“Dinner isn’t over yet, young man,” Trent barks.

Knox ambles over to the kitchen sink. “I told Shadow I’d give her a ride to work.”

“Don’t you think you should have cleared that with me first?”

Geez.

Then again, I can’t blame Trent for keeping him on a tight leash.

He killed his own mother.

Knox freezes, the tendons in his arms coiling as he grips the edge of the sink. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” Trent wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You know how important your attendance at family dinner is.”

Knox turns around. “It won’t happen again.” It looks like he’s swallowing nails before he utters, “Sir.”

“Make sure it doesn’t.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You may be excused.”

Knox starts to leave, but then Trent snarls, “Thank your mother for the lovely dinner she made.”

His back is turned so I can’t see his face. However, I do see his hands clench into fists…like it’s taking every ounce of his self-control not to flip the fuck out.

“Thanks for dinner,” Knox mutters under his breath before he stalks off.

A moment later, the front door opens before slamming shut.

We finish the rest of dinner in silence.

I’m loading the plates from dinner into the dishwasher when Trent approaches me.

“You don’t like me,” he notes, leaning against the marble island.

Awkward.

However, I tell him the truth, “I don’t know enough about you to form an opinion.”

Okay, that’s a lie.

I don’t like the fact that he married my mother.

Or that he insists we all eat breakfast and dinner together like we’re one big happy family when it couldn’t be further from the truth.

I also don’t like that he referred to my mom as Knox’s mom earlier. Because she’s not.

Or that he thinks he can buy my approval with a car. Because he can’t.

“I get that,” he says softly, like I’m a bomb he’s afraid will detonate at any moment.

Taking a plate from me, he puts it into the dishwasher. “I’m not trying to be your father.”

“Good.”

Because my dad isn’t someone who can be replaced.

Especially by the likes of him.

“But I am hoping we can be friends one day.”

I raise a brow. “Friends?”

He chuckles a little. “Okay, friends is a bit of a stretch.” His expression turns serious. “I’m sorry about your father, Aspen. It was a terrible tragedy I wouldn’t wish on anyone. But I’m tired of feeling like I need to tip-toe around you in my own home.” He takes a step closer. “I just want to take care of you and your mother.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

He drags a hand down his face. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

I scrub the dish in my hand with more vigor than necessary. “No.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and I feel his breath tickle my ear. “I like a challenge.”

Chapter 9

Knox

A sharp uppercut strikes my jaw. The pain is white hot, like a flash of lightning in the dark. It buzzes through me, ringing in my ears.

Smiling, I look the motherfucker who hit me in the eyes. “Is that all you got?”

I want him to get in as many punches as he can.

I want him to think he’s winning.

Heckles and shouts surround me in the secluded warehouse, their faces nothing but a blur.

Another punch flies out. This time catching my lip. My tongue comes out and I lick it, tasting my blood.

I point to my chin in invitation. “More.”

He strikes me for a third time, and I welcome the rush of pain.

Gimme more.

Rage pushes through me, growing stronger with every breath I inhale.

The pool of blood on the floor.

The colorful bruises marring her skin.

The helpless look on her face.

My fist connects with skin and bone and I revel in the release it gives me.

I plow my fist into his kidney before bashing my elbow into his jaw.

A ragged breath saws in and out of him as his head lolls to the side.

A few people in the crowd gasp. My opponent easily has thirty pounds of solid muscle on me.

The fight should be a cakewalk for him.

But it’s not.

A roundhouse kick to his chest has him staggering back, trying his hardest to maintain his balance.

And that’s when I unleash the rest of my fury.

Charging at him, I crack my head against his. Were this a legal fight, the move would get me thrown out of the makeshift ring.

But it’s not.

My body throbs when his eyes roll back. The lights are on, but no one’s home.

Victory is mine for the taking.

I plant a kiss on his sweaty forehead right before he crumbles like a sandcastle on the beach.

People rush to help my opponent off the floor as I make my way over to Jerry.

The dude’s a crook, and I can trust him about as far as I can throw him. Which isn’t far, considering he’s a fat fuck.

However, he’s in charge of setting up these fights, so I have no choice but to deal with him.

“Another win,” he says, slapping some cash into my hand.

I quickly count it, grinding my molars when I notice he’s two-hundred short.

“Where’s the rest?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “Money’s a little tight this week.” Reaching over, he squeezes my shoulder. “You know I’m good for it, Knox.”

Bullshit.

If he were good for it, I wouldn’t have to fucking ask.

My glare darkens and the nervous way he shuffles his feet tells me it’s enough to shake him.

“You have until next week to get me the rest of my money.” I lean in. “Otherwise, I’ll break your goddamn legs…after I rip your beating heart out of your chest and eat it for breakfast.”

My expression must convey how serious I am because the color drains from his face.

“Sure thing, man. You know I always take care of you.”