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His scowl deepened. “What?” he said, his voice gritty and raspy and really deep.

“Umm…” I tried to say more, but nothing came. So I tried again. “I-I just…I wanted to thank you for, you know, helping me. So….” I bobbed my head nervously. “Thank you.”

He stared at me for a full second from eyes that looked nearly black. I held my breath, not sure what to do because he wasn’t responding. Then my gaze went to his scar, a single angry red slash bisecting the right side of his face, and I gulped.

There was something almost friendly and approachable about the scars Ten bore on his face. Maybe it was because he smiled so much. But there was nothing whatsoever approachable about this guy’s one dark mark. Yet, I wanted to approach, get closer, reach out and touch it, maybe kiss it better.

Exhaling a short breath, he gave a single nod, accepting my gratitude. Then he turned away and dismissed me. Just like that.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” I called after him, desperate to try anything to waylay him and figure out what was going on with me, why he affected me so oddly.

He slowed to a stop, but didn’t turn around. Instead, he grated, “Tight T-shirt Guy’s fine.”

“Oh, shit.” Wincing, I slapped my hand to my forehead. “You heard that?”

Not bothering to answer, he left, stalking out the door and disappearing.

I stared dumbly at the empty doorway, dazed by what had happened. But seriously, “Holy hell.”

“Is it just me,” Asher asked, appearing at my side as he also stared at the exit, “or does that guy make you want to piss yourself just a little bit?”

“It’s like you stole the words straight from my mouth,” I murmured distractedly.

Ten joined us, letting out a low whistle. “Damn, Three. You sure made some kind of first impression on Parker. I swear he was going to snap that chick’s neck for fucking with you.”

I swung my face around so fast to gape at him I gave myself whiplash. Not that I felt any pain; I was a bit too busy trying to decide if I’d heard him correctly.

“Parker?” There was no way he could’ve actually said Parker. I had to be hallucinating. I was drunk, my ears were conjuring crazy shit.

But Ten nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t you hear about the dude who took Blondie to the hospital after she went into labor?”

I frowned, trying to remember the details. “Noel said something about it. Zoey met him at a convenience store or something.”

“And after he dropped her off, he took her car to clean it. Pick and I intercepted him when he was returning it to the hospital. I was ready to kick his ass for touching her car, but Pick actually knew the fucker from school, and get this, he’d just gotten out of prison that day...for rape and murder. Can you fucking believe Pick still hired him after that?”

“No.” I shook my head, unable to believe anything I was hearing. “That’s not even possible.”

“I know! Pick’s usually all gung ho to protect everyone. Now he just up and tosses a murderer into the cage with us. What kind of shit is that?”

I wasn’t listening to him anymore, though. I’d turned back to stare at the last place I’d seen the stranger.

Shaking my head more urgently now, I whispered, “That wasn’t him. That couldn’t have been him.”

No way in hell had the man I’d just encountered been the same eighteen-year-old boy I’d fallen head over heels in love with six years ago. He couldn’t possibly have changed that much, grown that huge. The color of his eyes, the sound of his voice. None of it matched.

I frowned hard at Ten. “Are you trying to tell me that was Knox Parker?”

Knox couldn’t even be out of prison yet. He should still have over twenty years left, though okay, I’d stopped keeping tabs on his sentence two years ago when he’d murdered Jeremy. I’d given him up completely then. Or at least, that’s what I insisted to myself.

“How’d you know his first name?” Asher wondered as Ten lifted his eyebrows. “You actually know Parker?”

A loud screaming buzz filled my ears as the guys confirmed it.

I’d just seen Knox again for the first time in six years.

“Oh my God.” I scrambled toward the bar’s exit without thinking.

The guys called after me, but I kept moving. My brain was still trying to process what I’d just learned while my feet continued to run. I burst into the heavy, cool October night, breathing hard.

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