Page 44 of Knox's Boy

I leaned down, capturing his mouth with mine. He responded immediately, yielding and eager, his body melting against me. His arms wound around my neck, pulling himself closer as the kiss deepened. The taste of his tears mingled with the heat of his mouth.

When we finally broke apart, both breathless, I rested his forehead under my chin.

"The rules aren't arbitrary," I said softly. "They're not about controlling you. They're about keeping you safe, helping you succeed, giving you the structure you need to thrive."

He nodded. "I know. I really did just forget. I'll set alarms on my phone. I'm sorry for making you worry, Daddy."

"Good." I pressed another kiss to his temple. "That's a smart solution. And it's okay. You're completely forgiven now, little boy."

We stayed that way for a long time, his weight a comforting presence in my arms, his breathing syncing with mine. Eventually, he shifted, wincing slightly as his tender backside made contact with my thigh.

"So, I'm really forgiven?" he asked, a hint of his usual mischief creeping back into his voice.

"Completely," I assured him. "That's how this works. You break a rule, you face the consequence, and then it's over. Clean slate."

He considered this, his head tilted slightly. "That's... kind of nice, actually. Knowing exactly what happens, and when it's done, it's really done."

"That's the point," I said, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Consistency. Predictability. Safety."

He nodded, settling back against my chest, exhausted, but looking content.

Chapter 21. Florian

The sun felt heavy and warm on the back of my neck. Around me, Knox’s garden was insane. Roses, jasmine, and a hundred flowers that I could not begin to describe.

I ran my highlighter over a paragraph about structural functionalism, the neon yellow ink bleeding slightly into the expensive paper of the textbook. I had three books open in a semicircle around me, a cold brew coffee sweating on a stone coaster, and absolutely nowhere else I needed to be. I was doing research for an actual paper I wanted to write with Evans. Knox even said that if I wanted to transfer from Community College to somewhere fancier, I should. But I liked it there. It gave me everything I had. I could do my Master’s somewhere else.

For a moment, the sheer luxury of it caught in my throat. Not long ago at all, "studying" meant reading by the light of a streetlamp filtering through a grimy window while my stomach ate itself. Now, I was worrying about GPA and thesis statements. I was a student. I was safe. I was Knox’s boy.

I leaned back, stretching my arms over my head until my spine popped. The breeze ruffled the pages of my notebook. I felt dangerously happy. It was a fragile thing, this happiness. I was terrified that if I breathed too hard, it would pop, and I’d wake up on a cot in the shelter with my backpack stolen again.

Having tasted poverty, I wondered how ethical it was for someone to have this much money while others starved. I'd asked Knox once if it bothered him, having this much while others had nothing. He'd told me his advisors thought he gave too much away. That had been enough for me. Also, he genuinely just had a good, kind heart. After all, he rescuedme. Someone who could never repay him in a million years. Someone who had nothing to give him but love.

He could be sure of one thing: I loved him more than anything. More than I could put into words.

My phone buzzed against the glass tabletop.

I froze. The happy bubble didn't pop, but it shivered violently.

I knew who it was before I even looked. The screen lit up:Finn.

He’d been calling for three days. Texting, too. Strings of desperate pleas that I had ruthlessly swiped away.Need help. Sick. Pls Florry. Pick up.You're the only one I have. That last one hurt. I never had anyone, not even him, and I was the child in this.

I stared at the phone as it vibrated, watching it inch across the glass. The "Do Not Disturb" function Knox had suggested I use was off; I was waiting for Knox to tell me he was on his way home.

Another buzz.

Ignore it,a voice in my head whispered. It sounded like Luna.He’s a leech. He’ll drain you dry and ask for seconds.

But then another voice, younger and stupider, whimpered,What if he’s dying? What if this is the one time he’s telling the truth? He took care of you after mom left. He didn’t know how, but he tried his best.

I picked up the phone. My thumb hovered over the red icon. Then, cursing my own weakness, I slid it to green.

"Hello?"

"Florry?"

The sound of his voice made my stomach drop. It was thin, reedy. It sounded like air escaping a punctured tire.