All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(81)

“He won’t fight you! Just stop! Stop it!” Briar shouted at them.

“Prison turned you into a *,” one of the guys said, and spat in Knox’s bleeding face. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Just then a police cruiser turned the corner and whipped into the parking lot with a brief blare of its siren. The two men hitting him stood back. Knox dropped to his knees, then to his side, dead weight, as the two officers hopped out of the vehicle, taser guns at the ready.

The man holding her released her and she rushed to Knox’s side, tears streaming hotly down her face. She ignored the policemen and three guys, her only thought for Knox. She wrapped an arm around him and gingerly touched the eye already swelling shut. “Why? Why did you let them do this to you?”

He looked out at her with his one good eye. “I told you. You make me stronger.”

She shook her head, bewildered. “You make no sense. They hurt you.” She was sobbing now.

An officer approached them. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

She turned on him, wiping at her tears. “Yes. These men attacked my boyfriend.”

“I’m a felon,” Knox admitted, wincing as he spoke. “They took exception to the fact that I was granted parole.”

The officer nodded, eyeing Knox up and down, not missing the fact that he had been beaten within an inch of his life. Behind him, his partner had the three men face down on the asphalt with their hands behind their heads. “I’ll call an ambulance to—“

“That’s not necessary—” Knox started to say.

“It’s necessary,” Briar cut in.

The policeman was moving away, already speaking into his radio.

“They’re going to look you over. What they did to you needs to be documented.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” He attempted a smile and winced at the effort.

Her cheeks warmed.

“I like that,” he murmured.

She took the edge of her shirt and rose on her knees to gingerly wipe his face. “You should have defended yourself.” Tears threatened again, making her voice crack.

“Sssh.” He stroked her face, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “This is nothing. I’ll heal. But if I fought them and got in trouble, got my parole revoked . . . then I go back. I lose you.” His voice choked up a little then. “I would never heal from that. I can’t lose you, Briar.”

She threw both arms around him, mindful not to squeeze him too tightly, convinced that he was the strongest man she had even known. “You’re not going to lose me. You won’t,” she vowed, pressing her lips to wherever she touched skin. His neck, cheeks, lips. “You’re never going to lose me, Knox. I love you.”

He grinned against her lips. “Told you so.”

She laughed harshly against his mouth. “Is that all you have to say?”

He sobered instantly. “No.” He cupped her head in both hands and looked steadily into her eyes. She gazed back at his battered face, waiting. “I love you, Briar, and I want to be with you. Always. I don’t want to go to bed a single night without you next to me. I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you. The whole thing.” He inhaled a broken breath just as an ambulance sounded in the distance, growing closer. “Please say you’ll have me.”

Her heart pounded so hard that she couldn’t say anything for a moment. She reached up and covered his hands where they held her face. “Yes. Yes, to all of that. I’ll have you, Knox. For always.”

With a short exultant cry, he covered her mouth with his own, muttering against her lips, “I can’t wait to get you home.”





EPILOGUE


Four months later . . .

BRIAR LET THE door slam behind her, anxious to leave the bitter cold of the February night behind. Immediately the aroma of rich tomato sauce hit her nose.

Textbooks littered her kitchen table alongside Knox’s open laptop, but the sound of a knife on the cutting board carried from the kitchen. “I’m home,” she called, unwinding the thick scarf from her neck.

Knox stepped out of the kitchen wearing a smile. “Hey, how was work?” He pulled her into his arms, and she smelled all the ingredients that went into his delicious sauce in the fabric of his snug-fitting thermal shirt.

“Good. How was your day?”

He kissed her long and hard before answering, “Good. I’m making spaghetti.” His lips drifted from her mouth to nuzzle at her neck. “But it’s on a low simmer. We can disappear into the bedroom for, oh . . . an hour . . .”

“An hour?” she laughed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet, carrying her into her bedroom.

“An hour,” he repeated. “At least.”

“Don’t you have a test tomorrow?” In addition to still working at Roscoe’s, Knox had just started two courses at the local college.

“I’m ready,” he replied, lowering her to the bed and coming over her. Straddling her, he reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head. Her hands drifted down the flat expanse of his stomach, her blood heating to a simmer that was probably hotter than that sauce on the stove.

He seized her wrist and positioned her palm on the bulge of his erection. “See? Ready.” He winked down at her and she giggled.