Page 3 of Hard Bargain

Knox snorted, but she wasn’t wrong.

She poked him with her foot. “Seriously. You okay?”

He shrugged. “Same as always. Work. Paying the bills. Making sure my mom doesn’t burn the place down.”

Tara tilted her head, her voice softer now. “It’s a lot, huh? Since your dad died.”

He looked away, jaw tight. “Yeah. He didn’t leave much behind. Just bills and an apartment that’s falling apart.” After a pause, he added, “Wasn’t like he was of much use when he was around, either. Spent most nights drunk or yelling at the TV. Never worked more than a few months anywhere.”

Knox’s mouth twisted with bitter memories. “He used to tear the house apart when he was pissed. Broke plates, punched holes in the walls. Never hit us, not really, but he knew how to hurt people without laying a finger on them. Could ruin a night with just a look. We’re better off without that asshole.”

Tara was quiet, letting him have the silence.

“He used to think the world owed him something,” Knox went on, voice flat. “All he ever did was drag us down with him. That heart attack… It was almost a relief. Just left me to clean up the mess. Six months, and I’m still the only one holding it together.”

Tara nudged his knee again, gentler this time. “That’s not on you.”

A short laugh slipped out. “Feels like it, though. Somebody’s gotta pay the bills.”

“Your mom still not doing any better?”

He shook his head. “She barely gets out of the house. I try, but…” He trailed off, frustration edging into his voice.

Tara’s foot pressed against his leg, grounding him. “You’re doing everything you can, Knox. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

He let out a slow breath, staring at a crack in the ceiling. “Doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Nothing ever does,” she said.

He looked at her then, searching for any sign of judgment, but found none.

Eventually, Tara stood and stretched, hair falling in her eyes. “You wanna stay?” she asked, unbothered either way.

He looked at the clock. It was late—later than he’d meant to stay. The thought of going home made his stomach twist, but he shook his head. “Should get back. My mom…”

Tara nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”

She walked him to the door, their shadows stretching along the hallway. At the threshold, she hesitated, arms folded tight. “If you ever need something—anything—just call, okay?”

He nodded. “I know.”

She stepped in, gave him a quick, tight hug, and then lingered a moment longer before letting go. “Be safe, Knox.”

“Night, Tara.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned for home, the heaviness settling back in as he walked. He didn’t expect anything to be different tomorrow. But as he closed his eyes briefly, he found himself wishing for it anyway.

Chapter 2

Knox

The gas station evening shift always dragged, like the clocks in this place were set ten minutes behind the rest of the world. Knox leaned against the counter, half-watching the grainy security camera feed, biting the corner of his lower lip just enough to keep himself awake.

The bell above the entrance chimed. He raised his eyes as two guys walked through the door. Young, loud, laughing at something one of them said. They were close—too close—shoulders brushing, one of them tugging lightly at the other’s sleeve as they headed toward the drinks cooler.

Knox’s gut tightened on instinct. His dad would’ve lost his shit at the sight. Fags, he’d have spit. Like it explained everything wrong with the world.

The thought came uninvited and automatic. He hated how that voice still lived somewhere in the back of his skull where it was hardest to dig out. Like rot in the walls—you could paint over it, ignore it, pretend it wasn’t there… but it never really left.

His eyes tracked the two guys as they moved through the aisles. They weren’t doing anything, just talking, laughing, existing. And yet the tension had already settled in his shoulders, wired into him long before he ever formed his own opinions.