Worth It (Forbidden Men #6)(94)

I hoped an accusation like that would draw out an explanation, and his eyes did widen as if he couldn’t believe I’d ask such a thing. Honestly, I couldn’t believe it either, but I was willing to try anything to get him to crack.

“You make it sound like some grand laid-out plot, like I killed him on purpose.”

Praying I was on the right track with this line of questioning, I shrugged.

“Well, it’s a little hard to believe otherwise. He’d just been transferred to Statesburg from some prison in Florida where he’d shot someone and tried to kill his ex-girlfriend just days before your attack. But, oh, if you’re trying to tell me it was all a coincidence, that you accidentally took his life, then you’re going to need a little more to convince me.”

“I didn’t even know who he was,” he growled in a low voice.

The emotion in his eyes was broiling; he was getting so close to just letting it all bubble over. So I snorted as if I totally didn’t buy that. “Excuse me if I still don’t believe you. But his father was the reason you went to prison.”

“No.” His voice rose. “Your father is the reason I went to prison. That guy was just his lawyer and doing his job. I had no idea the punk was his son.”

“But I told you Jeremy’s name. I talked to you about how creepy he was. And you just, what, forgot about that?”

“I never heard his name,” Knox bit out. “I’d never seen him inside or outside the prison before that day. They don’t exactly have meet and greets for new inmates.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

“I told you I didn’t f*cking know who he was!”

I jumped, startled by his roar, even though I’d been inciting it for the past few minutes. I still wasn’t expecting it.

The veins bulged in his neck and his breath was coming in unsteady pants. His fingers flexed over and over, reminding me of the damage he’d made in the break room the night he’d kissed me. Realizing he was nearly at that point again, because I’d pushed too hard, I pressed my hands against my heart in regret and whispered, “Then tell me what really happened.”

His lashes fluttered as if he just realized I’d been playing him and knew I didn’t think he was a cold-blooded killer. Huffing out a breath, he backed away from me. “I can’t tell you what happened to me in there.”

I sent him a hopeful little smile. “Okay. Not now. But maybe someday.”

He shook his head, looking haunted. “No. Never.” Whirling away, he tore out of the apartment, leaving me standing there and feeling like the crappiest piece of slime ever for pushing him so hard.





“So what did you do on your actual birthday? Did your family do anything for you?”

My lashes fluttered open as Knox’s question echoed through his chest and into my ear, where I had my cheek pressed against his heartbeat. After we brought each other to climax, he’d sunk to the ground, settling me in his lap. Now we held each other while the warm afternoon lulled us into a coma-like state.

“Mmm?” I murmured before motioning to the heart etched into wood above our heads. “Nothing as amazing as that.”

“But they did something for you, right?”

It was beyond me why he was so eager to talk instead of cuddle today. It had worried me at first—I’d been afraid he’d moved on and found someone else. But now that I was here in his arms, losing him was the last concern I had.

“Of course, they did something.” I rolled my eyes. “My mother is the queen of party planning. She loves having a reason to celebrate pretty much anything. She catered in lobster, and they had some of their closest friends over.”

“Lobster?” Knox snorted. “Nice to hear they got all your favorite foods.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me. “And did you say their closest friends?”

I nodded. “Some of my father’s coworkers, Mother’s fellow charity planners and families, their lawyer—”

“Their lawyer? Did he bring his skeevy son? What’s his name? Jeremy?”

“Yeah.” I sighed and curled closer to him. “He was there too.”

He began to stroke my hair. “He didn’t try anything with you, did he?”

“No. He just teased me about being sixteen and never been kissed.”

“The ass. Wait, why’d he think you’d never been kissed if the last time he saw you, he accused you of being sexually active?”

“Probably because I set him straight about all that the day he accused me.” I lazily drew the words I love you on his chest with my finger.

“I love you too.” Pressing a kiss to my temple, he asked, “And he didn’t try to kiss you himself?”

I shook my head. “No.”

His fingers found my hair. “Good. Did you get any good presents?”

Clenching my teeth, I wished he hadn’t asked that. So I mumbled the answer, hoping he dropped it. Except he frowned and lowered his ear to my mouth. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said I got a car,” I muttered on a sigh.

His eyes widened. “Holy shit! Really? A car? What kind?”

I looked up at him nervously. “You aren’t mad?”

“What?” He blinked and frowned. “Why the hell would I be mad?”