before. I thought maybe she was going into labor early, or something.”
I nodded, and even though his fingers were moving gently as he began removing the rest of my clothes—as if he was afraid to touch me—my breathing deepened as I remembered his touches from earlier.
“I want to kill him,” Knox admitted; his eyes were on his hands as he helped me out of my wet jeans.
That had been the first time he’d said want.
“You can’t,” I said again.
“I know,” he whispered, then finally looked into my eyes. “I vowed I would never waste another moment with you, and I still have—too many to count. I’ve let you get hurt too many times since then, and I le—” His voice broke, and he stopped talking for a few seconds. After he cleared his throat, he continued: “I let tonight happen.”
“No.”
“If I’d stayed—”
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “You didn’t know . . . I didn’t know!”
His dark eyes dropped again. “You did,” he argued gently.
“Not tonight. I didn’t think it would happen tonight.”
“Regardless . . . if I killed him, I would lose too many moments with you, maybe the rest of them. And I’m not willing to do that.” He kept his gaze away from me as silence filled the bathroom, then finally asked, “Why isn’t this scaring you?”
“What?”
“Our conversation.”
“Why would—”
“Because I mean every word,” Knox said darkly.
Meaning if he could do it and not go to prison, he would kill Collin. When the weight of his words settled over me, all I could do was nod. Finally, I admitted, “I’m more scared of losing you than your darkest thoughts. Besides, they aren’t far off from my own. I’ve spent years thinking of what I would do to him if I knew I could get away with it—granted, I never thought of . . . I don’t think I could . . .” I drifted off, unable to say the words myself.
“I know,” Knox murmured, and placed his hand over my cheek as he had so many times. The touch was comforting and relaxed my tense and aching body. “I need to rinse your hair. You have a lot of blood in it, and more on your neck and shoulders. I can either have you bend over the sink, or stand in the shower, but I think the sink would be hard with how much you’re already hurting.”
I glanced over to it. “Probably.”
He moved my face back so I was watching him. “He tried to drown you, so I’m not letting you get in that shower alone in case anything happens—you break down, freak out . . . anything. All I’m going to do is rinse the blood off, okay?”
“Okay,” I answered as he turned on the water, but with my confusion, it sounded like a question. It wasn’t until he reached behind me to unclasp my bra, then gently gripped the top of my underwear to push them down, that I realized why he was trying to get me to understand all that would be happening in the shower.
I watched as he removed his clothes, and had to resist the urge to touch him. I knew I couldn’t handle it right now anyway. He was holding me up, and my knees were still shaking despite it. But he was there in front of me, and there was nothing stopping us. Once again, what we’d done today kept replaying in my mind. From the look in his eyes, I wasn’t the only one who was feeling the phantom touches and kisses, but he was keeping himself in control.