Page 3 of My Bad Boy Valentine

"I want to help," I said quickly. "Linzie, I mean. She's bright, I can tell. We just need to figure out what's holding her back."

Knox's expression softened when I mentioned his sister. "Thanks. For giving her a chance. Not everyone does."

"Everyone deserves a second chance." I met his eyes steadily. "Don't you think?"

Something intense flashed across his face, gone before I could interpret it. "Maybe. If they've earned it."

The sound of students in the hallway broke the moment. Knox straightened, the hint of vulnerability vanishing behind his tough exterior.

"I should go. Thanks for..." He gestured vaguely. "Just, thanks."

I watched him stride away, trying to calm my racing heart. Tonight at our weekly family dinner, Mira would take one look at my face and know everything. She always did. And she’d be right.

Because Knox Slater was more dangerous to my peace of mind now than he'd ever been in high school. Only this time, he might actually be noticing me back.

And I wasn't sure my heart was ready for what that meant.

Chapter Two

Knox

I never thought I’d come back to Hope Peak. The last time I rode out of this town, I was an angry kid with a chip on my shoulder and the law on my tail, convinced that leaving was the only way to survive. Now here I was, well before sunrise, unlocking the door to my own motorcycle shop while the golden glow of dawn spread across the snowcapped mountains. The morning air was cold enough to sting my lungs, but it felt cleaner than any breath I’d taken in the past few years.

I climbed a narrow set of stairs to the small apartment above the shop, each step echoing in the empty silence. The space up there wasn’t much more than a kitchenette, a couple of old wooden

doors leading to two tiny bedrooms, and a cramped bathroom with questionable plumbing. But it beat the hell out of where Linzie and I grew up—our folks’ neglected house that reeked of stale cigarettes and hopelessness. At least here, my sister had her own room, privacy, and the promise of a clean slate.

“You better not be late again,” I called up the hallway, balancing a paper bag of pastries in one hand and jingling my keys in the other. Linzie’s bedroom door slammed in response, the sharp crack cutting through the early-morning quiet. Teenage attitude was loud, but it was better than the haunted silence she’d clung to when we were kids. That memory—of finding her hiding in our closet, knees to her chest while our dad raged in the next room—still left a bitter taste in my mouth.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Aunt Shawna. She’d been calling almost daily since I took Linzie off her hands, likely out of guilt or maybe just a need for updates. She wasn’t much older than me, barely had her own life together, but at least she’d cared enough to reach out when Linzie started spiraling. It was the call that dragged me back to this town I once swore I’d never see again.

“Your sister’s out of control,” Aunt Shawna’s voice had trembled on the phone. “Skipping school, failing everything. I can’t…I can’t handle her, Knox. Not like you can.”

I’d let out a half-laugh at the irony. Me, the family screw-up, back to play responsible guardian? I’d spent half my life running from authority, from cops, from any sense of obligation. But prison changed things. Three years locked up was a long time to face your mistakes. Especially when Pastor Vic started dropping by your cell every week with that calm, knowing look, telling you that you still had a future worth salvaging.

“God’s got bigger plans for you, son,” he’d say, helping me with my GED workbooks. The small engine repair certification had been his idea, too—“Channel that energy into something productive, Knox.” And so I did, eventually learning how to fix bikes instead of stealing them, how to make an honest living instead of feeding my anger.

Linzie clomped down the hallway, wearing the same oversized hoodie she’d worn for the past week. “I hate school,” she muttered, not meeting my eyes as she tugged the hood further over her head.

“Yeah? Well, I hate seeing my kid sister throw away her chances.” I handed her a granola bar from the paper bag. “You’re smarter than me. You just don’t know it yet.”

She rolled her eyes but took the breakfast, which I counted as progress. Some days, that was all I got.

By the time we rolled my bike out of the garage and onto the street, the sun had fully risen, and the crisp mountain air bit through my leather jacket. Hope Peak looked the same—tidy storefronts, weathered wooden porches, and a sprinkling of lingering holiday decorations here and there. But for all its postcard charm, this town never forgot a scandal. People still whispered about my folks, about how they ended up in prison themselves, about the trouble I got into before I finally vanished. I felt their stares sometimes, though they pretended not to see me.

Linzie hopped on the back of my bike, and we rode in silence toward the school. She gripped my jacket with her free hand, her body stiff as though ready to jump off at any moment. I could practically taste her tension, the same restlessness I’d once felt riding these roads on my own, convinced that nobody in this world gave a damn if I made it or not.

When we pulled up in front of Hope Peak Middle School, a few kids milled around in the yard, laughing or huddled over their phones. Nobody paid us much attention, but I noticed a couple of parents shooting me wary looks. I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on handing Linzie her backpack. She shrugged it on and mumbled something that might have been “thanks,” then trudged off without a goodbye. Still, I caught a flicker of emotion in her eyes—something torn between resentment and relief.

As I watched her go, I caught sight of a different figure in the crowd. Caroline Belle. Gone was the shy bookworm who used to bury her nose in novels. Instead, the Caroline I saw now had grown into a woman who wore her curves with a quiet confidence in a way that made my chest feel tight. I remembered her always daydreaming but rarely speaking. It made sense that she’d become a teacher. She radiated kindness and warmth, the kind I hadn’t known much of in my life.

I tried not to stare. Really, I did. But there was something about her that made it hard to look away. I revved the engine once more—an old habit that used to intimidate people—but Caroline glanced over as if drawn by the sound. Our gazes locked, and for one tense second, her eyes widened. Then she offered me a small, hesitant smile. Before I could return it, Linzie tugged on her sleeve, pulling Caroline’s attention. So I let out a breath, pulling the bike back into gear, and left the parking lot, heart thudding.

Mid-morning, while I was elbow-deep in engine grease at my shop, my phone buzzed with a text from Ryder: “You coming to Skyline tonight? Catch up with the old crew?” A wave of memory hit me—those nights we used to prowl around, looking for trouble. Now Ryder was a wilderness guide and dating Tessa from what I’d gleaned in the short time since being back, andLevi owned the Skyline Bar & Grill. I wondered if they ever looked back, the way I did, regretting the things we couldn’t undo. Then again, maybe they didn’t have the same mistakes clinging to them like tattoos and mug shots.

I spent the afternoon doing oil changes, messing with carburetors, and reminding myself that every bike I fixed was another step away from the kid I’d been. That life of gangs and petty crime caught up with me eventually—armed robbery, a short-lived attempt to get quick cash, had led to me being cuffed in front of everyone who ever said I wouldn’t amount to anything. Prison might have broken me if not for Pastor Vic, who insisted on seeing potential beneath my anger. The fading “La Vida Loca” on my chest had been reworked into a cross, and the MC club marks on my neck were slowly evolving into biblical verses and symbols of a life I was trying to reclaim. New ink might not erase my sins, but it helped remind me how far I’d come.

By the time the clock read seven, I’d closed up the shop and found myself outside the Skyline Bar & Grill. The neon sign buzzed overhead. I took a breath before stepping inside, unsure what kind of reception I’d get. The place was already alive with chatter and the warm smell of fried food. Levi stood behind the bar, shooting me a familiar grin the moment he saw me.

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