Page 47 of Knox's Boy

When I got back, I wiped him down. I forced him to sip the blue Gatorade, holding the cup to his cracked lips while his hands shook. I wiped the grime from the nightstand. I opened the window a crack to let the smoke out and the smog in.

I was exhausted. My back ached from bending over the low bed. My beautiful sweater smelled like the room now. I felt grimy. I was afraid soap alone wouldn't be enough to wash this off.

I sat in the plastic chair, watching Finn sleep. His breathing was a wet rattle, uneven and terrifying.

Why am I doing this?I asked myself.

But I knew why. Because if I didn't, I was just like him. And because part of me, the stupid, damaged part, still thought he was my father… someone who stayed while mom left.

I checked my phone for the hundredth time.

On my way, Knox had texted twenty minutes ago.Traffic is heavy. Hold tight.

I held the phone to my chest. I needed him. I needed his clean scent, his hands, his absolute authority. I felt like I was drowning in the soup of my past, and Knox was the only solid ground left in the universe.

"Florry..." Finn stirred, his voice rasping. "My stomach... I need..."

I stood up, weary down to my bones, to help him to the bathroom again. "I've got you," I lied. I didn't have him. I barely had myself.

The door swung open, and Knox stood in the threshold, framed by the dark of the parking lot. He was a vision from another world with his blue suit that cost more than this entire motel. He looked like a king who had taken a wrong turn into a fucking sewer. His eyes swept the room, the trash bags I’d filled, the empty Gatorade bottles, the stains on the carpet, before locking onto me. His gaze softened when he saw me.

"Oh, Florian," he said, his voice low. He stepped inside. "Look at you. Are you alright, baby?"

I looked down at myself. My jeans were stained with water and God knows what else. I felt a crushing wave of shame. "I’m okay, Daddy," I whispered, momentarily forgetting my father there on the bed.

"Who the hell is that?"

The rasp came from the bed. Finn had pushed himself up, his eyes squinting against the dim light. He stared at Knox. His bloodshot eyes widened, his gaze darting between us. "Daddy?" he echoed, the word twisting into something ugly. He struggled to push himself upright, one trembling finger jabbing toward Knox. "That what you call him? Your... daddy?"

“He's my partner, dad,” I said. Finn looked appalled. He knew I was gay and had known it forever. He had better things to care about, so he never said anything when I brought boys over to his place when we lived together. But now he seemed feverish and furious.

"What the fuck?! He’s my son! You’re just some... some sick old freak playing house with a boy half your age!"

I stepped between them, my hands raised. "Dad, stop. He’s here to help."

"I don't want him touching you, Florry! Look at him! He’s old enough to be your actual father. Like me!"

"He’s the only one who takes care of me, which is more than you ever did!" I screamed. “Where were you when I got evicted? Where were you when I was sleeping in a shelter? I needed you. I needed you my whole life, and you were never there. Mom and you. You only care about booze and yourself."

Finn flinched as if I’d slapped him. But then his face twisted. "I’m your father!" he roared, lunging forward. He stumbled, catching himself on the nightstand, but his momentum carried him toward me, hand raised, whether to grab or hit, I didn't know.

I flinched, bracing for impact.

But it never came.

Knox moved. One moment he was beside me, the next he was a wall between me and Finn. He simply stood there with so much authority that Finn retreated.

"Do not," Knox said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, "take another step toward him."

Finn stopped, panting, his eyes wide. He looked at Knox and saw what I saw: not money, but a dangerous, disciplined power that Finn’s chaotic rage couldn't touch.

Finn's shoulders slumped. "That boy belongs with me," he wheezed through yellowed teeth, though his eyes had already surrendered.

Knox's jaw tightened. "No," he said. "He belongs somewhere safe. You failed him."

He reached for his phone, tapping a single button. "Kyle. Room 12. Bring the team."

Two men in dark suits appeared in the doorway seconds later.