Page 102 of Hard Bargain

Dominic nodded once. “Grant will be downstairs in two minutes.”

* * *

Knox eased his pace before unlocking the apartment door, aware of Grant behind him without turning around. The thought of someone else witnessing this sat wrong in his chest, but it was too late to worry about it now.

He pushed the door open and they stepped inside. “Mom?”

No answer.

She was on the couch, curled in on herself, a blanket pulled around her even though the apartment was too warm. The cigarette in her hand had burned down to the filter, ash long and bending, but she hadn’t moved to tap it.

Her eyes flicked toward him when he entered. “You’re back,” she said, voice distant.

“Yeah.” He kept his voice even. “Told you I would be.”

Her gaze drifted past him and landed on Grant. No sharp reaction this time, just a faint crease in her brow, like it cost her to process the information. “Who’s that?”

“Just someone who drove me,” Knox said. “He’s not staying.”

Her eyes slipped away again, back to the TV. Knox moved closer, stepping into her line of sight. “You eat anything?”

A small shake of her head.

“When was the last time?”

Nothing. She shifted slightly under the blanket and didn’t answer.

Knox swallowed, forcing his tone to stay light. “You need to eat. And you need to take your medicine.”

“I’m not hungry.” The words fell flat, stripped of any trace of feeling.

Knox stood there, looking at her. He always hated this more than the yelling, more than the paranoia. At least those gave him something to push against. This was like she was already halfway gone and he was just standing in the room she’d left. “I’ll make you something,” he said.

No response. He turned toward the kitchen without waiting for one. Behind him, Grant stood partway into the apartment, taking it all in.

Knox didn’t look at him. He didn’t want to see what his life looked like from the outside. Didn’t want to see it reflected back at him through someone else’s eyes.

He opened the fridge. There wasn’t much; he’d been meaning to get groceries but the days had gotten away from him. He gathered what little he had and put together something simple she might manage a few bites of.

He exhaled through his nose and glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve got it,” he said.

Grant held his gaze for a moment, then gave a short nod. “Alright.” Quiet steps carried him to the door, the lock clicked, and then he was gone.

Knox turned back to the counter and stared at nothing. The silence that settled around him was heavier than it had any right to be. He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the counter, his head dropping.

Yeah. This was it. The life he hated. The way it pressed down on him the second there was no one else to see it, heavy and suffocating and completely, relentlessly his.

He stayed like that for a moment, then straightened and forced a deep breath into his lungs. He shoved the turmoil down, burying it so deep it couldn’t reach the surface. Standing still only made it worse, and nothing would change unless he kept moving.

He plated the food and walked back to the living room. She hadn’t moved: same position, same distant look. “Mom.” He stepped closer. “You need to eat.” He crouched in front of her, setting the plate on the table within reach.

“I’m not hungry,” she murmured.

He breathed out slowly through his nose. His patience was thinning at the edges, but he held his voice steady. “I know. Just a few bites.”

A small shake of her head. “I can’t.”

He watched her, something tightening in his chest. It wasn’t anger, not really, just the same familiar frustration that never had anywhere to go. “I know you don’t feel like it, but you have to try anyway.”