Page 20 of Kidnapped

Chapter Fourteen

Jensen

When the cabin finally does come into view, I lean forward, “If you stop here, I’ll go and talk to him. Stay in the car. I’m fine, and he doesn’t like strangers.”

“Which is weird considering the amount of parties he throws,” Riot points out.

I shrug, “I’m fairly certain that he still considers me a stranger, and we’ve had several conversations.”

“Just be safe and yell if you need us,” Trick orders.

I smirk as I push the door open and hop out, “You got it, boss.”

The door slams closed before he can reply, but he does stick his middle finger up at me as I stride up to the enormous cabin. As I walk up the steps to the wraparound porch that goes aroundthe whole of the house and leads to the dock around the back, I glance around; this place looks a hell of a lot different in the daylight.

Before I can knock on the door, a voice calls me from around the side of the building, “Round here, Jensen.”

I frown slightly; how the fuck does Knox know that I’m the one that’s standing out here. My eyes scan the porch, and sure enough, I see a tiny hidden camera in the corner that explains it. I wonder if he caught any footage on it from when Aurora overdosed. It could help to identify the fucker that’s selling the drugs.

I follow the sound of the voice around the house to the back and find Knox sitting in a deck chair, beer in hand, despite it being the morning. He gestures to the seat next to him and the cold beer with condensation dripping down the side, sitting on the table between the seats.

“I know it’s a bit early for beer, but I haven’t actually been to sleep yet, so I figure it doesn’t count,” he says, his lips lifting up ever so slightly before falling again.

As he sips his beer, his eyes stay glued on the lake beyond. Even sitting down, he’s a mountain of a man and gives off this presence that is immediately intimidating. I think that’s why no one messes about too much at his parties; there’s a fear that he causes in everyone that makes people not want to get on his bad side. His parties are legendary, and many people come from the high school but mostly from the college, which is closer to his age. Not that he hangs out with any of them.

He literally just lets us party on his land, away from the cops.

I grin, “Hell, I have been to sleep, but if you think I’m turning down a cold beer and a view of the lake, you’ve got another thing coming.”

We sit in companionable silence for a while, probably longer than I should have considering the guys are all waiting in thecar for me, but I can’t help it. His presence is calming in a weird way, and being by the lake always makes me just take a breath and relax. It has a way of smoothing my jagged edges, even if just temporarily.

I need that—more than I care to admit—and I think Knox somehow knows that, even though we don’t speak about anything too deep, we don’t really talk at all.

“So, you don’t normally visit during daylight hours; I’m assuming I can help you with something?” he asks me.

I chuckle and sip my beer. “Actually, I came to give you a heads-up.”

He turns to look at me, his eyebrow raising, “Oh? What about?”

“There’s a new drug going around that’s even more unsafe than the usual ones. A girl at your party on Thursday overdosed, and she’s the second one from our school that it’s happened to in the last three months.”

“There’s been a few at the college, too,” he replies, frowning heavily.

“Have there been?” I ask, “We haven’t heard anything about that.”

A knowing look crosses Knox’s face as he hums slightly and says, “You wouldn’t have. They’re keeping it closely under wraps, there’s a big cover-up.”

It surprises me that he knows that since he doesn’t talk to anyone.I always assumed that he kept himself to himself at all times, but maybe I’m wrong, and he has a few friends at the college.

“They’re covering it up in the high schools, too; we didn’t know about the other deaths and their causes until we dug a little bit deeper.”

“That’s usually how it goes with these things,” he replies.

I get the feeling that if I asked him how he knew that he wouldn’t answer me, and it would open the door for him to ask me questions about how I know the things that I know and why I’m so concerned about the issue in the first place, since in his eyes there’s fuck all that I can do about it.

It’s for that reason that I bite my tongue and don’t question him.

Instead, I reply, “Yeah, it is. I just wanted to give you a heads-up; you don’t want the kind of attention that could bring the cops here.”

---