Page 122 of Hard Bargain

“Yeah,” Dominic muttered. “Tell me about it.”

Knox paced, running both hands through his hair, tension radiating off him. “Dom, this is too much. I can’t just take your apartment. I can’t just—what, let you handle everything? That’s not how life works.”

“It’s just a place. It’s sitting empty. Nobody’s using it.”

Knox stopped moving, but the resistance was still written all over him. “What about her?” he asked. “What happens the next time this happens and I’m not there?”

Dominic’s jaw tightened. “She gets help.”

“She won’t go,” Knox shot back. “That’s how this always goes.”

Dominic stepped closer, voice dropping. “Then I’ll pay for it and make sure it actually happens. I’ll put people on it.”

Knox frowned. “You can’t—”

“I can,” Dominic said. “But not while you’re still there. Not while you’re the one thing standing between her and the next time.”

Knox’s eyes met his. The resistance was still there—the kind that came from years of being the only person who showed up. But beneath it, barely visible, there was something that looked like relief. Like exhaustion. Like a boy who’d been carrying too much since he was eleven years old and had just been told, for the first time, that he didn’t have to.

Dominic didn’t look away. “I’m not asking."

Chapter 32

Knox

The last three days had been insane. Everything blurred together—one decision bleeding into the next before he could prepare for it, before he could even finish processing the last one.

Men Knox had never seen before had shown up at the apartment, packed his things, carried boxes, and dismantled what little there was to take apart. It felt surreal, standing there while strangers handled pieces of his life like logistics.

But underneath the strangeness, there had been relief every time another box left the apartment like it didn't belong there anymore.

Like he didn’t belong there anymore.

It should’ve been harder. And maybe it was, just not in the way he expected.

He’d spent every visiting hour at the hospital. Whenever they let him in, he was there. The room was always the same—lights turned up higher than necessary, the kind of brightness that made everything feel clinical and exposed.

During some visits she talked about how she was feeling better. How it wasn’t as serious as it looked. Smoothing it over, making it smaller, the way she always did.

On other visits she didn’t talk at all. Those were worse. The silence would stretch, heavy and uncomfortable, filled with things neither of them said. Still, he stayed until the nurses told him time was up every single time.

And then there was the last visit. Dominic had come with him. That alone had felt strange—Dominic in that room, under those lights, completely out of place and completely unbothered by it. Knox had told her during that visit that he was moving out. She hadn’t taken it well, her reaction a mix of disbelief and something she tried to twist into guilt.

Dominic had explained to her that there’d be a home nurse, daily visits to make sure she ate and took her medication, along with weekly pickups for the therapy appointments he had arranged.

When she tried to refuse, Dominic shut it down without raising his voice. “No isn’t an option,” he’d said, like it was already decided. “You’re done ruining your son’s life by ruining your own.”

Knox had sat there and said nothing and felt something crack open in his chest that he’d been holding shut for a very long time.

And if all of that hadn’t been enough to wear him down, there was the situation with Dominic. During the days, Dominic worked. Busy dealing with things Knox didn’t ask about—he couldn’t keep avoiding his responsibilities just to hold Knox’s hand.

But at night.

At night.

Every night, somehow, Knox ended up in Dominic’s bed. It wasn’t something they talked about, it just… happened. Dominic would pull him close, big arms wrapping around him, his body warm and solid at his back. Close enough that Knox could feel Dominic’s breath against his neck. Sometimes Dominic would murmur low in Knox’s ear and his skin would prickle and goosebumps would rise.

He never stayed awake long in his arms. Dominic made him feel safe in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. Which, given that the man in question was arguably the most dangerous person Knox had ever met, was absurd. But he didn’t question it. He didn’t want to.