Page 14 of A Smile Full of Lies (Secrets of Stonewood #1)

Chapter

Ten

KNOX

The second she opened the door, I stepped inside.

The air hit me like a slap — warm, stale, wrong. No fridge hum. No overhead light. Just the beam of my flashlight cutting through the dark, catching on shadows and the glint of thawing ice leaking from her freezer. I took one look around and saw everything I needed to see.

Time to bring her home with me… finally.

“You’ve been living like this?” I asked, voice low and tight.

She flinched, just slightly. She opened her mouth like she might lie, so I didn’t give her the chance.

“Where’s your bag?”

Her brow creased.

“Knox—”

“Where. Is. It.”

I didn’t wait for her to answer. I was already heading down the hall, lighting the way. I knew this house. I’d walked these rooms before she even trusted me to be inside. I’d gotten her grandmother to the hospital before the stroke finished her off.

And now she thought suffering in silence was the play, rather than coming to me?

Dragging her home with me kicking and screaming it is, I guess.

The bedroom was too dark. I lit the corner where the closet sat, then flicked the beam over the old dresser to the side of the closet.

Half its drawers were open and a stack of folded clothes sat on top of it.

Sparse. Like she’d stopped functioning from grief and couldn’t quite bring herself to put the folded clothes in the drawers.

She stepped into her bedroom behind me, small and quiet and stubborn as hell.

“I didn’t want to be a burden?—”

“You’re not,” I snapped, not even looking at her. “But this? You struggling like this is fucking unacceptable, Ros.”

Her silence said everything. I didn’t give her time to argue.

“You’re moving in with me until your money situation is straightened out.”

She hesitated for half a second — just long enough to piss me off more — before moving toward the dresser. She paused and turned, grabbing a duffel bag from under the bed, then started folding clothes into it. Too neatly. Like if she focused hard enough, I’d disappear.

I didn’t. I wasn’t fucking going anywhere. I’d allowed this to happen, so she’d have no choice but to move in with me, and I wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to play it any other way.

I grabbed her charger off the nightstand, looped it tight, and shoved it into her bag. Then I pulled her favorite Final Girl hoodie from the back of her desk chair. She always wore this one to our weekly movie nights. It still smelled like her shampoo.

She kept her eyes down, quiet and embarrassed, refusing to meet my gaze. It fucking gutted me.

She didn’t want me to see the empty fridge or the barely-there wardrobe that said she’d been scraping by with very little for far longer than I realized, before I’d decided to use it as leverage to get her under my roof.

“You should’ve used your spare key to my house,” I said, my voice quieter now, but still sharp. “You could have gone to my place. That’s what it’s there for.”

She zipped the duffel bag without looking up.

“You weren’t home.”

I turned to face her, letting that sink in.

“I don’t give a fuck if I was home or not, you still should have let yourself in and made yourself at home.”

Her head lifted and she frowned at me, shaking her head like she was confused.

I stared her down.

“You’re always welcome in my house. You should’ve gone next door the second your power got cut off.”

Her expression crumpled. Just a flicker. But it was enough to make me want to break something. Preferably every man who’d ever made her feel like asking for help meant she was weak.

She moved to sling the duffel bag over her shoulder. I caught the strap and took it from her without asking.

“Let’s go,” I said, already walking.

There wasn’t a goddamn thing left in this house she needed tonight, and it was time she realized that. It was past time for her to realize that all she really needed was me.

The grass was soft underfoot, still damp from the late-afternoon humidity that hadn’t burned off before sunset. The coastal October air clung to us: thick, unseasonably warm, and too still. The weather hadn’t gotten cold yet. It was just heavy, like everything else tonight.

Ros walked beside me, arms crossed tight like she was bracing against more than just the too-warm weather. Her clothes clung to her skin in places, and she kept her gaze locked straight ahead, jaw tense.

I aimed the flashlight low, guiding the way like she didn’t already know every inch of this walk. From her front door to mine only took thirty steps, give or take a few. We’d been walking that same path back and forth since we were eighteen.

Seven fucking years of easy rituals and quiet routines, and still, she hadn’t thought to come to me.

“You’re mad,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Damn right I’m mad.”

She tensed and stifled a gusty sigh. Not afraid. Just… ashamed. Like she was the one who’d done something wrong.

I ran a hand down my face and tried to keep my voice level.

“It’s not just that you didn’t tell me. It’s that you thought you had to handle it alone.”

“I didn’t want to be any trouble.”

I stopped walking. She slowed beside me. I turned to face her. Even in the dim light, I could see the exhaustion carved into her expression.

“I’ve been your neighbor for seven years, Ros. How could you possibly think I wouldn’t look out for you? How could you think, even for one second, that I wouldn’t want to take care of you?”

She didn’t have an answer for me, but her eyes went glossy and her lip trembled.

“You’re not a burden, Ros. You’re mine to protect.” The words slipped out before I could catch them, but I didn’t take them back. “Now come on. It’s too damn muggy to stand out here arguing.”

I pushed the front door open and stepped aside, letting her cross the threshold first. She hesitated for a second, like she was still trying to decide if this was a good idea.

It wasn’t, but I didn’t give a fuck.

Inside, the air was pleasantly cool, humming with low music from the kitchen speakers I’d forgotten to turn off earlier.

Jazz, something moody. The scent of cedar and clean laundry drifted through the space.

I kept things neat, making sure my space was organized and calm.

I had to. It was the only way to choke out the noise in my head.

She stepped inside like she didn’t belong here, like she thought she was intruding. I hated it.

“This way,” I said, guiding her down the hall, to the guest bedroom on the left. She’d slept here before, but only once. It was years ago, shortly after the frat house incident.

“You can shower first,” I told her. “Towels are clean. My shampoo’s better than yours, anyway.”

Ros’s mouth twitched. She almost gave me a smile. Almost. She shook her head and disappeared into the guest bathroom without a word.

As soon as I heard the water turn on, I exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours. My hands were still clenched into fists. I flexed them open and stretched out the ache in my fingers.

Then I walked back next door and grabbed her laptop off the coffee table in her living room.

I brought it back and took it straight to the kitchen and plugged it in.

I got her phone and phone charger out of her bag and plugged those in, too.

I needed to do something, anything to keep myself occupied and moving.

Anything to keep me from storming back down that hallway, pulling her out of that bathroom, and making her understand she didn’t get to hide shit from me ever again.

The laptop screen flickered to life, and everything changed.

The second her laptop lit up, it offered me an opportunity on a silver platter. Her emails were pulled up to that same fucking thread with Nina Frost. The subject line with my name in it stuck out like a sore thumb.

Exclusive Opportunity – Philip Knox.

I’d read the emails before, days ago, in her dark, silent house while she slept like a fucking angel down the hall. Back then, it gutted me, watching her crumble under bills and still refuse to use me… refuse to sell me out. That had done something to me then… it still was.

But now? Now it was a gift because this time, I didn’t have to justify anything or come up with a cover story so I could approach Ros about the Nina situation.

The screen had opened on its own. No hacking. No lying. No lines crossed. Just a flick of the screen, and there it was, a perfect excuse wrapped in good timing and righteous fury.

I leaned one hand against the counter, eyes scanning the thread I had already memorized. Nina’s pitch felt even filthier the second time around, trying to get Ros to use me like I was a commodity… like my family’s murder was just another cash grab.

But then her reply, sweet and firm and so goddamn good it made my chest ache.

He’s a friend, and I respect his privacy.

Goddamn right you do, baby.

I swallowed hard. My jaw clenched so tight it ached.

She was still in the shower. The water still running, and I was just standing there; half-hard, furious, and absolutely fucking wrecked by the fact that this girl, this woman who wouldn’t even let herself crash in my guest room without a fight, had gone to bat for me without expecting a damn thing in return.

She had no idea she’d handed me the perfect opening, and I was going to take it.

I left the laptop open on the counter and let the email thread sit there, bold and damning in the soft glow of the screen.

The subject line stared back at me like a challenge — Exclusive Opportunity – Philip Knox.

It was too fucking perfect because now, when she walked in?

I wouldn’t need to ask any questions. Wouldn’t need to dig or twist the knife.

All I’d have to do was point , and I could finally hear her say it out loud.

The water was still running in the bathroom. Steam curling down the hallway, mixing with the warm air, wrapping around me like a chokehold. I couldn’t sit still. I was vibrating with it: rage, shame, and something darker I didn’t want to name.