Page 32 of Knight

“I’m not upset.”

“You look mad,” he adds before popping a fry in his mouth.

“I’m not mad either. Honestly, I don’t know what I feel right now. I’m sick of all of this mess.”

“It’s gonna be over soon. You’ll be divorced, and he won’t have shit to say about it. Let the lawyer handle it and calm down. Eat your food,” he tells me, nodding toward my plate. I reach up and grab a fry, taking a bite just to make him happy.

“What if he shows up?”

“Then I’ll handle him.”

“How?”

“Oh, Mama. I have my ways,” he tells me with a dark grin on his face.

“Like what?”

“You don’t wanna know. And frankly, I don’t wanna discuss that with you. What I do want to talk about is the boys.”

“What about them?”

“Billy wants on the football team. I can pull a few strings and make that happen,” he tells me.

“What? How can you do that? They said it was full.”

“I know the coach. He owes me a favor. You gonna let him join?” he asks.

“I don’t know. There are practices, and I have to work.”

“You work around his schedule. Easy,” he tells me.

“Is it?”

“Who’s the boss?” he asks me with a grin.

“You are.”

“Then I say you can work around his schedule.”

“Just like that, huh?” I smirk at him.

“Just like that, Mama.” His smile is gorgeous. It lights up the entire room, and I can’t help but be thankful it’s all directed at me. Every curl of his perfect lips is mine.

“What are you thinkin’?” he asks as I stare at him.

“That I’m glad to have you in my life.”

“Same here, Mama. Same here.” We finish our meal, and Knight tosses some cash on the table before we head out of the diner. We’re walking toward his bike when a car comes skidding around the corner. Before I know what’s happening, shots are being fired.

Knight shoves me behind him as he pulls a gun, ready to shoot back. It all happens so quickly that I can’t think straight. The shots, being shoved to the ground, him firing back.

I can hear people screaming around us when I’m yanked off the ground. His hands are everywhere, checking me over.

“You good? Tell me you’re good,” he demands quickly.

“I’m okay.”

“You sure? You’re not hit?”

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