The Billionaire's Secret Kink Box Set: Knox: Secret Alpha Billionaire Romance Bundle (Rosesson Brothers Book 1) (34 page)

Knox ran to the couch and set his feet, then bent at the knees and got his hands under it. He overturned it with a bellow, dropping it onto his father's glass coffee table. Knox looked around for more to break, since he no longer knew if he was right for breaking his father's face.

"Knox," a soft voice called to him, and all of the rage leaked out of him at once, leaving him feeling as weak as a kitten.

He turned to Mica, and when he saw the look on her face, he broke. He sank to the ground where he was standing, dropped his face into his hands and cried like a little boy. He didn't know what he had expected to see when he faced her, but it hadn't been the pure and shining acceptance that he had seen. Even after everything she had heard about his family, she still cared for him. Wasn't about to run far away, like he wanted to.

Knox heard Daxton and Bronx come down the stairs and someone whispered something to Mica. They all continued to the bottom of the stairs and approached him. He felt heavy, like he wanted to sleep for a week. His tears dried up quickly, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

"Knox, hey man, it'll be ok," Daxton said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Knox couldn't look up, couldn't face his brother, for once in his life, didn't want to look in the eyes of someone who shared the same bloodline with him.

"Look, we can't possibly know who is telling the truth, and it doesn't even matter," Bronx said. "It all happened a long time ago. There's nothing to be done about it right now. Mom's happy. Dad's happy. Maybe we should just try to forget everything we heard and make sure they don't ever see each other again."

Knox couldn't understand how Bronx could say that! It mattered. It all mattered. If Mom was telling the truth, then Dad needed to pay for it. If Dad was telling the truth ... then how could he continue to love his mother the way he always had? Knox pulled away from the hand on his shoulder, keeping his face buried in his hands. His brothers didn't understand. They had been too little when all of this had happened. Knox had lived through it! Remembered every detail from it. Had suffered horribly when his dad had told him little Amelia Mae had died. He had cried, alone in his room for months, thinking of his tiny baby sister who had never gotten to feel the sun on her face, never would grow up or fall in love, never be held and kissed by her big brothers. For Knox, her death had always haunted him. He had begged his father to let him see her body, let him hold her just once, and his father had said no, she was already at the funeral home awaiting cremation. He had begged his father for a picture, and his father had said no, they had taken no pictures, his mother hadn't wanted any.

Knox remembered his father telling him that, remembered the look on his father's face and the sound of his father's voice.
No, Knox, there are no pictures. Your mother forbade me from taking any.

Knox's hands clenched into fists again, blaming both his mother and his father now, wanting to never see either of them again. His thoughts turned inward, spiraled downward, and he felt himself being pulled back into the misery of those days. He'd always been a happy child, but something had changed in him after he'd been told Amelia Mae had died. Especially when his mother had come back changed, and his father hadn't seemed to grieve at all. He'd lost innocence, he knew that, but he'd also lost something more and never regained it. He'd never fully healed from that incident, and now that he had discovered it was all a lie, anger at his parents coursed through him like a raging river. One that would never stop, could never be dammed.

He turned his body, pulling away from the hand on his shoulder. He couldn't deal with this right now, didn't want to talk to anyone. He wanted to be alone with his ... his what? His grief, his anger, his feelings of absolute betrayal?

He looked up at the door, thinking he would spring through it, take off, disappear. Just walk though. If he drove, he might run something over. He felt completely out of control, untrustable.

A soft hand fluttered onto his arm and he looked at it. Mica.

"Knox, let me take you home," she said.

Home. Home sounded good. If he were home he could deal with this. Process it. Not kill anyone.

Knox put his hand over Mica's, hoping she would understand that was all the answer he could give right now.

She squeezed his arm, then gave him an awkward hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear. He felt her tears mingle with his own.

Sorry. He was sorry too. So fucking sorry his heart felt it would burst with it.

Mica

Mica pulled into Knox's driveway, eyeing the gate guard. She didn't know what the man would think of her driving Knox's truck with Knox completely silent and unmoving in the passenger seat, withdrawn into some private world where she hadn't been able to follow.

Daxton had told her to drive him home. Told her he and Bronx would deal with their father and Darcia and all the damage Knox had caused. Told her to take Tiny and Lulu, they would make Knox happy. Told her to text him if Knox got worse or if she couldn't handle him. Told her that he would be by tomorrow to check on Knox.

They had bundled Knox into the truck, where he still sat in the exact same position, his eyes glassy and staring at his feet. Mica couldn't help but be eerily reminded of his mother. She pushed the thought away. Knox was strong, stable. He'd suffered a horrible blow and needed some time to process it. She was still reeling from the day and she wasn't even related to any of those people.

The gate guard waved a greeting and opened the gate immediately, making Mica think that Daxton had called ahead. She blessed him silently, glad he always thought of everything.

She pulled down the long driveway and parked the truck. "We're here, she told Knox."

He didn't respond, just stared at his shoes.

Mica got out of the truck and let the dogs out, then went around to Knox's door and opened it. He looked around like he just noticed where they were, then slid out of the truck without a word and stalked into the house, leaving Mica staring after him.

She followed him, determined not to push him, not to try to make him talk, or pull anything out of him. He would know when he was ready.

Knox opened the door with a key and walked inside, then went straight up the stairs. Mica watched him, then called the dogs in and locked the door. She ran after him, finally finding him in his bedroom, under the covers, his clothes still on but his shoes off, his eyes closed and the light off.

Mica stared at his shoes in the dim light from the hallway for a long time, completely unsure what to do. Finally, she did the only thing she could think of. She crawled in the bed next to him, wrapped her arm and one leg around him, and laid with him until they both fell asleep.

***

The next day passed slowly. Knox stayed in bed till after two, when she finally was able to convince him to get up for some food. He talked very little, and only when spoken to. Mica took care of the dogs and prepared him food. She opened his refrigerator to find it packed full of a week's worth of meals for what looked like three people.

She questioned him about it but only got a simple sentence as an answer. "Cook came."

Mica couldn't imagine why each meal seemed to be portioned up into containers for three different people until she put a breakfast bowl in front of him and he wouldn't eat it. He stared at it for a long time, until she finally remembered and ran back to the fridge for another, sliding the second bowl directly behind the first. Then he ate, mechanically, without any enjoyment, but at least he ate. He must have told his cook to make enough food for both of them, and for Knox, that meant three portions.

Daxton came to check on Knox, but Knox wouldn't talk to him about what had happened, or about anything. Knox said
hi
and then disappeared into his office, leaving Daxton frowning and staring after him.

"How's he been?" he asked Mica, as they stood in the living room, the dogs at Mica's feet.

Mica stared at Daxton's shirt for a moment, her eyes tracing the scuba diver and the friendly-looking shark, then reading the caption.
Sharks hug with their mouths.

Mica snorted, glad for the laugh, no matter how small. "He slept until just an hour ago, but he won't talk to me either. I haven't pushed him much."

Daxton nodded. "That's very smart. Knox is the strongest man I know, but there's nothing he loves more than his family. He always retreats from people when something rocks him, and this has got to be tearing him apart. Now that I think about it, that's probably why Mom only wanted to tell him. Mom knew he would react like he did and she wanted him to. I talked to her doctor this morning, told him everything. He says there's a good chance Dad is telling the truth, or at least that his version has truth mixed in, and that Mom's version is idealized, something she made herself believe over the last twenty years. If she believes it, she may have wanted Dad to be punished, and that's why she told Knox and not any of the rest of us."

Mica chewed on her bottom lip, uncomfortable at being treated like one of the family, but warmed by it too. Daxton obviously trusted her.

"I have to get back to work," Daxton said. "Tell Knox I have everything under control at the office. He can take as much time off as he needs." He dropped his voice and positioned his body so he was standing straight in front of Mica, his face grave. "I'm sorry to say that we have no more information on Dick Bailey than we did a week ago. He seems to have disappeared completely. It would be nice if he crawled into a hole somewhere and died, but we can't rely on that. You aren't planning on leaving here, are you? Because you shouldn't be alone."

Mica shook her head. "No, I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I want to stay with Knox."

Daxton nodded and smiled at her. "Do you need anything? Clothes? A computer? Anything?"

"No, I'm good, thank you," she said, surprised by his thoughtfulness.

"Oh! I almost forgot. I talked to Paul Banning this morning and he faxed me a letter he said was for your eyes only."

Mica's heart sped up at the mention of Banning. She hadn't thought about him in over twenty-four hours. Her morning spent at his house seemed like an age ago.

Daxton walked out to his truck and ambled back in, holding some papers in his hand.

Mica couldn't tear her eyes away from the shiny fax papers with a neat, cursive script on it.

"I haven't read it, so if there's anything about Dick Bailey in there, call me."

Mica nodded, her hand out, her heart in her throat.

Daxton handed over the papers, then suddenly swept her into a hug and squeezed her tightly. "Thanks for saving my brother's life," he whispered, emotion in his voice.

"What?" Mica gasped when he finally let her go. "I didn't save his life."

Daxton stared at her, his eyes dark. "Darcia admitted what she did. She said she had every intention of putting a bullet in Knox and she said she would do it again if he started knocking Dad around another time."

"Oh," Mica breathed, distraught at the thought.

"Yeah, I don't expect Knox to head back over there, but if he does, call me right away."

"I will."

"They got married, you know."

"I didn't," Mica admitted, wondering what Knox would think of that.

"No one does. They went to Vegas last weekend. Darcia told me when I confronted her about the gun. Let me be the one to tell Knox, ok? When he's ... feeling better."

Mica nodded, the papers hot in her hands.

Daxton stooped to pet the happy dogs, then took a step backwards and waved at her. Mica waved back and he disappeared out the door. Mica stepped to the door and closed and locked it, then stared at the papers in her hands.

Back to her own drama.

Mica

Mica flopped down on the couch and stared at the papers with Banning's neat script on them. Lulu climbed up next to her and put her head in Mica's lap. Mica dropped a hand to the dog's ears, glad for the closeness.

Mica looked towards the stairs that led up to Knox's office once, then began to read.

Dear Marjorie,

I know, sure as I'm living, that all you want to hear from me is why I paid Dick Bailey money. I wrote that out and tried to send it to you, but it don't make sense without the story, so I scratched it out and tried again. Here's the whole story. I ain't asking for nothing. Not forgiveness. Not understanding. Not thanks, neither, 'course, cuz I don't deserve none. I did a horrible thing. Someday I'll rot in Hell for it. But till then, I have to know you at least had the chance to hear the full story. If you want, burn the next three pages and don't read them. On page four, that's where I tell why I paid Bailey. Don't know it'll help you much without the story behind it, but don't know if you want to hear the story neither.

Mica didn't want to know.

She turned the page.

She had to know.

Thirty years ago I was a bad man. A low-down, shameful excuse for a man that shoulda been struck down by God, but never was. I won't try to explain it away or give you excuses, God knows I did enough of that in my time. Crack was my drug of choice. I was a heavy user, sick of life, and full of self-hatred. Your grandma and I had a bit of a rough childhood, and I had never been able to get past that, then I got flung into the rice patties of Vietnam and I learned what rough really was. I said I wasn't going to give excuses, so let me stop the sob story. I'd started drinking from my own Ma's stash when I was nine, then taking her drugs at twelve.