The Billionaire's Secret Kink Box Set: Knox: Secret Alpha Billionaire Romance Bundle (Rosesson Brothers Book 1) (35 page)

My drug habit got worse and worse over time, but your grandma always stuck by me. She was the only one who did. We'd been through a lot together as kids, I think that was why. So when I lost my job and my house cuz all I did was smoke, your grandma let me sleep on her couch. One night, your ma and your grandma had a big fight. Your ma wanted to go out, and your grandma wouldn't let her, so after your grandma went to sleep your ma snuck out of the house to see her boyfriend, a young man your grandma despised and had forbidden her to be with, even threatening to shoot him if he ever sniffed round your ma again. When your ma snuck back in at four in the morning, she practically stepped on me, passed out on the floor. I woke up, high and not right in the head, and did the awful deed, telling her if she screamed I'd be sure to tell her ma where she'd been and who she'd been with all night.

When it was done, I rolled over and went back to sleep. Your ma stumbled into her room and didn't come out for days. A month later, she finally told her ma, because she was pregnant. She swore she'd been a virgin until I made her do it, so I was the only one who could have knocked her up. Your grandma confronted me, the look on her face saying she didn't know what she wanted to believe. But high as I was those days, all I could do was try to save my own skin. I told her I would never do such a thing and that I'd been with my good friend Dick Bailey all day and night. Dick and I went way back, we were drafted together and served together in the war, and he was the only person I could think of who would maybe tell a lie for me. And lie he did, telling a grand old story of what we'd been doing. We had been together that day, but I'd left him in around nine and gone home, hearing the tail end of the fight, but your grandma never saw me.

Your grandma accused your ma of lying, and your ma couldn't take it. She ran off and we never saw her again. I figured she'd get herself an abortion and it would be over, although I didn't think much of it at the time. I had no ability to love or care or feel remorse. All I cared about was me, and the drug, and a few of my old army buddies.

One night, several years after your mom took off, I had myself an accident. One of my army buddies had come to visit. I was still staying at your grandma's house, and I snuck him in, thinking your grandma wouldn't mind. She was gone, I forget where. I had been doing heroin all day before he showed up with speedballs. I shot some and was feeling good, then he offered me my old favorite, crack. As soon as I took the first hit, I knew something was wrong with it. It didn't feel right. It shot through my brain like a bullet and that was all I knew. Three hours later I woke up in the hospital with my back broken and cuffs holding me to the bed. The police officer standing over me wouldn't say a word, but eventually I learned that I had gone crazy, beat my friend to death with a blender base, and then jumped off the roof. I did ten years in prison then got out on good behavior since I had never been in trouble before.

So that was the moment my life changed. Too bad tho, your mom was still gone, my friend was still dead, and my legs were still useless. I gave up the drugs, all of them, never even thought about using again. I wish I could say I made up for all the bad things I did, but mostly I just kept quiet. I thought about killing myself many times, but I ain't in no hurry to end up holdin' hands with the devil.

The last few years have been 'specially bad, cuz I can really see how messed up the things I done were. The older I get, the more guilty I feel. Guilt ain't nothin' but a feeling, I know that.

So here's the part you want to know about. Well, I never had a whole ton of money. Just my pension from Uncle Sam, and my disability check. When I got out of the pen I could afford to stay in a house or buy food, but not both, so I tried anything an ex-con in a wheelchair could do to make money. One day I picked up my paintbrush again that I had put down in high school, and actually seemed to have a talent for it. I started selling my pieces and making enough to live on. Not a lot, but enough.

While I was in prison, Dick Bailey was the only person to come visit me. He had taken up with those KKK people and disappeared for years at a time, but I saw him every time he came into town. One day he showed up just to tell me 'bout a new development in his life. He'd gotten married to a girl 'bout your mom's age. But that weren't the worst of it. She knew your mom, and she talked about your mom sometimes. She were a good girl, Karen, I seemed to recollect a bit about her from when your mom had her over a few times. Dick Bailey never said what he did to get her to marry him, and I couldn't quite figure it out ever, but there they were, married. Dick's final words to me on his last prison visit were, 'if Marylyn ever shows up, I'll be sure to tell you'.

And sure 'nough, Marylyn did show up, with you in tow. Bailey made a special trip round my house just to tell me. Your grandma had died already, and I was sorry as hell to hear Marylyn was dying too. I won't say trying to get you to come live with me didn't cross my mind for a flash, but I knew it would never happen. And it weren't right anyway. I didn't deserve you.

So here's the part 'bout where I paid Dick money. You'd been living at his house for years, but I knew he weren't around much. Before Karen died he came over to my house one day and said you were growing up fine, and did I want to see a picture of you. I did. He handed me one. You looked sad, like no young girl should be, but otherwise ok. Alive. Pretty. I stared at the picture for a long time, wondering how my sin could have created something so perfect. But then I realized God wouldn't punish you for what I did wrong.

'She's pretty, huh?' Dick said. 'Just becoming a woman, too.' he said, and something in his voice made me look at him, hard. The smile on his face told me he didn't mean nothing too innocent by it and I felt a sick fear and anger in my chest. I said 'What are you talkin' 'bout, Dick? You ain't thinkin' 'bout doin' nothing to that girl, are you?' 'Course not', he said, but that evil smile never slipped. I yelled and I threatened and I accused him of plenty, but he mostly just laughed at me. He weren't the only one who treated me like a joke after my accident and prison sentence, but he were the one who hurt the most. I thought we'd been friends, some sorta friends anyway, but that was when I realized what kind of men all of my friends had ever been. The same kind of man I had been.

I tried to figure out what I could do about it. I even called the Police and tried to explain it to the officer that came out to my place. I told him what Dick had said and he looked at me like I was stupid. I tried to explain the feeling I had gotten from Dick, but he said feelings didn't count for shit and I were imaginin' things.

I thought 'bout going to Karen, knowing it wouldn't do no good, but before I could, she died. I went to your school and tried to explain things to the officer assigned to the school, asking if he could just keep an eye on you, but he didn't listen to me neither. I don't think he even made a note of your name.

Finally, I did the only thing I could think of. I offered to pay Dick money if he would leave you alone, let you grow up without that scar. Like I said, I knew him for a long time, and I knew money talked to him like nothing else. I threatened him and bluffed him and said I'd hired a private detective to watch him and if I ever found out he'd touched you I would kill him. He laughed and asked me when I'd grown a conscience and asked me why I didn't just come get you myself if I thought he was such a fuckup. He knew I couldn't do that. He was just pourin' salt all over me.

But he did agree to take my money, all the time sayin' how he sure would appreciate my help takin' care of that poor orphan girl he adopted, cuz she deserved a roof over her head and a father who could help her find her way in the world.

My arts and colors had been doin' well, and I had enough money comin' in to give Dick a sizable amount a month. It didn't leave much left for a private detective, but I did hire one to look in on you at school as often as I could. I couldn't be sure Dick were keepin' his promise, but I thought he were. I knew him, see. Keepin' his word was one thing that was important to him. He never used words to say he wouldn't touch you, but he took my money, and to me, that was the same thing.

When you woulda been eighteen, my detective came back and said you were gone. You dropped out of school and disappeared. I said a little prayer that you were safe and happy, stopped payin' Dick the money, and that was the last I heard till you showed up on my doorstep.

I hope this information helps you. I stayed up all night, thinkin' if I knew anything else that could help you. I don't know where Dick used to go when he disappeared for years, but I heard whispers that he were somewhere in Harney county, deep in the forest. I'll put some names at the end of this letter of men who might know.

One thing I do know about Dick. He's dangerous. I seen him do some crazy shit in the war. I won't repeat none of it here, but weren't none of it somethin' a normal man would do.

He talked about a 'big job' for years. For a long time I thought it meant he was goin' to try to shoot a president, which he swore he would do if a woman or a black man ever got in. He was investigated by the secret service, I know that, but they let him go. I'm tellin' you this because I know he trained for it and stockpiled guns and explosives for it. Like I said, he's a dangerous man.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. And I can't say no more than that. I hope you have a good life.

Paul Banning

Mica looked over the names he had written on the bottom, not recognizing any of them. She dropped the hand holding the papers to her lap and stared out into the room, not seeing anything. Only thinking. Feeling. Musing.

Finally she stood, determined to call Daxton and give him the names and pertinent information, then put the letter away for a few days. Knox didn't need to deal with it right now, and neither did she.

She didn't even notice that her heart felt different somehow. Lighter. Less burdened.

Knox

Knox left his office, listening hard for voices downstairs. Hearing nothing, he crossed to the end of the hallway and looked out the window. Daxton's truck was gone. Good. He didn't want to talk to Daxton. He didn't want to talk to Mica either, but he did crave her presence in his home. He just needed some quiet time to sort everything out. He hated to have unfinished business on his mind, much preferring his usual cool blankness that let him focus on daily life.

His thoughts were wrestling hard with everything he had just learned, and if he tried to function, tried to talk to people, tried to work or be normal, all he would manage to do would be to push himself to his own personal breaking point. He'd learned that as a child, gotten in trouble for cutting school to go hide and think a few times, but he'd accepted any punishment without issue. It was worth it to find peace. Normally, he could work out issues that were bothering him in a few hours, but not this time. He didn't know how long this would take, he just hoped it wasn't the rest of his life.

Knox walked to his bedroom and laid down, even though it was only just after three in the afternoon. He lay in one spot, hearing Mica come in to check on him, feeling her smooth lips on his cheek as she kissed him and adjusted his blankets, then let himself drift into a troubled sleep.

Knox woke with a start, from a jumbled dream he couldn't remember. His mind started off exactly where he remembered leaving it, wrestling with the question of if he could ever forgive his parents, his
mother
, for lying about the baby.

She's not well. She hasn't been for decades.

She still shouldn't have done it.

She didn't know any better.

Knox sighed and looked around to see what time it was. Almost nine, he'd napped for six hours. His mind slipped to Mica and he started to push himself out of the bed to go check on her, but the door opened before he could move far. Knox dropped back onto the pillow, his eyes open, watching her enter the room, then cross to the bed.

She saw his eyes open and a smile crossed her lips. "Hi," she breathed.

Knox only stared. She looked beautiful with the hallway light illuminating her thick, blonde hair from the back. He wanted to touch her.

As if reading his thoughts, Mica slipped her shirt over her head, then took off her bra, her eyes locked on him the entire time. Knox's eyes traveled over her breasts and down to her waist. She bent and slipped off the rest of her clothes, then stood straight and watched him. Seemed to be waiting for something from him.

Knox let his gaze consume the rest of her, feeling his cock harden even as his mind rebelled. He slipped a hand under the sheet and lifted it, inviting Mica to join him. She climbed into the bed and scooted next to him, pressing the entire length of her naked body into him and running her hand along the muscles of his back. It felt good. Wonderful. Knox didn't even stop to realize that just two weeks ago, he would have never been able to handle the sensation.

Knox put a hand on her waist, feeling his cock strain against his zipper, but not having the mental fortitude to do anything about it.

Mica ran a hand up his chest and into his hair, her eyes examining him, asking him silent questions. Knox answered them as best he could with his stare.

No, I'm not alright, not yet.

No, I don't mind your touch.

Mica scooched up next to him on the pillow and kissed him. Knox closed his eyes and tried to kiss back, knowing his reactions were muted, dampened with heartache.