Page 17 of Deal with the Devil

Then, sharply and knowing she would protest, he ripped back from her. Amelia huffed. He chuckled, “You know what I want now?”

“More?” she croaked, face fallen. After a moment of suspicious silence, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”

“Heh, no. Ice cream.” He giggled evilly as he tugged them both to their bare feet. Knox took her hands and led her through the dark foyer toward the kitchens. She stumbled after him into the kitchen. He kept the main light off but flipped on the hood light over the stove top. His pet leaned against the counter as he pulled out a massive tub of ice cream and grabbed two spoons.

“Moose tracks?” she cocked a brow.

“Not a fan of fine ice cream, I see?” He cocked his head.

She scowled, snatching a spoon from him. “No, I just figured you had more of a bad guy flavor palate.”

“What kind of flavors do bad guys eat?” Smugness oozed from him as he scooped up a bit of ice cream.

“Pistachio,” she answered without hesitation, taking a bite.

“Mmm, yes, I agree.”

“Right? Anyone who says pistachio ice cream is their favorite is suspicious at a bare minimum. Ienjoypistachio, but it’s not my go to ice cream.” She cleaned off her spoon with a loud smack. “Rick liked pistachio.”

Knox snickered, “Is that when you knew he wasn’t good for your sister?”

Amelia chuckled darkly to herself, taking another bite. They took a few chunks of ice cream in silence before she finally answered. “Before the night they went out? Their big date thatwon her over and stole her heart? About a week earlier, she invited him over for movie night. They’d been classmates then, and I knew she kind of liked him. But…when he paid for pizza and tipped the driver, I saw a fake ID in his wallet.”

Knox scoffed, “That’s not a good enough reason, plenty of people get fake id’s.”

“The ID said the name Richard Calhoon on it.”

Knox froze, spoon halfway into a scoop of ice-cream. After a moment, he glanced up to watch her face. She poked at the ice cream top, not committing to spearing in but leaving little dents about the top. He stood up straighter. “How’d you know it was a fake?”

“My sister and I got fake IDs when we were eighteen so we could sneak into an underground wrestling tournament. I wanted to go so bad, a dwarf from my dad’s class was running it and said he’d get us in if we had fake IDs to back it up. So, we grabbed them. I’d know that stamp anywhere. And when I stole it out of his wallet later while he was eating my sister’s face, I found it right there, bottom lefthand corner.” She stabbed into the ice cream and shoved it into her mouth.

“So, this wasn’t just a good fake ID to cover up his age?”

“We were twenty-three, he was twenty-five; he didn’t need one and his birthdate was the same one he told us. His whole identity was fake, but I couldn’t prove it because I couldn’t find him anywhere. Penny didn’t want to believe me till they’d already married, and she found a stash of money and a fake travelers pass to the Maylor Kingdom with the name Timothy Douhort.” She shrugged. “But she loved him and when he swore it was for work, she believed him.”

Knox wasn’t a good person. He’d lied, cheated, stolen, stabbed, murdered and much more. There wasn’t a moral high ground for him here. But, at least when the world saw KnoxZrazduel, they saw the real Knox. He never hid who he was…and he made sure people knew who he really was.

“Well, then I’m glad there’s one less Rick in the world.” Knox took up a bite.

“When you came for Penny, when he promised her to you…what were you planning?” Amelia glanced up, sharp eyes on him. “You said you had a plan for everything, what was the plan?”

“Money laundering,” he confessed without blinking an eye.

“That’s it?” She raised a brow.

“I need more clean bills, your sister’s a bank manager, that would have been an easy contract as long as she was smart about it.” Knox studied her face for anger or regret. Instead, all he saw was absolute relief. She sagged against the counter, exhaled heavily and took another bite. He took his own chunk and bit into the vanilla ice cream, savoring the ripples of fudge.

“You said you don’t deal in people?” She glanced up at him once more.

“I don’t.” He sat back from the counter before deciding to grab something to wash down all the creamy delight. Pulling out a frosty can of soda, he popped it and offered her first sip.

She took it hesitantly before asking again, “Why not?”

“Even bad guys have a line they won’t cross,” he teased before taking the can from her.

“So, there’s not a specific reason?” She squinted at him.

“You’re thinking like an author. Not everything I do has to have a tragic backstory attached to it.” He tossed back a heavy gulp before putting the can down. Packing up the ice cream, he tucked it into the freezer.

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