Probably because I entered the room when I wasn’t allowed.
“You are not going. You will not be bait. Do I make myself clear?” Knives is stern, pointing a finger at me and setting his jaw. “I won’t have you putting yourself in harm’s way. I won’t.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Don’t patronize me. Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I know what I’m doing.”
“The answer is no, Mary.”
“It isn’t up to you,” I say, noticing the shift in our arguing. This isn’t bickering. This isn’t to poke fun. This is a real make it or break it argument. I shift on my feet, never meeting the freezing temperature of his eyes.
He’s pissed.
“The hell it isn’t up to me. I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll throw your ass in jail again,” he threatens.
I gasp, uncrossing my arms from my chest as if he slapped me in the face. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would. If it meant keeping you safe, I’d do anything. If it means you hate me and never talk to me again, I’ll do it. Your life is more important than anything else. I’ll risk you not loving me anymore if it means your heart is still pounding and your lungs are still breathing. Don’t mistake it for one fucking minute, Mary. I’m that man you used to think you hated, remember? Hold onto that if you have to, because I will do anything—” He crowds my space, and I take a step back out of the room. He follows me, and the heat of his body warms mine. “—Anything to keep you safe. Don’t raise hell with me about this, I’m begging you,” he pleads with me
“Knives—”
“—Mary, please,” his words break, like a dam holding in a river, the barrier cracks and threatens to spill. He’s on the verge of breaking, because Knives is proving he is already fractured. “What do I need to do? I’ll do it.”
“We need to know what to do,” Mason says from behind him.
Knives spins around and throws a star, slamming his foster brother in the arm again. “You can shut the fuck up before I decide to kill you. For good. You can wait. You waited all these years to show your face; you can wait a while longer.”
“Twenty,” Mason grunts in annoyance, holding his bicep against him as he yanks the silver out. “It’s been twenty years.”
“Semantics. All the years blend together when someone dies and goes missing from your life.”
The moment he says the words, I know they aren’t just meant for Mason, but they are meant for me too. He thinks that I’ll go and never come back. In my mind and my heart, I hurt for Knives because of the mindset he has.
I intertwine our fingers together and pull him out the door. “We are going to go talk. We will be back later.”
“No the hell we—” I slam the door before Knives can say anything else.
“You’re so fucking bossy.”
“I learn from the best.”
“You—”
“Knives!” Maizey bursts from the kitchen in her princess dress, and she waves her wand in the air and bonks him in the leg with the glittery stick. “You will now be happy!”
Aw. She’s so damn cute.
“Kid, not right now,” he snaps, in a harsh tone he never uses with Maizey.
“Knives!” I scold him, and Maizey pouts her lip, her large brown eyes well with tears. There is no stopping it. She wails, throws her wand at Knives, and runs right toward Sarah, who is cutting up apples to make a pie.
Skirt will be happy.
Maizey wraps her arms around Sarah’s thigh and buries her face to cry.
“Are you kidding me?” I say, the words a harsh hiss directed at Knives. “Apologize to her, right now.”
Knives thinks about it for a minute and nods, realizing he fucked up in that moment with Maizey. Our issues can wait. Sarah lifts her chin when Knives stands in front of her, a stance only a mother takes to protect her child, and Knives kneels. “Maizey, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I have a lot going on, and I took it out on you; I shouldn’t have. I hope you can forgive me, squirt.”
Maizey sniffles, rubbing her wet cheeks against Sarah’s jeans before turning her chubby cheeks to Knives. “You mean it?”
“I swear it.”
“Pinky promise,” she says, lifting her tiny finger in the air.
Knives lifts his pinky, which is so much bigger than hers, and locks it around her tiny one. “Pinky promise.”
“You gotta kiss it or it don’t matter,” she sniffles, waiting for Knives to give in to her demands.
He brings his face down and kisses his hand. The toothless smile beams across her face, and she does the same, plopping a wet kiss on their fingers. “I’m going to go dash Daddy’s office with happiness. I need my wand.” She runs to where her wand is on the ground, picks it up, and heads for the Church door.
“Oh, no. Maizey, sweetie, you can’t bother your dad when he is in the office,” Sarah calls out, but it’s too late.
Maizey is gone, and the roar of laughter coming from Church can be heard from the kitchen, followed by a high-pitched squeal.
“If you make my daughter cry again, Knives, I’ll kill you,” Sarah says as if she is having a normal conversation while she cuts the apples with calm, controlled slices.
“Yes ma’am,” Knives says, gulping.
“Knives! Get your ass back in here, right fucking now,” Reaper bellows from Church.
Not if Reaper kills him first.
“We really need to talk,” I tell Knives. “I’ll go tell Reaper.”
“No, I will,” he says. “We will talk, but my stance isn’t changing,” he says defiantly, leaving no room for argument.
If I know anything about us, there is always room for argument.
I bite my tongue until he leaves the room, and I lift my hands to strangle the air, pretending it’s his neck as I let out a frustrated growl. “He is so impossible. He won’t listen to me. He doesn’t understand that this needs to happen.”
“He cares about you, Mary. Think about if it wasn’t an issue, what would you think if he agreed with Reaper to put you in harm’s way?”
“How do you know it has to do with that?”
“Those walls aren’t as thick as Reaper likes to think. I can hear everything they talk about. Don’t tell him that, or he will soundproof it,” she winks.
I pull out a chair, plop down, and sigh. I don’t look away from the hallway, so I know when he is coming back. The longer we wait to talk about this, the more I calm down and realize Sarah is right. It could be worse. Knives could just not give a shit at all about me and let me be dangled as bait.
I’m lucky, I know, but what else is there to do? If they can’t find my dad in Vegas, we draw him out. I’m the best way to do that.
“I just want to help. I know the risk, and I know Knives has been through so much—”
“—Mary, all the guys have been through so much. These men, they are glued together by pure will alone. Everyone has their story. I don’t know much about Knives, but I know enough to know, he has lost so much. He finally has you, a new story, don’t you think he is afraid to see how it ends? Especially with what Seer said. He must be freaking out.”