Page 13 of Knox (The Devil’s Luck MC #6)

KNOX

I woke feeling like I’d been crammed into a box too small for my six-foot-four body by an unforgiving god as punishment for something.

It wasn’t far off from reality.

The box was my old man’s Ford. The unforgiving god was Caroline Bates.

Raindrops plunked down overhead in a steady rhythm. The forest was dark and dreary. I checked my watch. It was nine in the morning.

“Damn,” I groaned, wishing I could’ve slept the entire day away as I stretched out as much as I could.

I was lying across both seats of the cab.

My bones creaked and cracked like firecrackers.

“I’m too old for this shit,” I muttered to myself, sitting up and struggling to fit my arms back into my jacket that I’d used as a sad excuse for a blanket.

“A grown man sleeping in his truck ‘cause he’s being chivalrous to let an entitled princess sleep in the bed. Unbelievable. Why can’t honor be more comfortable?

” I squinted at my reflection and declared myself sleep-deprived but ruggedly handsome.

I scrubbed at my jaw, the bristles scraping.

“Still looks like I took a fucking beating. I would’ve won against that bastard.

Can’t bear to think of what he would’ve done to?—”

Knuckles rapped on the driver’s side window.

My gun appeared in my hand so fast I didn’t remember grabbing it from the floor. Bears were known to roam around. If one of those giant furballs started rocking my truck?—

Caroline was standing there holding up two middle fingers. “Wake up, jackass.”

“Why couldn’t you be a bear?” My muscles uncoiled, and I set the gun down, cracking the window so I could hear her better. “I could’ve shot you.”

“And I could’ve stabbed you with this.” Caroline held up the knife that I kept in one of the trailer drawers. “You would have been buried in the mud hours ago.”

I grunted but was unable to hide my smirk at the actual humor in her voice. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had rifled through every inch and corner of the trailer. “Don’t flatter yourself, spitfire. Back up.”

She stepped back when I opened the door. Pins and needles went through my whole body. My head felt stuffed with cotton—a mild hangover and whatever internal damage that perv gave me. “Shit. How’re you standing straight?”

“Because I have a goal,” she said matter-of-factly, stroking her thumb along the knife’s bone handle. “And nothing will stop me from achieving it. This is gorgeous. What kind of metal is this?”

I got out of the car, shaking off the rest of the mostly sleepless night. “It’s—Well, you look better.”

Caroline did raid the trailer. She wore the spare clothes and used womanly sorcery to tie, twist, or tuck them into a fashionable outfit, making the shirt, pants, and jacket fit perfectly rather than just looking like a woman swallowed by men’s baggy clothing.

Her hair was tied in its brutal ponytail by a rubber band.

Her forehead bruise and split lip looked less brutal.

I couldn’t see her wrists from the long sleeves, but I hoped she’d managed to tend to those more, too.

Bottom line: she looked good. Real good in my old clothes.

Caroline tipped her head to the side curiously. “Of course I look better than I did in captivity. You, on the other hand look like roadkill.”

I chuckled under my breath and shut the truck door to start pulling out the manual awning to keep us dry. “It’s Damascus steel. The blade. My father’s.”

Caroline raised a manicured brow. “Your deadbeat dad had a Damascus steel knife?”

“Harlon Knox stole a Damascus steel knife,” I said.

The awning creaked as much as my aching bones did.

Forest bits slid off, and rain started to plink on the old tarp.

Caroline joined me underneath to look out at the miles of damp greenery around us.

“Not sure from whom or when, but I remember seeing it on the kitchen counter. Soon as I reached for the pretty thing, he saw me, snatched it out of my hand, and cut us both.”

I held out my left hand to show her the scar on my palm. She sucked in a quiet but sharp breath.

“It’s definitely not a showpiece. When he died, I found it stashed under his pillow. Now it’s a gun backup. Do you want to use it?”

Caroline looked up at me in surprise. “Use it?” Then a wicked light gleamed in her eyes. They were the same blue as a gas flame—pretty but deadly. “If you want a Wolverine to stab you, Royal Flush, you don’t need to ask.”

I laughed again. She was different today.

Lighter, snarkier without being defensive.

Like she wanted joking banter, not death-threat banter.

I liked this new version of her. It was probably fragile and had some kind of limit, so even though I wanted to, I didn’t push my luck asking if she was still horny for a piece of Knox ass.

“Usually I like to eat a balanced breakfast before a stabbing,” I said.

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “What’s your idea of a balanced breakfast? Beer with burnt pancakes?”

“You have absolutely no faith in me, woman,” I said with mock hurt, going into the trailer and bringing out a box of stale, off-brand cereal. “These crunchy babies and an apple.” I paused, then added, “Maybe an energy drink or two. Now, you want to use the knife or what?”

I opened the cereal and pulled the plastic bag out as an invitation for her to cut it open.

Once Caroline realized that, she rolled those pretty eyes, but there wasn’t real annoyance in it. “You’re such a guy .” She sighed, stepping forward to saw an opening in the bag. The smell of cornflakes joined the fresh rain scent. “Can I ask what happened to your dad?”

“If you join me for my balanced meal.” I produced bowls, spoons, water bottles, and different folding chairs that didn’t make her anxious. “Minus milk and energy drinks.”

Caroline hesitated, watching me move around.

She still wasn’t keen on letting others help her, even if this was just common decency.

Before I sat, I held out my hand for the knife.

Suddenly, the world narrowed to just us and my scarred palm.

She met my eyes. I saw her breath catch and realized I had stopped breathing.

This was a moment. Something was happening between us.

I didn’t know what exactly, but it ended with her placing the knife in my hand.

Trust.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

The softness still made her startle. She nodded hastily and sat down, snatching the bowl from my other hand. She covered her conflicting feelings with a retort. “This is a far cry from the truffle-oil eggs Benedict on brioche with hand-carved Iberico ham I used to have every morning.”

I froze halfway through pouring her cereal. “Seriously?”

Caroline snorted. “Of course not, you dunce.”

“You got a sharp tongue, spitfire,” I said, chuckling at my own gullibility. “Quick-thinking silver tongue.”

“Please,” she said around a mouthful of dry-ass cornflakes. “Compliment me more.”

I was really tempted to, with her looking like that.

I munched on my own cereal, impressed that she didn’t complain about the excuse for a meal. Then I remembered this was all a means to an end. My smile dimmed a bit.

“Dad was…” I began. Caroline stopped crunching. “Dad got involved with wrong crowd after wrong crowd. One night, his bad decisions bit him in the ass. I was twenty.”

“That sucks.”

“Nah,” I said with a quick grin. “He deserved it for all the shit he did to me, to himself, everything. I mean, thanks to him, we got this.” I nodded at the trailer and pickup truck. “Harlon was smart enough to leave a will. Despite how much he resented me, he still left me everything.”

For a few minutes, Caroline and I ate in silence. The forest was peaceful. A far cry from bloody MC business in the chaos of Reno.

“I can’t imagine a life without my father.”

Caroline’s voice was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it over the patter of rain. A snide remark came to mind, but I knew now wasn’t the time, so all I said was, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said absently. “And that’s why I need to get out of Dodge.” Her eyes flicked to mine. They burned with intensity. “I need you to drive me to the nearest bus station. I have a route in mind.”

“Ah, so we’re switching to business talk.

Nice segue.” I didn’t let disappointment enter my tone.

Was I wrong to have thought she wasn’t as keen on hightailing it out of Reno?

I leaned back in the chair, watching her.

“But at this point, I bet Bates has eyes everywhere for you, even half an hour away.”

Caroline crossed her arms. “I’m aware. He’s always three steps ahead of everything. I’m not na?ve enough to think this will be easy. But I have to try. I have my own tricks up my sleeve—don’t roll your eyes at me, you dick. He doesn’t know everything I’m capable of.”

“Sorry.” I couldn’t help but laugh, raising my hands in surrender.

“If what you just said is true, he’ll predict all your tricks.

Bates didn’t get where he is by being outwitted by his own kid.

If you want to run, spitfire, you need to be under the radar.

Unexpected. Everything your daddy wouldn’t think of. ”

“I’m not his kid anymore,” she said sharply. “I’m my own person, and I know how to?—”

I was treading dangerous waters now. Proceed with caution when a Wolverine is close. “Okay, okay. Still doesn’t change the fact that if you try to take the bus, you’re walking into a trap.”

Caroline slumped in the camping chair. “So what, buzzkill? You got a better idea?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah. A limo.”

Caroline blinked in disbelief. “A limo ? You serious?”

“Tinted windows,” I told her as if it were the most obvious solution in the world. “Quiet service. No branding. Nobody looks twice at a limo rolling through Reno. We’re not Vegas, but we still got tourists who need rides.”

Her mouth quirked like she wanted to dismiss it but couldn’t. “I’m aware of our locale. That sounds too easy, Knox.”

I leaned forward, bracing my arms on my thighs, giving her my signature cocky grin. “Simple doesn’t mean stupid. Sometimes it means smart.”

Caroline looked like she wanted to argue, but I could tell she was chewing on the idea. She didn’t want to admit it was a possibility she had overlooked.

I got to my feet and stretched with an exaggerated groan. “All right. Let’s go catch that bus. Pack a lunch. I got plenty of cereal and maybe a few granola bars. Hope you don’t get kidnapped. Remember, hitchhiking is illegal.”

“Shut up,” she snapped halfheartedly. “I didn’t say it was a bad idea. I’m just… thinking. Anything that feels too easy almost never goes as planned.”

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and started looking up local limousine services. “I’ll get you one now.”

Caroline bristled. “How many times do I need to tell you I don’t need your help? I’m not a charity case.”

“Don’t think you are, spitfire.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine,” I promised with the full intent not to , “but let me ask you this: do you have money to pay for the bus?”

She said nothing. Her silence spoke louder than any argument.

I fought a grin. “I didn’t think so.” I tapped the final button on my phone. “There. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Caroline narrowed her eyes. “What did you do, Knox?”

I sat back down, leaning back and going full man-spreading. “Good news first. Your limo service is booked, and it’ll take you wherever your little heart and your scheming mind want to go. The bad news? It won’t come until tomorrow morning.”