Page 10 of Tricked By Jack
Baby Willow Ruby squirms in my arms, a warm bundle swaddled in cashmere that costs more than most people make in a week. Her eyes peer up at me, unfocused yet somehow trusting.
I adjust her head against the crook of my elbow, supporting her neck with careful precision. The weight of her is nothing, barely seven pounds of new life.
“Look at you, natural as anything.” Carolina beams from across the dining table, her fork poised over the remains of her chicken. “She hasn’t made a single peep since you took her.”
I look at my sister-in-law, who shows no sign of having gone into early labor. “She knows I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
Nick snorts into his wine glass. “If only that were true.”
The baby’s tiny fingers flex against the blanket, and I find myself studying her face that carries traces of both parents. Carolina’s wide, expressive eyes, and Nick’s stubborn chin. A nose that belongs to neither, a ghost of our dad’s genetics resurfacing. Science is relentless that way.
Blood remembers, even when we’d rather it forgot. It leaks through time and skin, sneaking into faces that don’t belongto the dead.
“Seriously though,” Carolina continues, setting down her fork and reaching for her water. “You’re practically a baby whisperer, Jack. Ever consider having some of your own?”
The question lands like a small, targeted explosive. Not enough to do real damage, but enough to disturb the careful composure I maintain at these family gatherings. Nick’s eyes flick toward mine, sharp with warning, but I ignore him.
“Not everyone needs to reproduce,” I say, voice even. “Someone has to be the fun uncle who teaches her to hot-wire cars and falsify documents.”
Carolina laughs, the sound bright against the dining room’s dark wood paneling and lime-green walls. The old Knight estate breathes around us, its walls steeped in generations of family power.
Since Nick and Carolina moved into the family mansion, they’ve reshaped it. It’s more modern than opulent now, but still unmistakably Knight. Wealth is our birthright, power our inheritance.
“You joke, but I’m serious,” she persists, leaning forward with that particular intensity she gets when she’s decided to fix something—or someone. “You’d make a good dad.”
“Would I?” I meet her gaze, letting my smile cool several degrees. Willow stirs against my chest, sensing the shift in my muscles. “Based on what evidence, exactly?”
Carolina’s certainty falters momentarily. “Well, you’re patient. You’re protective—”
Nick clears his throat. “Leave him alone, Kitten. Not everyone’s cut out for it.” His eyes meet mine across the table, carrying an entire silent conversation in a single glance.
“Fine, fine.” Carolina raises her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll let it go.”
“Appreciate it,” I say, though we both know she won’t.
Since my sister’s death, Carolina has made it her mission to include me as much as possible. Weekly family dinners, ideas for how I can spend my time, and, of course, a relentless need to give my life meaning.
I know what she’s doing, just like I know she means well. Carolina knows about the Knight superstition, and she’s afraid I’m going to plan my ownexit from this world. Give up, like Ruby did.
But that’s not fucking happening, and with my luck, I’d come back like a fucking ghost with all the unfinished business I have.
You wouldn’t know it by looking at the two of them, but Carolina’s only been a Knight for nine months. Nick bought the right to breed her back in December, and what started as a transaction was never supposed to become anything more.
Then they both fell in love, and somehow, she fit. I do care for her, in the way you care for someone who’s become part of your family, whether or not they were born to it.
Willow makes a small sound, somewhere between a sigh and a hiccup. Her eyelids flutter, heavy with impending sleep, utterly unaware of the world she’s been born into.
The weight of the Knight name. The responsibilities. The dangers.
“She likes you,” Nick observes.
“She doesn’t know any better,” I retort, but my thumb traces a gentle arc across my niece’s cheek. Born in late August, almost a month early, Willow Ruby Knight is fucking perfect.
When they announced her name is after two aunts she’ll never meet, but that would have spoiled her rotten, it thawed some of the ice around my heart.
Willow was Carolina’s younger sister, who sadly died when she was shot by one of my dad’s goons. And Ruby… well, she’s obviously gone as well. But neither of them are forgotten.
While Willow lives on in Carolina’s charity project, Willow’s Foundation, Ruby lives on in every fiber of my being. I know Nick misses our sister as well, but unlike me, he’s not hung up on vengeance or living with regret.
