Page 41 of Sunrise (Monarch Club #3)

Knox

Vault’s text comes through just as I’m cleaning my station at closing.

Vault : She’s out like a light in D’s old room at the club. I’m staying with her.

Next comes a photo of my man lying on the floor with his arm tucked behind his head, and a tired smile on his handsome face.

I stare at the photo for far too long.

Alex has aged well. I bet he’ll be the hottest silver fox ever in a couple more decades.

Knox : Are you two okay?

Vault : Yeah, just beat. I stayed by her side all night. It was good.

I’m glad. She deserves to have one or both of us always at her beck and call, keeping her safe and happy.

As badly as I want to be with them, it’s probably a good thing we’re getting this unexpected break.

I need time to process what’s happened, and so do they.

Not that any of the actions or secrets spilled lately changes a fucking thing.

I love them both and what’s transpired recently has only deepened my affections.

But we need a breather. And sleep.

Knox : Good night, Alex .

I shoot him a selfie of me standing by the stove in my chef coat. The desire to type I love you is strong, but I hold back.

Vault : I love you, Knox.

The phone slips out of my hand, crashes to the tiled floor, and shatters the screen.

Shit!

Quickly picking it up doesn’t save it from total ruin. The screen looks like a spider web of broken glass. No matter how hard I try, the thing’s too busted to work. I can’t even make a phone call.

Fucking figures. Vault uses his words for once and I leave him on read. Just my luck.

After locking up, I drag my tired ass upstairs and say good night to the manager who oversees the Vinyl Club and head outside. City summer heat smacks me in the face, along with the unmistakable stench of vomit and hot garbage. Lovely. Someone’s puked against the side of my building.

No matter how much I’ve changed the inside of this club, the moment I step outside always feels the same way it did back when I was a kid.

I still get this wonky sense of direction for a moment, as if I’ve stepped out of one fantasy world and into another.

It’s disorienting. I blame it on flashbacks of when shit was terrible in my childhood.

Back when Alex and I first broke up, and I popped pills like fucking candy to forget I existed.

But every time I stepped out of these front doors, my excruciating heartache would roar to life because I had to face reality again.

That’s all in the past though. If you ask me, I’d say my reality is looking pretty motherfucking good now.

Rubbing the back of my sore neck, I cross the street to where I parked my bike.

BEEP!

I freeze like a deer caught in the headlights, as a car races straight at me. It swerves while I lunge out of the way, and I roll across the asphalt.

Holy shit. I think I just shit myself.

Wait. No. I’m good. I just landed in a goddamn puddle.

Heart racing, I gather my scattered wits and stand up. The car’s already gone, leaving me too stunned to speak. My hands tremble when I put my helmet on and fasten it. Sweet Jeebus, I almost just died.

That would have been so annoying.

Revving my engine, it takes a lot of focus to get myself in gear and onto the road. Adrenaline and exhaustion do not mix well with near-death experiences and summer heat. By the time I make it home, I trip up my steps and stumble inside.

Home sweet home .

The candles and flowers are still out from when Vault and I were trying to surprise Sophie. That feels like it was a million years ago.

I collapse face down on my mattress. Dirty, head-fucked, and hungry, sleep takes me.

???

The sound of my front door slamming shut jars me from my sleep. Blurry eyed and confused, I shoot up in a panic, freeze, and listen for an intruder.

“Knox. You here?”

It’s Dmitri.

“Yeah.” I collapse back on the bed and shut my eyes again.

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t think you’d still be asleep,” he says from my doorway. “Christ, you look like shit.”

If I had the energy to flip him off, I would. Slowly rolling up to sit on the edge of the bed, I lick my cracked lips. My mouth is dry. Eyes are itchy and swollen. Everything is blurry and bright, and I don’t like it. “What time is it?”

“Two in the afternoon.”

“Damn.” Scratching my head, I get a whiff of myself and nearly gag.

“Rough night?”

“ Long night.”

“Why are you so filthy?”

“Almost got ran over leaving the restaurant. Fell into a puddle on the street.”

“There’s blood all over your sheets and pillow.”

Shit. There is?

Come to think of it, my elbow stings like a motherfucker. I look down to see most of my skin has been scraped off and there’s dried blood all over my arm. Lovely. “I passed out before cleaning myself up. It’s been me and four hours of sleep against the world lately. I think I lost that round.”

“Want coffee?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, D.” Of course, I want his coffee. Nothing compares to it, and he won’t tell anyone how he makes it.

“Get cleaned up, and I’ll have it ready when you get out here.”

“Thanks, man.” Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and scrub my face. My eyes close again. Sleep almost sucks me back under, but the clanking of mugs makes me jolt. “I’m up. I’m up.”

Habit has me reaching for my cell, only it’s not where I usually keep it. Oh yeah, it busted last night. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull it out and see it’s not just broken, but dead, too.

“You been to the Monarch yet today?” I call out, wondering if he’s seen Vault or Sophie.

“No, I was heading in after this. The Butterfly Ceremony is tonight, and Ry wants us all there early.”

Every bone in my body screams when I stand up and stretch. I need to get back to the gym. Do more stretches. Damn, I hurt. Dragging my sorry ass into the bathroom feels like it takes forever.

My reflection gives me a goddamn jump scare.

Holy shit, I look worn down, red-eyed, and rough.

A spitting image of my father.

The notion makes my stomach drop and spurs me into action.

I’m never going to be like him, nor do I even want to look like him.

While the shower heats up, I shave and brush my teeth.

My first step under the hot spray has me sighing loudly.

After a double shampoo and conditioning, I lather my body with soap and scrub, scrub, scrub.

Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. My elbow stings like a bitch when I clean it with soap, but it doesn’t look like I need stitches.

I’ve had road rash worse than this and survived.

Once satisfied I’ve de-funked enough, and run out of hot water, I dry off and wrap a towel around my waist.

D waits in the living room with our coffees while I get dressed.

Aw, he’s stripped my bed for me, too.

“I put your sheets in the wash,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee .

Sitting next to him on the couch, I groan from the ache in my bones. “I’m too young to feel this old.”

“You need to slow down, man. Splitting yourself in so many directions isn’t sustainable.”

I know, but it’s my only option. “It’s just a job and a home life, like everyone else.”

“No. You have a demanding job, a home life, a love life, and a father to take care of.”

I haven’t gone to visit my pops in a couple months. “He’s doing alright on his own for once.”

Dmitri doesn’t say anything more about it and neither do I.

After I bought the club from my father and turned it into something amazing with the help of my friends, he’s really pulled away from me.

Whether it’s jealousy, frustration, or just plain meanness, doesn’t matter.

I’ve decided to not let it get to me. Besides, D’s right, I don’t have time for my old man’s bullshit.

If he blows all his money gambling, or on booze and strippers, that’s on him. He’s not my responsibility anymore.

“You want me to make some lunch?”

“I want you to put something on that elbow before it gets infected.”

“I will after I finish this coffee.”

We fall into comfortable silence. My eyelids grow heavy again.

“You do all this for Soph?” he asks, ripping me out of my half sleep. Some of the coffee spills on my gym shorts and white t-shirt.

“Yeah.” I wipe off my clothes, not that it helps. “Vault put it together. We didn’t get a chance to bring her back here, though.”

It feels like a lifetime ago when we came up with our silly woo-the-girl plan. The flowers have been deprived of water long enough to wilt.

“Ry said she’s had some trouble at her day job.”

Nosy bastard .

“Yeah.” I’m not sure how much to share, and really, I don’t have a good grip on the events that happened at her work. “She was pretty upset.”

“What’s being done about it?”

Of course, he wants to be in on the action. Sadly, we can’t bully her boss into giving Sophie her job back. Our girl’s occupation is way out of our reach.

“She’ll handle it,” I say confidently. There’s no way she’s going to let what happened slide. “She just needs a minute to breathe before she gets back into the fight.”

D falls quiet again. There’s a book on the coffee table that he borrowed last week.

“Did you like it?” I gesture at the half-naked man chiseled to perfection on the cover.

“Yeah. It was a good twist at the end. Can I borrow the next one?”

“Of course.” I love that I got him addicted to reading romance. No one would guess that Dmitri is into vampire porn. Or maybe they would. He’d make an excellent fanged, morally grey hero. “Take the whole series. Trust me, you won’t want to wait to dive into book three.”

D collects the other six off my shelf. “We have the Butterfly Ceremony tonight,” he says cautiously, resting his fresh stack of reads on my coffee table.

“So?”

“You coming?”

“Why would I?” It’s not like I ever have before. Besides, I have work at Midnight Run.

“Just wondering.” He sits back down next to me. “Want me to wrap your elbow?”

Shit, I forgot about that again. “No, I got it.”

He ignores me and grabs my first aid bin from my bathroom. I love that he knows where everything is here. I love that my friends feel at home in my house. I love that we always take care of each other.

“Let me see it.” Dmitri inspects my elbow. “Not too bad. I think you’ll live.”

“Huzzah.”

He quickly bandages me all up, which makes me smile because this is like déjà vu for the two of us. “You’re so good at this.”

“Lots of practice.” He easily tapes the bandage in place.

D and I both came from similar backgrounds in the way that we had an abusive parent. We’ve been patching each other up since we were kids. He taught me how to stitch wounds closed. Someone else we know taught me how to perform small surgeries like flesh wound bullet removal.

“Why should I go to the Butterfly Ceremony?” I ask, unable to shake the feeling that he’s trying to tell me something without saying it. It’s the second time he’s mentioned it.

“I just figured you would, is all.”

“Why?”

He pins me with his icy blue eyes. “They’re dominants, Knox. Tonight, the Butterfly gets to choose who will be with them for the month.”

Pretty sure the blood rushes out of my head.

I always knew that part about the Butterfly Ceremony, but never really put too much stock into it because it’s not my circus.

I’m sure Vault’s a popular choice, and Sophie’s roster is always filled.

I’ve handled my jealousy because I’m not there to see it.

Out of sight, out of mind, ya know? Besides, we’ve never been exclusive.

Are we exclusive now?

“It’s their choice,” I say, masking my sudden surge of insecurity. “If they want to be with the Butterfly, I can’t stop them.”

A month without either of them, or both, will be a nightmare. Pure torture.

My stomach hurts now.

“You need to have some big discussions, Knox.”

He’s right, but isn’t it too soon for this much bullshit? Damnit, can’t I enjoy heaven a little longer before Hell takes over?

“She loves being a Domme.” I down more of my coffee. “And I have no doubt Vault is very good at being a stone top.”

Dmitri sighs. He used to be with Butterflies too until Daelyn came into his life. He only works security now, and sometimes walks the halls in a Dom persona, but it’s all for show. Not for sale.

Can I share Sophie and Vault with a stranger? Yes. I’ve done it a bunch of times over the past two years.

But I don’t want to share anymore.

I want them all for myself.

“We’re too new with each other for me to be territorial.” I drain my cup. “And they’ve been dominating at the Monarch the whole time we’ve been together so far. It’s not a big deal.”

“That was before. Now it’s after.”

He’s right. Again.

Before , I took what I could get and wasn’t in a position to make demands. After this past week with them, however, if we don’t clearly communicate our expectations with each other, everything’s going to go to shit, and I’ll lose them both.

“If it makes her happy, I’ll deal with it.”

“And Vault?” D looks over at me. “What about sharing him?”

My stomach twists harder. “I’m willing to accept whatever decision he makes for himself.”

Hasn’t that always been my MO? Whatever Vault wants, he gets. No matter how much it fucking hurts me.

He’s not going to put himself out there now.

I know that much. But I can’t shake the horrible thoughts consuming my brain about Sophie.

I don’t want to share her with anyone but Vault.

And I can’t tell her that. It’s not my place to make demands and put up boundaries in our relationship.

She loves being a Domme. There’s no way on this green earth I’d take that from her. She’s lost enough already.

“Fuck.” I lean forward and bury my face in my hands.

“Tell them exactly how you feel, man. You can’t let them do what they want and then get pissed about it afterwards because you were too afraid to speak up. They’re not going to kick you out of the throuple for being honest.”

How dare he call me out like this? I haven’t even had a second cup of coffee.

“What would you do?” I look over at him and wait for sage advice. He doesn’t give any. “D, what would you do? Seriously. I can’t lose either of them. I only just got to the good part.”

“Like I said…” He stands up and gathers his books. “Have a very open and honest conversation wi th them.” Dread weighs me down as Dmitri heads for the door. “If it’s any consolation, she’s not as happy as you think.”

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

“What did I do wrong?” I ask as all my insecurities crawl out and take over.

Dmitri shakes his head. “Knox, you never do anything wrong. Maybe it’s not about you . Ever think of that?”

“No.” Because everything always feels like it’s my fault. Ever since I was a kid, if something went wrong, I took the blame and suffered the consequences that came with it. “If I’m not the problem, what is?”