Broken Knight Page 36

“Tell that to your girlfriend,” I murmured, and we twisted to watch Jefferson and Poppy through the display window of the shelter.

They were huddled in the corner of the room, Poppy showing him something on her phone. She laughed and swatted his chest. Once again, I realized I couldn’t dislike her, even if I tried. Her only sin was being interested in the same guy I was in love with.

Knight looked back at me, jutting his chin out.

“Nice comeback. You open that mouth for FUCKING JOSH, too?”

His words burned hot with lust; they were sweet poison, glossed over an apple I knew better than to bite.

He was picking a fight again. I locked my jaw and narrowed my eyes at him. He’d never been this cruel to me before. I got that he was hurt, but he had no right.

“Not to talk, of course. You’re too precious for talking, aren’t you, Luna? But maybe to suck his dick?” Knight cocked his head sideways, his eyes dead. “C’mon, Luna, is that what it is? You tasted dick and realized how good it is, and now you can’t get enough?”

I turned around and started for my bike, dashing down the road. He grabbed my arm and spun me around.

“Let go, or I’ll slap you again.”

“I’ll take your wrath over your indifference,” he deadpanned, unblinking.

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Would people stop saying that? There’s always a fucking choice.” He threw his head back, laughing manically.

“Are you drunk?” I scrunched my nose.

“No,” he shot automatically.

“You seem drunk.”

“What makes you say that?”

“When you’re drunk, you’re mean.”

He was spiraling again. And I was talking to him. Again. Because I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know how to cut him out of my life, even when he cut me so deep.

“You can’t half-ass a relationship, Knight. Either you’re in or you’re not. You’re with Poppy now, but you treat her like crap. Every time I’m in the room, you put your relationship with her on the back burner. You don’t let me move on without faulting me for talking, or flirting, or kissing other guys. Guess what? I can. More than that, I will. We had our chance, and we blew it. My fault. Your fault. Does it really matter now?” I spoke quickly, breathlessly, my chest rising and falling rapidly. “I will meet someone else. I will sleep with someone else. I will love someone el—”

He cut me off with a searing kiss, slamming my back against the wall in the process. Lacing his fingers through mine, he pinned my hands to the wall beside my waist, caging me in. I growled, knowing we were somewhere public, doing something wrong.

He has a girlfriend. Break the kiss, Luna. Now.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His tongue ring swirled across my lips teasingly, his kiss hot and incredibly deep as he thrust his tongue into my mouth again. “There will be no one else, Moonshine. I will never let you get over me.”

He took my jaw between his fingers, and I had a moment of epiphany, very similar to the one I’d had when he’d saved me from the car crash.

Knight was not a good guy.

He wasn’t even a decent one. But he’d been my protector. My savior. My guardian angel. Now that he’d quit that role, all bets were off. The precious prize became the prey. My halo was broken. My free passes—no longer free.

“I really do hate y—” I started.

“You already mentioned. Let me assure you: I don’t give a fuck.”

With that, he crashed his lips against mine again. This time, I wrapped my arms around his neck, exploring his delicious mouth, his furious lips, his tongue and the barbell in it—the way he whirled it inside my mouth, devouring me with an urgency I didn’t know someone so cool was even capable of.

Trailing his tongue ring from my mouth to my neck, leaving tingly shivers of desire in his wake, he whispered, “I will make you so fucking wet for me, Luna. So fucking ready. And. I. Will. Never. Fuck. You. Never give you what you want.”

My eyes bugged in shock at the same time I heard Poppy’s voice piercing through the foggy cloud of lust surrounding us.

“Knight?” Her posh accent sounded frayed.

Like if you pulled more words out of her mouth, they’d come out in one thread. She stood there, the evening light twinkling behind her in a gorgeous backdrop, in her sensible navy dress and her Wizard of Oz strappy shoes, unshed tears brimming in her eyes. She looked about as ready to work hard at the shelter as I looked ready to be a KKK poster child.

I cupped my mouth. I didn’t trust myself not to apologize aloud.

You did this, Luna, I wanted to cry. It is because of you she feels this way.

Knight stared ahead, like she was a wall he had to bulldoze through. Jefferson came out of the shelter. He stuffed his hands into his jacket’s pockets, looking between all of us. I was still caged between Knight’s arms. Jefferson put his hand on Poppy’s shoulder. I couldn’t help but notice the disappointment in his eyes when he looked at me.

“How’d you get here?” he asked her.

Rather than answering and risking an outburst, Poppy tilted her chin in Knight’s direction.

“Let me take you home.”

Her gaze lingered on Knight one more moment before she shook her head. They turned around just in time for me to gather my wits, slip from between Knight’s arms, and run to my bike. I didn’t even care that I was running again. That he was chasing me. That Beth and Eugene still needed help. Anything to get away from my angel turned devil. I unchained my bike, flung a leg over it, and sped back to my house. I heard cars honking and Knight cursing behind me, but I dared not look back. This time, neither of us was going to save the other.

This time, we were on our own.

 

 

“Are you going to let it ring for eternity?” Mom looked up from watching Fried Green Tomatoes.

The shit I endured in the name of my love for her was on another level. I was ninety-nine percent sure if she hadn’t been so sick, I’d have bathed in hot lava before I’d watch an angsty chick flick.

“That’s the plan.” I sent the phone call to voicemail for the fifth time.

Mom frowned. “Texas area code? Who do you know in Texas?”

“Probably a college thingy.” I kissed her forehead, motioning to the screen. “Look, you’re missing your favorite part, where he tells her he’s not really there for the barbecue, but because he thinks she’s a shithead.”

“You want to go to an out-of-state college?” she persisted, eyeing me carefully. “Because you know you can, right?”

“Mom, drop it.”

“Knight,” she warned.

I rolled my eyes and stood up, advancing to my room. She was in a probing mood, and I wasn’t in the business of denying my mother anything, especially when she’d spent the past week throwing up mucus, retching all night. Dad had put pillows all around their bathroom floor, and they sat there all night, every night. I heard them talk and laugh and whisper. Whenever she felt good enough, anyway.

In the mornings, when her massage therapist arrived, Dad would disappear to one of the spare rooms downstairs, his eyes bloodshot. Earlier, I’d followed him into his study silently. I’d found him bracing his desk from the other side, his back quivering as sobs rippled through his body. My dad. The mighty Dean Cole. Crying.