Page 27 of Protecting Nicole

Knox nods like it is no big deal he stole my dreams out from under me for the second time in my life.

“And Nicole…” I pause, swallow, then correct. “Nikkiis one of your artists?”

“That”—I could have lived without his following four words—“and so much more.”

Before either Nicole or I can object, Knox suggests for Nicole to get dressed before instigating her exit of the room with a gentle pat on her bottom.

I’d be lying if I said his somewhat innocent gesture didn’t fill me with an equal amount of rage and remorse. I’m pissed he’s treating Nicole like a lapdog who will do as told to ensure it gets fed, and she’s allowing it to happen, but I’m also panicked that I stepped out on my best friend with his girl.

Did I fuck my best friend’s girl?

Did I break the ultimate guy code?

Did Knox win again?

He owes me a lot, but if I’ve dogged him like this, if I did him wrong how I swore I never would, he won’t owe me a damn thing.

There are lines I swore I’d never cross.

Lines that are looking mighty blurred right now.

Knox waits for Nicole to be out of earshot before drilling me. “What the fuck is wrong with you today? You’re acting like an idiot with half a brain.” He thrusts his hand in the direction Nicole went. “I’ve been talking you up all week, and then you look at her like a sleaze who’s never gotten his dick sucked.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, turning the tips on themselves. “And don’t blame Candy for this. I know for a fact she sucks better than any vacuum you’ve ever owned.” Before I can remind him real men don’t pay for sex, he shocks me into silence. “Did your first PO meeting make you edgy? There was no need to shit your pants. Officer Barker is on payroll. That’s why he didn’t watch you pee.”

He helps himself to a nip of whiskey from the bar in the corner of the room, firming my worry that this space is as much his as it is Nicole’s. “The fucker is still adamant you need an ankle bracelet, though. It’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with him not wanting the big guys knowing he’s dirty.” He downs a double of whiskey before locking his eyes with me. “You can’t come on tour with us if you refuse to wear a dog collar.” He kicks at the hem of the pants I slipped into this morning a second after dressing Nicole in her nightie. “So I asked the tailor to give the hems extra flare. No one will know you’re wired.”

Since I need more than a minute to work through the first half of the conversation, I veer toward the latter. “I refuse to wear an ankle bracelet. I’m not a fucking criminal.”

When he throws me an arrogant smirk, my jaw tightens.

Before I can remind him why I pled guilty, a commotion outside steals my focus. River has arrived at the presidential suite to the jubilant cheers of the posse of paid friends Knox has rarely been without since junior high.

“I’m trying to help you, man,” Knox murmurs a short time later, demanding my focus back to him. “He’s gotten used to this life…” After thrusting the whiskey bottle at River, he waves it around the room I’m still praying like fuck isn’t his. “I honestly don’t know how he’ll do going back to…” His gesture this time cuts like a knife. He tosses his hand at my chest, degrading me and my parenting skills with one quick motion. “But I guess that choice isn’t mine to make.” He throws back the equivalent of half a glass of whiskey before slamming the bottle onto the crystal bar. “He’s your brother, so he’s your responsibility.” He sighs. “I just wanted to help you. You’re family, and without you, none of this would have been possible.” He once again highlights the luxury of the room. “I want to share my fortunes with my brother and make this a real family business.”

When he notices my defenses are weakening, he calls River into the room.

Just like every time River joins a conversation, he hands out a dozen hugs before he takes over it. “Did you hear, Laken?” He holds up a pricy-looking buttoned-up shirt with his name and a job description stitched on the front. His smile is one I’ve never seen before when he announces, “I got promoted to head of marketing.”

“Hold on a minute,” Knox interjects, halving his grin. “I said the position is yoursonceyou get your brother’s permission.” He slaps his shoulder before pulling him in to noogie his head, hopeful a bit of banter will lower his disappointment. “But I’m sorry, man. It doesn’t appear as if Laken wants to go on the road with us. He has plans.” He locks his eyes with mine. Since it’s been a long time since he’s looked me in the eyes, I can’t quite read the emotion they’re displaying. “Plans that don’t involve us.”

“That isn’t what I said,” I deny when River’s bottom lip drops into a pout.

You’d swear I expressed more than I did when River asks, “So we’re doing this? Are the Three Amigos back in business?”

“No.” I backtrack again when my snapped reply devastates River more than when the judge handed down a ruling of twelve years. “Maybe. I don’t fucking know. I need a minute to think. My head is swirling.” I won’t mention the state of my gut. I feel seconds from barfing.

I hardly slept last night, and I’ve not eaten since dinner, but hunger isn’t the cause of my nausea. It’s from trying to work out what the hell is going on. Nicole acted like she didn’t know me. River seems more eager to hang with Knox than with me, and I just sprinted across the city to attend a meeting with my PO, who is supposedly on Knox’s payroll.

That’s too much shit to wade through less than twenty-four hours after leaving a maximum security prison.

When I flop onto the sofa in the corner of the room to cradle my head in my hands, the expensive thread of Knox’s trousers brushes my elbow not even a second later. “Stop reading this as more than it is. If you wanna come on the road with us, come. If you wanna hang here until we get back, hang here.” He waits for my eyes to lift to his. “I just assumed you’d want to be a part of this.” He waves his hand around the room during the “this” part of his statement. “But I’ll understand if you want to forge your own way in this world. I won’t stop you. I just hope it won’t fuck this up.”

“This?” I ask when he doesn’t gesture to anything or anyone this time around.

“This.” He darts two fingers between us. “You’re my fucking brother, man. My blood. I wouldn’t be shit without you, so I don’t want to leave you behind while creating greatness. I want you to get a share of the pie you deserve.”

River takes the last half of his reply as literal pie. He rubs his hands together while licking his lips.

“And the perks aren’t bad, either.” Knox pushes off the sofa and moves deeper into the room. “Private jets. Presidential suites.” The red hue on River’s cheeks deepens with each word he speaks. “Endless women.” He chuckles at River’s beet-colored face. “And the who’s who of the music industry.” He gathers a coat tossed across the made bed in the middle of the suite. “It’s the ‘in’ you’re looking for but trying to deny, just with an official title that will keep BOP off your back until your probation ends.”

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