All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(80)

“Joining you and . . .” He extended his hand to Daniel. “Hello. Knox Callaghan.”

Daniel returned the handshake. “Daniel Ortega.”

“Joining you and Daniel,” he finished with an easy smile that was so unlike his usual austere self.

“Leave now, Knox!”

“Excuse me, what’s happening here?” Daniel gestured at the three of them.

“You see, Daniel,” Knox began, leaning back in his chair and draping an arm over the back of her chair. “I only think it’s fair to let you know up front that I’m in love with Briar. I messed things up, and she’s not ready to forgive me yet, but I’m going to do everything in my power to win her back.”

“It has nothing to do with forgiveness, you jackass. I just don’t want you. I don’t love you.”

Knox slanted a look at Daniel that was so knowing and smug that she wanted to scream. “I think she does.”

Daniel replaced the lid back on his cup. “I see,” he said, as though he did in fact see.

She reached for his arm. “Daniel, I’m so sorry. This is really embarrassing.”

“No, not at all. This stuff happens. It took me a long time to get over my ex and be ready to even date.” He pushed back his chair. “Clearly, you’re not in a place where you’re ready, Briar. Good luck.” He glanced at Knox. “Nice meeting you.”

Knox shook his hand again. “You, too.”

“I trust you can see she gets back home.”

“Not a problem.”

Briar gaped and then dropped her head into her hands. “This isn’t happening.” She looked up and glared at the back of Daniel as he walked away.

“Nice guy.”

She turned her wrath on Knox. “Yeah. He was. Thanks for screwing that up.”

Knox helped himself to one of the scones on the table. “C’mon. That would have gone nowhere. You still want me.”

“Stop saying that!” She grabbed her purse off the back of the chair. “I’m going home.” He stood and fell into step beside her as she hurried over the plank wood floor of the coffeehouse. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk.”

“Briar, it’s not even close. Don’t be so stubborn,” he said as they stepped out onto the parking lot.

She started toward the sidewalk, not even caring that he was right. She would walk the seven miles in these boots. She didn’t care. She was not climbing into his truck with him.

She kept moving, passing a group of three preppy-looking young men heading to the coffeehouse. One of them elbowed another one and nodded at her and Callaghan.

They just cleared the three men when one called out, “Callaghan!”

Knox stopped and turned. Curious, she stopped, too, and looked back.

The three men stood side by side, legs braced apart, anger bristling off them like wild dogs. “They let you out?”

Briar looked up at Knox. He was tense, the brackets around his mouth drawn tight. He immediately understood what this was. And so did she. These guys knew who he was and they clearly had an ax to grind. “That’s right.”

“We played football with Mason. They should have given you the death sentence for killing him.”

“Nope. Just eight years,” Knox returned, his bland voice in direction opposition to the tension radiating from him. He touched her arm and pulled her behind him.

“You with him?” one of the guys called out to her, his gaze direct and piercing. “You know he’s a murderer?”

Knox squeezed her arm, advising her to say nothing.

“We don’t want any trouble. We’re just leaving,” Knox said, sounding so very un-Knoxlike. Usually he’d be kicking ass by now.

“What the hell world we living in when a man like you can walk the streets free?”

Knox turned then, keeping her in front of him and guiding her toward the truck. She wasn’t about to argue with him about walking home anymore. She just wanted to get away from these men with violence in their eyes.

Then Knox’s hand was wrenched off her arm. He went down with a grunt. She spun around, watching in horror as two of them men started beating him.

“Knox!” she screamed, lunging forward, but the other man caught her up and held her back, one arm locked around her waist.

The two continued to beat on him, but he did nothing. Simply took it. He made it back up to his feet, and they let him, panting and grinning, enjoying every moment of it.

“What are you doing? Knox, fight!” she pleaded. His gaze found hers, and what she saw there was like a knife in her heart. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t fight because of her. He was showing her he could restrain himself even under provocation.

“That’s right!” One man punched Knox in the face and sent his entire body spinning. He collided with a parked car and clung to it to keep from falling. “Fight back, you bastard.”

But he didn’t. He wouldn’t lift a finger.

“Knox,” she whimpered. She felt like she was dying, unable to catch her breath.

A man stepped out of the coffeehouse and shouted in their direction. “Hey! I’m calling the cops!”

“Hear that?” she shouted. “The cops are coming! You better go!”

The man holding her laughed. “We’ll probably get a medal.” They kept pounding on him. Over her screams.