Things We Never Got Over (Knockemout Book 1)

“This can’t be a coincidence,” I observed.

“Knox called the cops,” Lucian said, nodding at Nash. “And the cops called me.”

Nash skimmed me with a look. “You all right?”

“I’m fine. Why are you here?”

Nash blew out a breath, his gaze moving on to Lina. She arched an eyebrow at him.

“We’re babysitting,” he said finally.

My mouth dropped open. “We don’t need babysitters. Especially not babysitters who are just going to report everything we say back to Knox.”

“I hate to point out the obvious, but given everything that’s happened, I don’t think you should be out unprotected like this,” Nash said.

“Who said I’m unprotected? Lina just nearly pierced a man’s sternum with her stilettos,” I complained. “How did you find us?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Lucian said without looking away from Sloane, who was glaring at him like he was Satan incarnate.

“You’ve got to be a Morgan,” Lina said, resting her elbows on the bar and giving Nash a head-to-toe sweep.

“Lina, this is Nash. Knox’s brother,” I said.

“On that note, I think I’ll be heading home,” Sloane said, sliding off her stool. She didn’t get far. Lucian stepped in on her, trapping her between the bar and his body without touching her.

She tilted her head all the way back to look up at him.

She was a foot shorter than the man, but that didn’t stop Sloane from shooting ninja throwing stars out of her eyeballs.

“You’ll stay,” he insisted darkly.

“I’m going,” she argued.

“I count three empty glasses on the bar in front of you. You’ll stay.”

“I’ll call a rideshare. Now get out of my way before I make you sing soprano.”

Lina gave up ogling Nash and leaned over my shoulder. “Okay. What’s their story?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell anyone.”

“Ooooh. I love a torrid secret past,” she said.

“We can hear you,” Sloane said dryly without breaking her sexy staring contest with Lucian.

“We’re all friends here,” I began.

“No, we’re not,” Lucian insisted.

Sloane’s eyes blazed, making her look like a fiery pixie about to commit a homicide. “Finally. Something we agree on.”

My phone vibrated at Sloane’s elbow. Seconds later, Lina’s phone signaled a text. Nash and Lucian both reached for their pockets at the same time.

“For someone who doesn’t care about you, Knox sure seems concerned about how you’re doing,” Lina said, holding up her phone again.

“And what you’re saying about him,” Lucian said with a smirk.

I shook my head. “I think I’m gonna share that ride with Sloane.”

“No!” Lina grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of ruining your day. Stay. We’ll get more drinks. Talk more shit.

And everyone who stays has to swear a blood oath they won’t report back to Knox.”

“I’m not staying if he’s staying,” Sloane said, shooting a murderous look at Lucian.

“And the only way you’re leaving is in my car, so sit down and order some goddamn food,” Lucian ordered.

Sloane opened her mouth, and for a second, I was worried she was going to bite him.

I clapped a hand over her mouth. “Let’s get some nachos and another round of drinks.”

MISSED CALLS: Knox 4.

“No fair! You said they were off-limits, Joel,” a drunkard with a skullcap and tattoos under his eyes complained from one of the pool tables when we sat down at a table with Lucian and Nash.

Joel flipped him the middle finger while our babysitters shared a look.

“See? I told you we didn’t need babysitters. We have Silver Fox Joel,” I said.

“Maybe we just want to spend some quality time with you,” Nash said, giving me the patented Morgan grin of sexiness.

I sighed hard enough to blow a napkin across the table.

“What’s wrong, Nae?” Sloane asked.

I thought about it for a beat. “Everything,” I answered finally.

“Everything is wrong or broken or a mess. I used to have a plan. I used to have it all together. I know you guys might not believe this, but people didn’t use to break into my house. I didn’t have to fend off ex-fiancés or worry about the example I was setting for an eleven-year-old going on thirty.”

I looked around the table at their concerned faces.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forget the words came out of my face.”

Sloane pointed a finger in my face. “Stop that.”

I picked up my glass of water and blew bubbles in it. “Stop what?”

“Stop acting like you don’t have the right to express your own feelings.”

Lina, looking stone sober despite the fact that she was on her fourth scotch, knocked her knuckles on the table. “Hear, hear. What’s up with that?”

“She’s the good twin,” Sloane explained. “Her sister sucks and put the family through the wringer. So Naomi made it her life mission to be the good kid and not inconvenience anyone with things like her feelings or her wants and needs.”

“Hey! Mean!” I complained.

She squeezed my hand. “I speak the truth with love.”

“I’m new here,” Lina said, “but wouldn’t it be a good idea to show your niece what a strong, independent woman looks like when she lives her life?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” I groaned. “You know what I did for me? Just me?”

“What did you do?” Lucian asked kindly. I noticed that his chair was angled toward Sloane, crowding her almost protectively.

“Knox. I did Knox just for me. I wanted to feel good and forget about the hurricane of crap for just one night. And look what happened! He warned me.

He told me not to get attached. That there was no chance at a future. And I still fell for him. What is wrong with me?”

“Care to chime in here, gentlemen,” Lina suggested.

The men exchanged another look full of manly meaning.

“I can hear them mentally going through the Man Code appendix,” I whispered.

Nash wearily scraped his hand through his hair. It was a gesture that reminded me of his brother. “Are you okay? Do you need to rest?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Naomi.”

“Nash got shot,” Sloane explained to Lina.

Her assessing gaze slid over him as if she could see through his clothing down to his skin. “That sucks,” she said, lifting her glass to take a sip.

“Not one of my favorite experiences,” he admitted. “Naomi, you’ve gotta stop wondering what’s wrong with you or what you did wrong and understand the problem is with Knox.”

“Agreed,” Lucian said.

“Look, we lost a lot when we were kids. That can fuck with some people’s heads,” Nash said.

Lina studied him with interest. “What did it do to yours?”

His grin was a flash of humor. “I’m a lot smarter than my brother.”

She looked at me. “See? No one wants to be real and put their baggage on the table.”

“When you trust someone to see you for who you really are, the betrayal is a thousand times worse than if you hadn’t handed them the weapons in the first place,” Lucian spoke quietly.

I heard Sloane’s sharp intake of breath.

Nash must have picked up on it too, because he changed the subject.

“So, Lina. What brings you to town?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

“What are you, a cop?” she joked.

I found that very amusing. Sloane found me spraying a fine mist of water over the table just as amusing, and we both dissolved into giggles.

A ghost of a smile played on Lucian’s lips.

“Nash is a cop,” I told Lina. “He’s the cop. The big, important one.”

She eyed him over the rim of her glass. “Interesting.”

“What did bring you to town?” I asked her.

“Found myself with some time off and I was in the area. Thought I’d pay my old friend a visit,” she said.

“What do you do?” Sloane asked.

Lina ran her finger through a water ring on the table. “I’m in insurance.

I’d tell you more, but it’s incredibly boring. Not nearly as exciting as getting shot. How did it happen?” she asked Nash.

He shrugged his good shoulder. “Traffic stop gone bad.”

“They catch who did it?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Lucian answered.

The chill in his tone had a shiver running down my spine.

“I’M GOING to hit the restroom,” I said.

“I’ll come,” Sloane volunteered, jumping out of her chair like it was electrocuting her.

I followed her into the gloomy hallway, but when she held the door open for me, Nash stopped me. “You got a second?” he asked.

My bladder was nearing the red zone, but this sounded important.

“Sure,” I said, signaling to Sloane to commence peeing without me.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m looking into the list you gave me,” he said. “I’m not officially back on duty, but that just means this is getting my undivided attention.”

“I appreciate that, Nash,” I said, giving his arm a squeeze. It wasn’t a crime to appreciate the muscle, right?

“If you remember any other details about this red-haired guy, you’ll let me know?”

“Sure,” I said, my head bobbing. “I only talked to him that one time. But he stands out in a crowd. Muscular, tattooed, bright red hair.”

Nash’s eyes got a funny faraway look to them.

“Are you okay?” I asked again.

He gave an almost imperceptible head shake. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Do you think he could have something to do with the break-in?”

Nash did the Morgan nervous tic of running his hand through his hair.

“He’s a wild card, and I don’t like wild cards. This guy just happens to show up at the library to talk to you.”

“He said he needed help with a computer problem.”

He nodded, and I could see him rearranging puzzle pieces in his head, trying to find the pattern. “Then you see him in the bar the night someone breaks into your place. That’s not a coincidence.”

I shivered.

“I just keep hoping, whoever they were, they found whatever they were looking for. If they found it, there’s no reason to come back.”

“I hope so too,” he said. “Did you talk to Waylay about it?”

“I did finally. She took it pretty well. She was more concerned about whether any of her new clothes were stolen than the break-in itself. She didn’t seem to know what Tina or anyone else would have been looking for. I mean, it’s not like we had a pallet of stolen TVs sitting around in the living room.”

“Been thinking,” Nash said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “It doesn’t have to be stolen goods. If Tina was bragging about a big payday it could have been a different kind of job.”

“Like what?”

“People get paid to do a lot of shit. Maybe she gave up on moving stolen property and got mixed up in something else. Maybe they got their hands on information that someone else wanted. Or that someone didn’t want anyone else to know.”

“How does someone lose or hide information?”

He smiled sweetly at me. “Not everyone’s as organized as you are, honey.”

“If this whole thing is about something Tina was irresponsible enough to lose, I am going to be pissed,” I told him. “She went through nine house keys.

Nine. And don’t even get me started on the car keys.”

His smile stayed fixed in place. “It’s gonna be all right, Naomi. I promise you.”

I nodded. But I couldn’t stop thinking of all the ways Tina had managed to hurt me despite my parents’ best efforts. How were a small-town police department and a wounded chief supposed to protect us?

And then it hit me. Maybe it was time for me to start standing up for myself.

Nash leaned against the wall. His expression gave nothing away, but I was willing to bet money that he was in pain.

“There is something I wanted to ask you,” he said, looking serious.

“There is?” I croaked. Sure, Nash was as unfairly gorgeous as his jerk of a brother. He certainly had a more amiable personality. And he was great with kids. Great with Waylay. But if he asked me out just days after his brother, I was going to have to let him down easy.

I had zero headspace for another Morgan brother and I needed to focus on my niece and the guardianship.

“You mind if I have a word with Waylay?” he asked.

I jolted, rewinding his words to see if I’d somehow missed the dinner invitation. Nope. “Waylay? Why?”

“I might ask the right question and help her remember something important from before her mom left. She knows Tina better than any of us.”

I bristled. “Do you think she has something to do with this?”

“No, honey. I don’t. But I know what it’s like to be a kid who keeps quiet, plays things close to the vest.”

I could see that about him. Knox was the “stand up and pitch a fit about a problem” kind of guy. On the outside Nash was Mr. Nice Guy, but there was a quiet depth there, and I wondered what secrets lurked beneath that surface.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But I’d like to be with you when you do talk to her.

She’s finally starting to trust me. To open up to me. So I want to be there.”

“Absolutely.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and I thought about what a good guy he was. Then I wished it was Knox’s fingers in my hair. And then I got mad all over again.

The restroom door opened, and Sloane walked out. More accurately, she stumbled. I caught her, and she smiled up at me and squished my cheeks between her hands. “You are sooooo pretty!”

“I’ll escort this one back to the table,” Nash volunteered.

“You’re really pretty too, Nash,” Sloane said.

“I know. It’s a curse, Sloaney Bologna.”

“Aww. You remember,” she crooned as he led her back to the bar.

I stepped into the ladies’ room and decided it was not a room I wanted to linger in. So I made quick work of taking care of business and then ducked back into the hall. There were no babysitters lurking, so I pulled out my phone and opened my email.

Glancing over my shoulder to make sure Lucian or Nash hadn’t materialized, I started a new message.

To: Tina

From: Naomi

Subject: What you’re looking for

Tina,

I don’t know what you’re looking for. But if it gets you out of my life, I’ll help you find it. Tell me what I’m looking for and how I can get it to you.

N

If I could find whatever it was Tina wanted first, I’d have the leverage I needed to get her out of my life. If it wasn’t something like nuclear codes, I could let her have it or I could at least use it as bait to lure her out of hiding.

I waited for the tiny pinprick of guilt. But it never came. I was still waiting when my phone rang in my hand.

Knox Morgan.

I didn’t know if it was the Fireball or all the pitying pep talks, but I felt more than ready to take charge. Squaring my shoulders, I answered the call.

“What?”

“Naomi? Thank God.” He sounded relieved.

“What do you want, Knox?”

“Look, I don’t know what Lina told you, but this wasn’t what you think.”

“What I think,” I said, cutting him off, “is that your love life is none of my business.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.”

“I’ll be any damn way I want to be, and you have no say in it. You need to stop texting and calling. We’re over. You walked.”

“Naomi, just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I don’t want you safe.”

His voice, the rawness in it, went straight to my chest. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“That’s very chivalrous of you, but I don’t need you to keep me safe.

There’s a whole other line of defense in place. You’re officially free. Enjoy it.”

“Daze, I don’t know how to make you understand.”

“That’s just it, Knox. I do understand. I understand that you cared, and it scared you. I understand that Waylay and I weren’t reward enough to get you to face that fear. I get it. I’m dealing. You made the call, now you have to deal with the consequences. But I’m not like Lina. I’m not going to insist on being friends. In fact, consider this my notice. Tomorrow night is my last shift at Honky Tonk. Just because we live in the same damn small town doesn’t mean we have to see each other all the damn time.”

“Naomi, this isn’t what I wanted.”

“Honestly, I don’t care what you want. For once, I’m thinking about what I want. Now stop calling. Stop texting. Call off your babysitters and let me live my life. Because you’re no longer a part of it.”

“Look. If this is about what I said about you and Nash, I apologize. He told me—”

“I’m going to stop you right there before you call me your leftovers again. I don’t care what you say or think about me and any man I might choose to see. I don’t need your opinions or your half-assed apologies. Who apologizes by saying ‘I apologize’?” I demanded, making sure my imitation of him was far from flattering.

There was silence on the other end, and for a second I’d hoped he’d hung up on me.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asked.

I held the phone up to my face and screamed into it.

I heard the scrape of chairs, and moments later Lucian and Nash were standing in the mouth of the hallway. I held up a finger to keep them at bay.

“I suggest you lose this number because if you call me again I won’t make Waylay give your dog back.”

“Naomi—”

I hung up and stuffed the phone into my pocket. “Can one of you give me a ride home? I have a headache.”

But it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.