Page 21 of Kidnapped

Knox doesn’t seem as bothered as a normal person would be, but then again, I’ve already realized that Knox is far from normal and a lot more like the guys and me.

“Thanks, I appreciate it." He replies, “I’ll stop the parties for now.”

I don’t know what I expected, but for some reason, I didn’t think that he’d just stop them altogether; I imagine that there’s going to be some pretty pissed-off people, but as I’ve mentioned before, Knox has this air about him, and I highly doubt that anyone would be stupid enough to go against him and try and show up for a party anyway.

I nod, “That’s probably the best idea. At least until it’s sorted,” I reply.

His gaze slides over to me as he once again gives me a knowing look, and his lips tilt up into a barely-there smile.

“I assume that you and your friends will be the ones that are sorting it, taking out the dealer and the drug as well, am I correct?” He phrases it like a question, but I get the sense that he already knows the answer.

If that’s the case, I have no idea how. Sure, we have a reputation, and people know that we deal with problems; however, they are unaware of exactly how we do it and that we’re capable of not only taking care of someone like whoeveris dealing this drug but also the root of the problem so that this drug isn’t found anywhere near this town again, or at least trying our best to hinder the operation enough that it’s not a threat anymore.

Knox though, he seems to know that’s what we’re capable of, and that’s what we’re planning to do. I could play this one of two ways: I could reply and play it off as a joke, say we’re not capable of anything like that, and that I meant to stop throwing the parties until the cops had sorted it out, or I could simply reply with the truth.

Now, under normal circumstances, there is no way that I’d even be remotely considering telling the truth and admitting what we’re capable of; it wouldn’t have even crossed my mind, especially to someone who I have only had a few conversations with and other than my gut reaction don’t really know anything about him.

The thing is, I do trust my gut, I always have.

So I nod, my expression blank as I reply, “Yeah, we’re on it.”

Knox nods, “I thought you might be.”

We sit in silence for a while longer as we both finish our beers, and I get up.

"I don't suppose you have the footage from your security cameras for Thursday night?"

Knox shakes his head. "I'm sorry. That one on the front porch is just for show now, it hasn't worked for a long time."

“Ah, okay, no worries. I better head out, if you need a hand reminding people they can’t come up here, let us know,” I offer with a smile.

“You know most people are scared of me and my history, but you’re quite happy to sit and have a beer with me,” he surprises me by saying in reply. He tilts his head, looking almost animalistic, as he asks, “Why?”

I shrug, still smiling as I explain, “Everyone has a past; some people's pasts are just a bit more violent than others. I’ve always found that the people with the most darkness are the ones who soothe the edges.”

“Because there’s no need to pretend that we aren’t as dark as we are,” Knox replies, in complete understanding.

I nod, my smile turning feral, “Exactly, can’t scare someone who scares everyone else.”

Knox surprises me by letting out a short bark of laughter before replying, “You’re good people.”

“Depends what you consider good, I guess,” I reply and then salute him as I turn on my heel and start to walk away and back to the guys. I have no idea how long we’ve been sitting out here, but they must be getting ready to come after me by now.

“Jensen,” Knox calls after me.

Chapter Fifteen

Jensen

Iturn back around to find him still sitting in exactly the same place as he was before, beer held loosely in his hand as he stares out over the stillness of the lake.

“Yeah?” I reply curiously when he doesn’t immediately say anything else.

“Do you know the houses about five miles from town on the other side, past the welcome sign, and down the first right-hand turn?”

I frown but reply, “Yeah, I think there are three, all several miles apart, right? All really run down? I don’t think anyone has lived in them for years.”

Knox nods once, “That’s the ones. The one furthest away, the old white farmhouse, sits in the middle of lots of land.”

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