Page 31 of Knox

Knox, as if he’d forgotten why we’re doing this, jolts and nods his head. “Yeah, let’s go in.”

Roman hesitates for a moment. “Um, do you want to do this one-on-one? I can start unpacking some of my boxes upstairs.”

“No,” Knox says forcefully, then takes a moment. “No, I want you to hear this. You need to know this too.” He holds his hand out, and Roman takes hold of it.

I take the seat Knox offers me, a large soft chair that probably seats two if you snuggle up. He and Roman take the sofa. “I don’t know where you want me to start. I don’t want to tell any of your story in case it’s a too sensitive and private part of your life.”

“I told Roe about my life up to the point where we left each other. I’d like to hear what happened to you to get you killed but not killed. It’s like something out of a movie.”

So, I start from saying goodbye to Ellis. The drug gangs, the prostitutes, the theft, and violence. How I was scared nearly every day. Knox curses at the initiation I underwent to be a full member of DeVon’s gang. How shit scared I was when I thought I was being kidnapped, then finding out I could be useful to an organisation and get a way out of what was surely my one-way ticket to the mortuary sometime soon.

“It kinda got fucked up; the guy I’d been sent to was working with both gangs. He was never a member but was the go-to guy for cutting drugs. I overheard what was going to be a double cross that would take me out, so I ran, like seriously fucking ran. I was chased into an underpass. I had a bullet proof vest on, but these guys, they used knives. Less chance of being noticed than a bulge of a gun.

“The guy worked it out as soon as his knife met resistance, and he knew I was a grass. He stabbed me in the neck and leg, cutting my femoral artery, but luckily missing the carotid in my neck. The back up was on us, swarming around the dark passageway. All I could think was I’m dying on a filthy, piss-soaked, needle-ridden ground was I doubted that you would never know.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Knox says in a hushed voice. “I saw it on the news. I went off the rails for a while, turning back into the feral kid Robin first met.”

“What happened? Because you obviously didn’t die. How did you survive?” Roman’s voice is rough, full of emotion.

“I had some long operations, and then when I got out of hospital, I spent some time recuperating and became Maddox Levin. At least it is a cool name.”

“And I guess the rest, as they say, is history,” Knox says, possibly in shock.

So, it’s exactly as Drake predicted: he informed on his crew to get out of the hell he’d thought would lead him to a better life, one with money in his pocket and a decent roof over his head. Instead, it was violent and dangerous, and the only way out was in a coffin.

Pain shoots through my gut for all he went through. Why was he so stubborn when I went back to the derelict shop. He should’ve come with me. “Why did you push me away? You should’ve had this life.”

Maddox is quiet, his forearms resting on his knees, his head bowed. What is taking him so long to answer me? When he lifts his head, pain and anguish are written all over his face, the grief in his eyes makes me want to look away. “Because I loved you, and you deserved to have the world given to you. If I’d gone with you, you wouldn’t have grown and moved on,” he pauses. “I’d always be the one you looked to, allowing me to make all the decisions, instead of learning to be strong and independent. Because…because that would mean you’d love me as your brother and not the way I love you.”

I sit back into the sofa cushion; I have no answer to that because he used love in the present tense. Roman must’ve caught it, too, because he stiffens, and the hand on my thigh tightens. I pull him back, kissing the top of his head. “You can’t’ve known that back then,” I say, disbelief soaking through my voice. “We were kids. We had no clue what love was. No one had ever shown us any.”

“I knew you’d say that. But trust me, I knew. You don’t have to believe me; I don’t blame you. Especially now knowing our sexual preferences, it would never work out.”

I don’t miss the way his eyes flick to Roman, making it my turn to grip him a little tighter. Anger flares inside me. “You saw us together, that Roman likes to be shared. Is that what’s making you say you love me? You want in?”

The shock on his face makes his cheeks flush red. “What the fuck? No!”

“Knox, baby. Slow down, you’re jumping way too far ahead.” Roman’s hand on my chest calms me down a little, not much, but a little.

“You’ve gotta see how this looks. He’s suddenly back in my life, telling me he loves me? Who does that?”

“Someone who’s already lost one life, someone with no one in the new one,” Maddox says, his chin up, his gaze unwavering. “I didn’t come looking for you, Knox. You turned up at that fight; you searched me out.”

“Yeah, and if you remember, I walked away from you,” I remind him.

“We’re getting nowhere here.” Roman acts as referee, holding up his hands as if to separate us. “Maybe it’s time to call it quits tonight. We can talk again tomorrow.”

“I don’t see what there is to talk about. He’s talking out of his arse,” I snap, then rein it in when Roman looks hurt. “I’m sorry, love.” I wrap my hand around his nape and squeeze gently.

I stand up and brush my hands down my legs, straightening my jeans, something I’ve always done even when I was a kid. Even if our clothes were hand-me-downs or dirty, normally both, I still brushed them down. A small sliver of ice in my heart cracks; he’s trying to be honest, to make a new start.

“What?” Maddox is watching me.

He smiles a small smile, a sad smile. “You’ve always done that, even when we were kids. You always brush your clothes off. I’d forgotten about that.”

“I bet you still double knot your shoes.” I look at Roman. “He never had the right size shoes, so he had to tie them tight so they wouldn’t fall off.”

Any attempt at humour had gone at the sad statement. “Christ, how the hell did we survive?” I shake my head at the misery of our lives.