Page 59 of Knox's Boy

I accepted the keys.

"Daddy, I…” I tried saying something but nothing came out. "Can I… do I…" I fumbled, waving the key fob at him. "I mean, can I drive it? Like, right now?"

Knox's smile went crooked, a little bit wolfish. "If you don't, I'll be deeply disappointed. And maybe today I'll even overlook a speeding ticket."

"I doubt that! You'll punish me, grounding me like a little boy," I shot back, trying to keep my voice level.

He bent his head so that his lips grazed my ear. "Probably a spanking is better."

I laughed, loud.

The Jaguar's door opened, revealing an interior of cream leather. I slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool and buttery-soft against my back, and ran my hands over the steering wheel, completely fucking shocked. The cockpit wrapped around me. Knox folded his tall frame into the passenger seat beside me, his presence reassuring and nerve-wracking. This was no Honda Civic.

When I pressed the starter, the engine awoke with a growl that vibrated through the entire chassis. The dashboard lit up with a series of soft blue lights, numbers, and symbols appearing on sleek digital displays.

"Holy fuck," I whispered, and felt Knox's hand come to rest briefly on my thigh.

"Language," he said, but there was no real bite, just amusement. "Now, put it in drive. The paddle is just there, behind the wheel."

I reached for the paddle shifter with trembling fingers. The car seemed to crouch lower, tensing like a predator preparing to pounce.

"Easy on the accelerator," Knox cautioned as my foot hovered uncertainly. "It's more responsive than you're used to."

That was an understatement. The slightest pressure sent the Jaguar gliding forward, the engine's rumble deepening to a purr. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles whitened, terrified of doing something wrong, of scratching the perfect paint, of disappointing Knox with my inexperience.

"Relax your hands," Knox suggested, his voice calm. "Let it be an extension of you, not something you're fighting against. It can feel your tension."

I laughed and took a deep breath, consciously loosening my death grip on the wheel. We started moving slowly down the long driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires giving way to smooth asphalt as we reached the road.

"That's better," he said. "Take this curve gently. Feel how the car responds."

The road ahead curved to the right, flanked by ancient oaks. I eased into the turn. The Jaguar seemed to read my thoughts. Maybe it really was alive. The steering was incredibly responsive.

"Good," Knox murmured. "Very good. Now, when we reach that straightaway ahead, I want you to give it a little more gas. Just a little."

The tree-lined avenue opened up before us. I glanced at Knox. He nodded in encouragement. I pressed the accelerator with more confidence.

The response was immediate. Fucking intoxicating. The car surged forward, the engine note climbing to a higher, more urgent pitch. My body pressed back into the seat as the acceleration pushed against my chest, and a startled laugh escaped me. The speedometer climbed effortlessly, 40, 50, 60 miles per hour, each number triggering a fresh burst of adrenaline.

"God, it's so fast," I breathed, easing off the gas as we approached another gentle curve.

"You're handling it beautifully," Knox said, and when I dared a quick glance, I caught the full smile that transformed his usually stern face. It was a look of pure satisfaction, like he was experiencing something he was anticipating.

My confidence growing with each mile, I let myself relax into the experience.

Freedom. That's what this feeling was. Not just the speed or the luxury, but the pure joy of movement, of control, of capability. After years of having nothing that was truly mine, of being at the mercy of others' whims and limitations, this gift from Knox was… autonomy. This wasn’t just a car.

By the time we circled back toward the house, the sun was lower in the sky. I eased the Jaguar to a stop in front of the house, the engine settling. In the sudden quiet, I could hear my own heartbeat, still quick.

"Well?" Knox asked, watching me.

"That was..." I searched for words that could show what I meant. But there were none. Instead, I reached across the center and hugged him. "Thank you. Not just for the car, but for trusting me with it. For everything."

"You've earned that trust," he said simply.

I hugged him for a long time.

Chapter 27. Florian