All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(55)

“Or strangle me,” she muttered.

He didn’t look happy to see her. Her chest tightened as she recalled that phone call last week. He hadn’t said the words directly but she’d understood his meaning. Have a good life. She’d heard it in his voice. In his good-bye. He was done with her. And now she had shown up here.

He was treating her to that same intense, unsmiling stare he had treated her to all those times he visited the HSU.

“Oh my. That body. He’s ripped. I can actually see the definition of his six-pack through his shirt. Girl, you better get all over that,” she hissed, her words ending right before he stopped at their table.

“Hey,” Briar greeted, her voice weak.

“Your beer.” He set a bottle in front of each of them, but his gaze trained on Briar with laserlike focus. It was almost like he didn’t quite recognize her. Or perhaps he simply couldn’t reconcile her presence here. In his world.

She had been in his world, on his turf, before. In the prison. Why was this so different? Even as she wondered that, she knew.

The balance of power had shifted. They weren’t in the prison any longer, where he lacked power. The beast was out of its cage and there was no telling what he would do. He could do anything. This was Knox unleashed.

“Hey,” Shelley announced, stretching out her hands to shake his. “I’m Shelley, Briar’s neighbor.”

He managed a polite nod as they shook hands. “Knox.” Then he was looking at Briar again.

“So this is where you work,” she said lamely, fingering her sweating bottle nervously.

The band suddenly started playing an old ACDC song, and it was even harder to hear. But that didn’t stop him from asking what was so clearly weighing on his mind. He leaned in to demand, “What are you doing here?”

What was she supposed to say? I came here to see you? That only smacked of desperation.

She shrugged. “Just felt like going out.” She nodded toward the stage. “Great band.”

He stared at her dubiously and she waited for him to call bullshit. He didn’t. Instead, he gestured to the bottles, all businesslike. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.”

She nodded dumbly.

“How about you have a drink with us?” Shelley cajoled. Trust her to cut right to the flirting. It was as natural as breathing to her.

“Can’t. I’m working.”

Shelley pouted, jutting out her bottom lip prettily and Briar felt a stab of jealousy as Knox studied her neighbor. Did Knox like what he saw? What wasn’t to like? Shelley was sultry and sexy. Two kids hadn’t altered her tiny size-two figure.

Shelley cocked her head, coyly twirling her hair. “Aw, you don’t get a break?”

Briar sucked in a breath, stifling the urge to face punch her.

“It’s pretty busy tonight and we’re short-staffed.”

Shelley brought her beer to her lips, talking against the bottle’s mouth as she pouted, “Oh, fine. But we’re going to need more beer soon, Knox. I hope you’ll bring them to us.”

“Sure. Just signal me.” Without a glance for Briar, he turned and headed back to his spot behind the bar.

“Hmm, now that’s a view.” Shelley cocked her head, admiring his ass as he walked away.

“Did you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Flirt like that!”

“He was about to leave. I was trying to keep him here longer. “

“Yeah, by hitting on him.”

She shrugged. “Well, you weren’t doing anything. Besides. You’ve been insisting that you don’t want to f*ck him again . . .”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to,” she shot back.

“Fine. Don’t be mad at me. You know I love you. I just got carried away. He’s so yummy.”

“Fine.” Briar supposed she could forgive her. She better than anyone understood Knox’s impact on the female’s senses, after all.

Shelley hopped down off the stool. “Let’s go dance.”

“What? I don’t dance—”

“You need to loosen up. C’mon. We’re here. Why not?”

They were here. And she had just told Knox they were here to have fun and listen to the band. Not stalk his ass. What was the harm in dancing with her friend?

“Okay.” Hopping down from her stool, she tipped her beer and finished it in a long gulp, taking it as fortification. Slamming the bottle down on the table, she met Shelley’s gaze. “Let’s do this.”





NINETEEN


BRIAR—HIS BRIAR—WAS WORKING it on the dance floor like it was something she did every Saturday night at Roscoe’s. Shit. Not his. Not his Briar.

She wasn’t one of the bar trolls who skulked in here night after night, seeking validation through booze and strange men pawing at her. She was the type who preferred a book or television to a wild night out. Knox liked that about her. He liked that every time he touched her, every time he kissed her, she looked faintly surprised. And he f*cking loved the sounds she made as she pulled him closer, urging him to do things to her he was positive no man had ever done before.

He wanted to be the only man to touch her. It was total caveman of him, but that’s what he was. A f*cking caveman that reveled in rocking her staid little world and making her fly apart. She made him want to pound his chest. Christ. Thinking about her that way was making him rock hard. Thankfully he was standing behind the bar where no one would notice.