Page 56 of Knot Going Down (OlympicVerse #3)

DECLAN

A fter saying goodbye to what feels like my pack, I’m raw.

Frayed at the edges in a way I haven’t felt since Kyle died.

It’s not a death, not really. Not even a true goodbye.

But it’s enough of a rupture to leave a hollow space in my chest. Once I get Glenn behind bars, I’ll be pounding down Emily’s door and begging them all to let me bite them.

But not until the job is done. No promises until I’ve finished what I started.

In the meantime, I have Knox. Lucky me. The man is as despondent as I am.

“Stop whimpering or I’ll make you stop,” I snap as the cab pulls up to a narrow cul-de-sac, the kind with cracked sidewalks and mismatched mailboxes.

It slows in front of a small, single-story house with faded shutters and a postage-stamp lawn.

The grass is trimmed, even if it's more crabgrass than turf, and the porch has two matching chairs with sun-bleached cushions and a planter full of plastic tulips. There’s no luxury here—but there’s care. Pride.

“How you gonna do that, alpha?” Knox’s words are teasing, but the usual flirtation is gone. It’s all shadow underneath.

I lean in close, lips near his ear as I push the cab door open. “You know exactly how.”

His breath hitches, just enough. “Oh, does someone get horny when they’re sad?” Some of his lightness returns to his voice.

“I’m not sad.” I shove him to get out of the car. It would be easier to get out on my side, but for some reason, I don’t want to. I want to push him, control him, take out a little of my emotions on him.

“Well, I’m sad.” He stretches as he steps out, purposely slow and dramatic. “So let me whimper and lick my wounds in peace.”

I leave the cab after him, taking in the house where Knox lives with his parents.

Glenn’s daughter’s wedding is tomorrow, and I got us a hotel a few blocks away from the Plansky estate.

It can’t really be called a house. More of a compound with top security we wouldn’t be able to breach without the excuse of this wedding.

The best opportunity I’ve had to take him down.

That’s what I need to focus on, not the distance from my betas and my omega.

But before we could go to the hotel, Knox needed to pick up his tux, because apparently he gave Lucas back the one he wore on the ship. He also said he needed to pick up his gift for the bride and groom. I think he really just wanted to check on his family.

“This is your parents’ place?” I ask, more surprised than I mean to sound.

“No, it’s the Governor’s summer home,” Knox mutters. “Yes, this is it. Keep your manners on and your mouth shut.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen him genuinely uneasy. Not flirty. Not snarky. Just... braced.

I shoot him a sidelong look. “They don’t know anything?”

“Nope. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“So I’ll be playing the dutiful boyfriend again?”

“That okay?” He’s not joking anymore.

Instead of answering, I reach over and take his hand. “I’ll manage.”

Knox nods once.

The front door creaks when he opens it, and almost instantly, a voice calls from inside. “That you, baby?”

“Yeah, Ma. Just grabbing my tux.”

A woman appears in the front hallway a second later, apron tied tight over a patterned dress. She’s short and stocky, her dark hair graying at the temples, and her smile breaks across her face like sunshine through clouds.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone,” she says, eyes jumping to me with open curiosity.

“Last-minute decision,” Knox answers smoothly.

“Well, come in, both of you. I just started dinner.”

“We can’t stay long,” Knox tries, but she waves him off.

“Nonsense. I’ll pack you some leftovers at least. You still look too thin.”

I’m ushered inside before I can protest. The house smells like tomato sauce and fabric softener, the carpet’s been vacuumed into those tidy little lines, and every surface has a framed photo or knick knacks on it. It's nothing like the kind of life I grew up in. But it's real. And oddly comforting.

His dad is quiet, polite, the kind of man who speaks more with nods and raised eyebrows than with words.

But every so often, he says something dry and sharp that makes Knox bark out a laugh and his mother swat at his arm, telling him not to encourage the old man.

He’s got a not-quite-limp when he walks, like some old hurt still bothers him.

Knox’s sister, on the other hand, has claws and a wicked sense of humor.

She teases Knox mercilessly, dropping stories about him peeing his pants at a carnival without a hint of remorse.

He tries to shut her up, tossing napkins and muttering under his breath, but there’s no heat to it, only long-suffering affection.

She clearly adores him. Maybe even worships him a little, underneath the sarcasm.

It’s strange, watching him here. Stripped of his persona. Sitting at a scratched-up kitchen table with a bowl of salad in front of him, arguing about which pasta sauce is best, helping his mom open a stubborn jar, and bowing his head with a serious reverence when his dad says grace.

We eat. Meatballs and spaghetti, garlic bread that’s burnt around the edges but tastes like home, and too-sweet iced tea poured into cloudy plastic tumblers.

We laugh more than I expect.

And for a fleeting hour, we’re just two guys having dinner with family. Not an undercover agent and a once-criminal planning to infiltrate a criminal wedding. Not two alphas with more baggage than a broken airport carousel.

Just people.

But as soon as the front door shuts behind us again, the weight of it all crashes back down.

We take Knox’s car. While he drives, I pull out my phone, my thumb hovering over Emily’s contact for a few seconds before I finally tap it.

Knox drums his fingers on the steering wheel like he’s keeping time to a song only he can hear.

But I know it’s not music. It’s nerves. The closer we get to tomorrow, the tighter the coil of tension winds between us.

“Hey,” Emily answers on the second ring, her voice warm, soft in a way that makes something in my chest loosen. “How’s it going?”

I glance at Knox. “We survived dinner. His sister threatened to pull out childhood photos, so he bolted before dessert.”

She chuckles. “Sounds like he’s still alive, then. That’s a good sign.”

“How’s everyone else doing?” I ask, shifting gears as we ease through a yellow light. I don’t want to talk about the empty ache in my gut from leaving the others behind, so I focus on her instead.

“We’re okay,” she says after a pause. “Lucas is sad. Ava won’t admit she’s sad. I’m… functioning.”

My fingers tighten around the phone. “Tell them I miss them.”

“I will.”

There’s a stretch of quiet where neither of us says anything. We lived together on a cruise ship, but we’ve never really done a phone call. And definitely not one with something like this wedding hanging on the horizon.

“So how dangerous is tomorrow gonna be?” Emily asks.

I knew it was coming, but the words still hit like a gut punch. I flick a glance at Knox, who’s gone still beside me. Of course he heard her.

“Will you have backup or something?” she adds, her voice lower now, tinged with worry. I can almost picture her biting her thumbnail, pacing some room I’m not in.

“We’ll be fine,” I say, trying to sound confident, trying to sell it.

Knox looks over, his eyes catching mine in the dim light. We both taste the lie.

I sigh, jaw clenching. We’ll have backup, but I shouldn’t discuss details of an active case—even with the woman I love.

Woah. The woman I love? Yeah, I guess that tracks.

“We have it under control. If we do it right, we get Glenn, and no one gets hurt.”

“And if you don’t do it right?” Emily asks.

“Then we improvise.”

“Jesus, Dec,” Knox mutters.

Emily’s silence is heavier now. “Just promise me something.”

“Anything,” I say without hesitation.

“Put me on speakerphone. I want Knox to hear this too.”

I hesitate for only a beat before flipping the phone to speaker and holding it between us. We’re close enough that he’s heard every word, but I know better than to deny Emily anything.

“Alright, baby, he’s here.”

“Hey, sunshine,” Knox says, and though the smile is audible in his voice, it’s tired around the edges.

“Promise me you’ll look out for each other, okay?” Her words come out quiet but firm. “I don’t want you going into this dangerous situation when you don’t trust each other. If you’re going to take Glenn down, you need to be a team. And… well, the same goes for making this work.”

I know exactly what she means. Not just the job. The pack. The bond forming between all five of us. The realness of it. The risk of it. Whether or not Knox will be part of it.

We both murmur our compliance, and Emily makes kissing noises at both of us before she hangs up. Sweetheart.

My eyes find Knox’s as we stop at a light. His brows are furrowed, lips pressed in a line, but he doesn’t look away until the light turns green.

We ride the rest of the way in heavy silence.

Could I really pack up with a man like Knox Carrick? He’s reckless. Dangerous. A fucking flirt. But he’s also loyal. Fierce. Smarter than he lets on. We’ve clawed and snapped at each other since the day we met, but somehow that hasn’t burned the bridge between us. Instead, it built a connection.

By the time we pull into the hotel parking lot, I know what I need to do.

It’s time to put Knox Carrick to the test.