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“Thanks for the memories, HGP. It’s been real.”
All my fellow students stand, applauding me while I shake the principal’s hand and get my diploma. He moves the tassel from the right side to the left, and that’s when I know I did it. I made it through this crazy thing called high school, and so much more.
AS CAPS FLY IN the air, and everyone walks around hugging all their friends, I have eyes for only one person. Knox leans against the fence and looks like sex on legs. The minute his eyes meet mine, he rushes forward.
Picking me up, he spins the two of us around. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
He puts me down, and I give him a sad smile. “You’re not upset you don’t get to walk at graduation?”
“Nah,” he shrugs. “I don’t need all that traditional crap.”
After Knox’s surgery, it took him a while to recover, and by the time he was ready to go back to school, he was too far behind. He would’ve had to repeat part of his senior year, like Tessa, but instead, he opted to get his GED—something my father absolutely refuses to let Tess settle for. Plus, there was the issue of being charged with manslaughter…
I knock on the door, feeling anxious just being here. If it wasn’t absolutely necessary, I wouldn’t be. As soon as the door opens, Carter looks everything like the friend I’ve come to adore—no judgement or malice in his eyes.
“Hey.”
His face shows his concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Not exactly,” I murmur. “Can I come in?”
Nodding, he opens the door further and steps aside. The two of us go to sit on the couch and when it comes time to tell him why I’m there, my nerves get the better of me. Twenty years to life, Delaney.
“So, how’s Vaughn doing?”
I sigh heavily. “He’s okay, I guess. It’s a lot of trauma, emotionally and physically, but the doctors say he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Good,” he replies, genuinely meaning it. “I heard my dad talking to one of his colleagues about everything that happened. That’s intense.”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “It’s funny you mention it though, because that’s why I’m here.”
“Oh?” His expression almost sends me running out the door, but I’ll never know if I don’t ask.
I look down, messing with my sleeve. “I was wondering if you could talk to your dad about a plea deal.”
He throws his head back. It’s crazy, I know—asking him to do help someone he’s hated for years. Thankfully, Wyatt was able to get rid of the video before anyone in the FBI found it, but Jackson has personally witnessed the deaths of the men in the ring. If Knox gets found guilty, the four charges of manslaughter could put him away for a long time. I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens.
“Delaney, he’s killed people.”
“I know, and I’m not asking for him to get off with a slap on the wrist.” I explain. “But Carter, my life was being threatened.”
He takes a moment to think about it, and I can tell he doesn’t want to, but he reluctantly agrees. “I’ll see what I can do.”
By the grace of God, whatever Carter said to Mr. Trayland worked and Knox was offered a plea deal—four months of house arrest and fifty hours of community service. Leaving that courthouse, Knox shook Carter’s hand with an utmost respect—the long feud now completely behind them.
“Congratulations, Delaney.” Jackson says as he approaches, and his presence surprises me. I know Knox mentioned inviting him, but I never thought he’d actually come.
Since everything went down, Knox and Jackson have become close. Jackson was a key part in helping Knox get his strength back, and he still trains wi
th him today. At first, Knox was hesitant to let anyone that was associated with Cal in his life, but after we learned that it was Jackson who killed Paulo, he came around.
Apparently, Paulo had strict orders that day to not let either of us out of that room alive. Jackson overheard and tried to get him away from the door, allowing us to leave safely. Unfortunately, it only took seconds for Paulo to blow Jackson’s cover wide open. When Paulo went for his gun, Jackson had no choice but to take his life.
“Thank you.”
He looks to Knox. “I can’t stay, but we’re still on for tomorrow?”
“Yep. 7 a.m.”
