Page 153 of Hard Bargain

“Knox?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He almost hung up, said never mind, and kept pacing until Dominic came home and the panic passed or swallowed him whole.

“Hey,” he said instead.

“You okay?”

Knox pressed a hand against his forehead. No. Not even close. “I need—” His voice caught. “I think I need to get out of Stockton for a while. Would it be weird if I came down there?”

“To LA?”

“Yeah.” He hated how uncertain he sounded.

Jacob didn’t leave him hanging for long. “It wouldn’t be weird. You can stay as long as you need.”

Knox shut his eyes. He should have felt relief.

Jacob was talking but Knox barely heard any of it. His gaze had drifted across the loft. If he stayed, he would fall deeper. If he left now, maybe he could still stop this. Maybe he could save himself before the loss became the kind you don’t recover from.

“Yeah,” he heard himself say. “I’ll come.”

The conversation continued. Jacob said something else. Knox responded, probably. He wasn’t sure. Everything had gone distant—muffled, like hearing the world through water—because his body had registered what his mind was still trying to catch up to.

The grief hit so violently he folded over the counter, forehead pressing against his fist, ribs screaming. I love him. I love him. I love him.

Tears came before he could stop them. He pressed the heel of his hand against his mouth, as if that could somehow hold the heartbreak in. It felt like severing something living.

He could already feel it bleeding out inside him.

Chapter 40

Dominic

Dominic,

I’m sorry. I know this is a shitty way to do this. I know I should have waited and said it to your face, but if I had, I don’t think I would’ve left.

Things have changed between us in ways I wasn’t prepared for, and I got scared. That’s the simplest way to say it. And that probably makes me a coward.

I’ve gone to LA for a while to stay with my half-brother. Please don’t try to talk me out of this.

I need space.

Thank you for everything you did for me. I’m sorry for repaying it by leaving.

Knox

For a long moment he only stared at the note, eyes moving over Knox’s handwriting as if, by sheer force of will, he could make the words rearrange themselves into something else. Some misunderstanding. Some stupid joke. But the meaning remained the same.

Knox had left him.

Knox had left him.

The realization didn’t hit all at once. It spread slowly, like cold seeping under a door, creeping in before he understood he was shivering from it.

He read the letter again.

And again.