One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(94)

Knox pounded on the glass of the driver’s side window with the side of his fist, over and over, relishing the shot of pain radiating up his arm until his thirst for destruction grew. He grabbed his pocketknife and without extending the blade, pounded the window with the hilt until the safety glass shattered into a flimsy sheet of tiny beads.

“Fuck you, Dad. You coward.” He tipped his head back and bellowed directly at the heavens. “Me coming here was never about getting justice for what the family did to me or Mom or Shayla or Wade. This was all about you, you selfish son of a bitch. And not even for a real fucking reason. You used me to get revenge on your brother for sleeping with your girlfriend! Of all the goddamn things! But you know what? I’m not your goon anymore. I’m not Ty’s goon, either. You all lied to me. Every last one of you.”

He cleared the broken glass with the knife hilt, then picked the shards off his seat and got behind the wheel. The truck started on the first try. He threw it into gear, then barreled down the hill in the direction of his house. He was so far out of control that the road was blurry, but he kept his foot pressed on the gas pedal all the way down. What was a little danger now, after everything? He had nothing left to care about anyway. The resort was going to be sold off, Emily was going to hate him, and his family had screwed him over in the worst possible way.

“How am I going to face Mom?” he growled, strangling the steering wheel in his grip. “Did you think about that, Dad? How am I going to look at her and not hate her for this? She’s my mother, goddamn it. How can our relationship ever recover?”

In one mighty swoop, he’d lost his mother, his father, his career. Everything he held dear.

It was all gone. He hit the steering wheel with his open palm and ground his teeth together, fighting the urge to scream.

At the lake, Knox stopped at the very same place the truck had backed into the water on Knox’s first day at the resort. Leaving the engine on, he rolled the passenger window down, shifted into neutral, and stepped out. “Is this what you wanted all along, Dad? Is this what you were going for? Holding me back, taking what I cared about? Ruining my fucking life?”

The words echoed off the surrounding hills. Somewhere nearby, a flock of birds took flight.

“I worshipped you, old man.” A bubble of hysterical laughter escaped his throat. “And you’re not even my father. You’re my goddamn uncle.”

With that, he gave the truck a shove, putting all his weight into it until the wheels rolled forward. As it had that first day, the truck gathered momentum down the hill to the lakeshore. It splashed into the water and kept rolling. And like last time, much to Knox’s anger, the wheels snagged on the rocks. Another bubble of hysterical laughter had Knox doubling over. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

He dropped to the ground and took off his boots, then shimmied out of his pants, ready to brave the cold water to finish the job he’d started and push the truck all the way under. He had one foot in the water when the sound of splashing as a fish jumped out of water caught his attention. Phantom.

Yes.

That would satisfy his howling thirst for destruction far better than trying to dislodge the truck from the rocks. With his mind nothing but a storm of rage and hurt, he ran up his driveway and into the kitchen. Emily had caught Phantom’s attention with Fritos, so that’s what Knox would use. He found a partial bag in the pantry, then raced to the boathouse and threw his fishing gear into the rowboat.

It felt good, being at the top of the food chain again. Controlling the outcome, instead of playing the chump. Maybe he’d burn the boathouse down after this, rid it of his dad’s carved name, that symbol of innocent boyhood before betrayal and vengeance had poisoned his life and the lives of his children.

After so much hard work and planning, Knox had nothing to show for all his ambition. Healy was right; the resort was a money pit, the land beneath it worth more than the business ever could be. It was time to stop fighting fate. It was time to give up on the resort and walk away to start fresh somewhere else. Maybe razing the buildings down to nothing was the answer. Maybe then, Knox would find the peace that had eluded him all his life.

*

The hospital room’s clock struck eleven, but Emily was anything but tired as she sat in a chair in Carina’s hospital room, holding the most perfect little human being she’d ever seen. Samuel James Decker, born at one p.m. and clocking in at eight pounds right on the dot. Eight pounds that Emily liked to believe she had a lot to do with.

Throughout the afternoon, she’d kept her distance from Ty, watching him with his family from afar and waiting for them to leave before slipping into Carina’s room. Hence, why she was still there long after visiting hours had ended, rocking in the slider next to Carina’s bed, holding the baby while Carina dozed. The whole world seemed to go quiet, save for the whir of machinery and muffled nurses’ voices from the hall.

Decker returned to the room with a cup of coffee in a paper cup. He smiled at Emily behind a thick coat of stubble, then crossed the room and perched on the glider arm.

Emily would never forget the sight of Decker’s tears or the look of fear on his face when the baby’s heartbeat couldn’t be detected. One of the strongest men she’d ever met brought to his knees in terror, and then again in reverence at the sight of his son in the NICU, where he’d been taken for observation, though all his vitals were normal and he clearly had a healthy set of lungs on him.