Page 28 of Reese’s Protection

Paxton nodded and closed his notebook, slotting it back in his pocket. “If we have any follow-up questions, we’ll contact you. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Heagney, and if you remember anything, please call us. Be a bit more careful around firearms in the future.” He offered me a smile but gave Knox a sharp look, then left with his partner.

I lay back against the bed, exhaustion sweeping through me. I took another ice cube out of my cup before I gave it back to Knox. He set it on the bedside cabinet as he raised my hand that he was holding and laid a kiss on it.

“Don’t worry about them. They have nothing and never will.” He pressed a kiss to each of my knuckles. “And Jeremy won’t come near you ever again.”

I wanted to ask questions, but I knew it wouldn’t matter either way. When Knox handled a problem for good, then it wasn’t coming back. I’d heard rumors about him, especially with one of his friends being a King, but I’d never cared.

“Thank you.” I laid my forehead against his and closed my eyes, breathing in his minty scent. It hurt to inhale too deeply, but if it meant I got to smell him, I’d handle any amount of pain. “You saved my life.”

“Always. You’re family.” He tilted his head and laid his mouth over mine, and I happily accepted his gentle kiss, my stomach swirling with pleasure and the intoxication that came with him.

When he broke away, I whimpered.

“I like you a lot, Reese.”

“Really? We’ve only fucked once,” I said.

He laughed. “I liked you before we had sex and even before you sucked my dick.”

Layton groaned. “I’m still here.”

Knox ignored him. He cupped my face and caressed his thumbs over my cheekbones. “You look good on my bike.”

“A great reason to like me,” I teased. My heart did a somersault and my stomach joined it because I was a sucker when it came to the man in front of me.

A grin tipped up the corners of his mouth. “Definitely. Not everyone can pull that off.”

I chuckled. “So, uh, what does that mean for us now that Jeremy’s gone?”

He stroked his thumb down the length of my jaw and across my chin, careful and gentle, and I closed my eyes, basking in his touch. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better. Rest.”

“But—”

He cut me off by pressing his mouth against mine, and I whimpered as the ache began to spread through my chest again, reminding me of the injury I’d much rather forget.

“Later,” he whispered against my lips. “Sleep.”

I pouted but closed my eyes as he settled onto the bed beside me again. I cuddled up to his chest. At least now with Jeremy gone, there was a later, and it was all because of Knox and the Kings. I was going to send them a big thank-you bouquet when I got out of here.

10

KNOX

It had been about two months since one of the worst nights of my life. I smoothed my fingers across the wooden handcuffs I’d been putting the finishing touches on. I’d been crafting them for about a week. They functioned as a mini stockade in some ways. There was a silver hinge on the left-hand side. I’d carved fluffy birds cuddled into roses on both sides. The final touch on the woodwork was staining it a rich cherry. The leather that lined the insides of the wrist area was black and the straps that closed the cuffs matched. All in all, I’d created a gorgeous collector’s piece. I hadn’t gotten an order for the job; I’d just wanted to make them for some reason.

The cherry finish reminded me of blood, which inevitably sent my thoughts spiraling in the direction of gunshot wounds. I didn’t like to think about Reese getting hurt. I mean, who would? I didn’t try to block it out because shit happened and we had to deal with it, but I didn’t dwell on it, either.

Reese’s recovery wasn’t always easy. For one, he didn’t answer the door unless he knew exactly who was on the other side, but I figured that was fair. I didn’t ask him to be my butler, even if I knew Layton was on his way to the house or I had a client coming to pick up a piece.

Therapy wasn’t useful. I’d tried ACA—that adult children of alcoholics group—and I’d mostly just thought it was a cult, so I’d stopped after going twice. That whole thing had generally raised my suspicion levels for mental health professionals. But when Reese had decided he wanted to see someone to talk about Jeremy, I’d driven him there.

Who knows, maybe I was wrong about therapy.

He seemed less tense after about a month of going to see the woman, so she must be helping.

I still kept an eye on the situation, though. Talking to people I didn’t know about feelings had to be one of the inner circles of hell. One word from him, and I’d tell her to get fucked.

My face flushed at the thought. Or he could.