Page 145 of Hard Bargain

Still nothing.

“Say something,” Knox shouted.

Dominic’s gaze moved to him. Calm. Measured. Infuriating. “You needed medical attention.”

Knox let out a disbelieving laugh that hurt his chest. “Yeah? And that was the only option you could think of?”

“Yes.”

The flat certainty of it made Knox’s grip tighten in the thin hospital blanket. “No, it wasn’t,” he shot back. “You have people. You always have people. You could’ve handled it without—this.” He gestured vaguely around the room. “Without putting yourself in the middle of it.”

Dominic didn’t move. “You were unstable.”

“I was breathing.”

“Barely.”

Knox shook his head, anger spiking again to cover the fear and vulnerability it had exposed. “So what? That means you walk me into a place that asks questions? That calls the police? You think that was a smart move?”

“Yes.”

Knox stared at him. “You don’t get it. This isn’t just about me. You don’t get to take risks like that just because I—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “Just because what?”

Knox looked away and dragged a hand through his hair before it stalled halfway, the movement making him wince. He ignored the pain, focusing instead on the thought that had gone too far to reel back in.

People didn’t do that. Not for him. They never had.

Growing up, if something had to give, it was him. His mom had always been caught in her own spiral, his dad worse in every way that counted, and somewhere along the line Knox had learned that his needs came last—if they came at all.

The idea that someone would look at him and decide he was worth risking anything for didn’t sit right. It didn’t fit with the way he understood the world and his place in it.

“Just because you decided I was worth the risk,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Silence.

Dominic stepped closer. “It wasn’t a risk.”

Knox barked out another laugh. “Yeah, it was. Your whole life depends on people not looking too closely. And you just, what, threw that out the window because I got beat up?”

“I didn’t know how hurt you were.” Dominic’s gaze dropped to the bruises and bandages. “You could’ve had internal bleeding. You could’ve been dying.”

A knot formed low in Knox’s gut as something uncomfortable pushed up behind the anger. He buried it before it could surface. “I wasn’t dying.”

“I didn’t know that. And you’re not the one who decides what I risk,” Dominic said.

“I should be if it’s because of me,” Knox snapped.

“No.”

Knox clenched his jaw, frustration climbing higher, mixing with what felt a lot like fear if he was stupid enough to examine it. “You could’ve gotten exposed,” he said. “Someone could’ve connected you to it. You could’ve ended up in jail. You think that doesn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter more than you staying alive.”

Knox’s throat went dry. He swallowed hard and clung to the anger, because it was easier—so much easier—than dealing with whatever this was. “That’s stupid,” he said.

“Maybe.”