Knox: A Suspenseful M/M Brother's Best Friend Romance, page 16
Deciding enough is enough, I pull out my phone and send off a text to Tatiana.
Me: I need your help.
Tatiana: Anything.
Me: Get Ayla to bring Malcolm here. We need to talk this out.
Tatiana: Only if you can get Knox out of the house. I don’t want to have to deal with one of them murdering the other.
Me: Done. I’ll text you once I’ve got a plan.
Tatiana: Excellent.
I exit out of that chat conversation and pull up another with Bennett.
Me: You need to get Knox out of the house for a couple of hours. I need to talk to Malcolm, but we don’t need another fight.
Bennett: Give me an hour.
I let Tatiana know what’s going on, then set my phone in my lap.
“You’re restless today,” Knox notes, and I sigh.
“I just hate everything that’s going on. I wish we could have a normal start to our relationship, and we weren’t worried about a crazy person, that I wasn’t stuck on bed rest, and your brother wasn’t being a total tool.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I shake my head. “You have to stop apologizing,” I state. “None of this is your fault. It’s just shitty circumstances making me a bit antsy today.”
He kisses the top of my head, and I lean into him a bit more. “If I could change things, I would,” he assures me.
“I know. But you can’t.”
Knox’s phone rings at that moment, and he answers it with a sigh. “What?” he answers sharply. A brief silence follows as he lets the other person speak. “Can’t I do that here?”
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to act clueless.
“Bennett says he needs me to sign a few things,” Knox grumbles.
“Go. It would be good for you to get out of the house,” I tell him. “Can you stop at the store after too? The grocery ordering system always gets shitty vegetables.”
Knox presses his lips together, clearly not liking the idea but finally nods.
“I shouldn’t be too long,” he states, but I shake my head.
“Take all the time you need. I promise I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m kind of getting sick of seeing your face twenty-four-seven,” I tease with a wink.
Knox smiles, and it’s such a wonderful look on him. I hope that after everything is settled, I’ll see joy on his face more often.
“Stefan will be out front if you need anything,” he tells me, and I tip my chin for a kiss.
“See you in a bit,” I utter after his lips touch mine.
He gives me another peck, then heads to our room to get changed. When he comes back out, he gives me a goodbye kiss, and I almost feel guilty for setting this all up, but it’s necessary.
The moment Knox is gone, I text Tatiana that the coast is clear and hobble to the front door to unlock it. With Stefan outside, I’m not worried about someone getting inside that isn’t Malcolm. But I’m also not quick at moving at the moment. It’s best to get this obstacle out of the way now.
I’m about halfway through the next episode of the show when there is a knock at the front door.
“Come in,” I shout, knowing it’s Malcolm.
“My wife dropped me off on the doorstep and told me not to come home until I’ve talked to you,” he says as he shuts the door behind him.
“She’s a smart lady,” I reply.
He nods but doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t even move and leans against the wall.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate me?” I ask when the silence has become too much.
“Three days ago, I would have said eleven, but now I’m not sure I hate you at all,” he murmurs and finally makes his way to sit beside me.
“Why haven’t you called then?” I question.
“Because I’m embarrassed,” he murmurs. “I punched my own brother because he was speaking the truth, and it scared me.” I nod and wait to see if he’s going to continue. “My head is in a fucked-up place, and it’s only getting worse. I have this crippling fear that everyone is going to leave me, and I don’t know how to stop it. I need help, like Knox said, but I’m also terrified that by getting it, bad things will happen.”
I reach over and put my hand on his shoulder. “It doesn’t make you weak to get help, and I promise it won’t make things worse. It will likely make things more uncomfortable for you initially, but it isn’t always bad. Dealing with hard stuff isn’t easy. It takes effort and time. You have to work your way right through the heart of the problems to actually make change.
“However, if you don’t get help, things will only ever get worse, and you really might lose everyone, just not in the way you think. Instead, you’ll push or drive them away.”
Malcolm nods and takes in a shaky breath. “I know. Ayla told me if I don’t admit myself to a therapy program, she’s going to take the kids and leave.”
I’m not shocked to hear it. I could only imagine the emotional strain this is putting on Ayla in her already weakened state.
“I told her I’d always take care of her, but I’m becoming a burden. I hate it. I just wish I wasn’t weak,” he confesses.
“Mental health struggles don’t make you weak, not even in the slightest,” I state. “Refusing to admit there’s a problem and burying your head in the sand does, though. Being strong means admitting when you need help and putting real work into doing what it takes to get better. And before you ask, medication can and does help. It’s not something to be avoided or used as a fix-all. It can help even out your brain’s chemistry so that the real work can begin. Some people need meds for a short time, and others will always need them. Both ways are okay. It just needs to be used as part of an overall mental health plan.”
Malcolm is silent for a few moments, letting my words sink in.
“Will you help me?” he finally asks with unshed tears shining in his eyes.
A lump forms in my throat as I fight back my urge to cry. “That’s what best friends do,” I reply softly.
He leans his head on my shoulder and shakes as he cries, letting it all go. It’s something I don’t think he’s done in a long time, probably since his mom died.
Tears cascade down my face as I rub his back and tell him it’s all going to be okay. And I believe it. As long as Malcolm actually gets help, everything will work itself out.
When Malcolm is done crying, I call a colleague who works in mental health and get my best friend set up in an away facility. Then, after that’s all sorted, he calls his dads, and they agree to help Ayla with the kids until Malcolm is done with his stay.
“Thanks for your help,” Malcolm says after all the phone calls are done, and Ayla is on her way to get him.
“Anytime,” I assure him.
With the Malcolm situation under control, there is only one thing left to do, and that’s get Penelope into custody. Hopefully, Nixon and his team can come up with a plan because I have no idea what to do.
Chapter Twenty-five
Knox
“I found the little bitch!” Sophy yells, and I race to her office with Nixon hot on my heels.
“What did you find?” Nixon questions, staring at her computer.
“I spoke with one of Penelope’s foster parents, who told me about this girl named Candace. I guess Penelope and her are best friends. I was able to find out where Candace lives, and even though her shitty apartment doesn’t have security footage, there is a store just down the street that does,” she informs me as a still image of Penelope pops up on her screen.
“Did you send this to the police?” I ask.
She nods but doesn’t look happy. “They said they’d look into it but didn’t sound too helpful. And we know that at the end of the day, there isn’t much they can do except knock on the friend’s door. It’s hard to say if proving she’s in the neighborhood would be enough for a warrant.”
“We need to go down there,” I insist.
“That’s gonna be a big fucking no,” Nixon states firmly.
“We have to do something,” I plead. “I’m done sitting around and waiting. We have the upper hand right now. We need to use it.”
Nixon looks to the ceiling as if asking for patience. “When was she last seen in the neighborhood?” he asks Sophy.
“The last footage I got was from a couple of hours ago,” she replies, looking sorry.
“Do you think the friend knows what she’s done?” Bennett asks.
“The foster mother said that Candace was a bad apple. So probably,” Sophy supplies.
“We could call her and ask her for help,” I suggest, and everyone looks like I’ve grown a second head.
“I’m thinking we ask if she knows where Penelope is. If she says she doesn’t, then we’ll know she’s lying. And she’ll think she has the upper hand. Either way, we ask if she’d be willing to set up a meeting. We’ll tell her we can come to her place and coach her through some text messages. Obviously, Penelope would be waiting for us, but again, we’d already know she’s there, so she won’t catch us off guard.”
“Gunnar is not going to like this,” Bennett grumbles.
“I don’t fucking like it,” Nixon grits out. “But it’s a good idea.”
“Am I making the call?” Sophy asks.
Nixon rubs his temples and doesn’t immediately respond, but when he does, my heart sinks as he shakes his head.
“First, we’re going to set up surveillance. I want to see if we can get audio from inside the apartment building before we make the call. Your plan isn’t bad, but we need to do this the smart way,” he tells me, and I nod. “We need all hands on deck for this one,” he shouts, and we get to work.
It takes us a few hours, but eventually, we are set up outside Candace’s apartment in an unmarked surveillance van. A few new bodyguards that shouldn’t be recognizable to Penelope or Candace have been wandering outside the apartment to set up cameras and a listening aid. Both audio and visual will be shitty since it’s from outside a window, but it’s something.
I’m just thankful they are on the ground floor.
When everything is set up, Nixon alerts Sophy to make the phone call, and I wait. Filled with anxious energy, all I can do is listen and watch the surveillance footage as the line rings.
“Hello?” Candace answers from where she’s sitting next to Penelope on a ratty old couch.
“Hi, is this Candace?” Sophy asks.
“Um… yeah, who is this?” Candace questions, voice full of attitude.
“My name is Sophy, and I work at Hunter Security. I was wondering if you knew where Penelope Mercer is?”
Candace starts elbowing Penelope, holds her finger to her lips, and puts the call on speaker. “Nope, haven’t talked to her in a long time,” she snips.
“But you used to be close?” Sophy nudges. “We could really use your help to get in touch with her.”
Candace hits the mute button.
“What the fuck is going on?” Penelope asks.
“Some Sophy chick is calling about you. This could be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for to get that Knox fucker.”
A shudder races down my spine at her words.
“Ask more questions,” Penelope commands.
“What do you have in mind? I mean, I haven’t spoken to her in a while,” Candace asks, unmuting Sophy and having no idea we are listening to all this.
“I was hoping that one of our guys could come over to help you set up a meeting with her. I promise you won’t be in any danger,” Sophy assures her.
“And then what? Wait, why would I be in danger?” she questions, rolling her eyes.
“We believe her to be involved in a recent stabbing. After the meetup is scheduled, we’ll call the police to intercept and arrest her.”
Candace mutes herself again and looks at Penelope. “What do you think?”
“It has to be Knox. If it’s anyone else, it would be pointless,” she tells Candace, but Candace shakes her head.
“Not pointless, we could hold that person hostage,” she suggests. “They think I’m some clueless person in all of this. We use that to our advantage. But if they do send Knox, that would be a lot easier.”
“Both these girls are fucked in the head,” Bennett murmurs.
“Ask them who they are sending,” Penelope instructs, and Candace unmutes the phone.
“Who would be coming to help me?” she asks.
“A guy named Knox, he’s the closest to this case and would be very helpful,” Sophy suggests. “He will have security with him, but another guy, Bennett, will stay in the car and keep an eye on the building.”
“Tell them you’re in,” Penelope encourages her friend after Candace puts the phone on mute for the third time.
“Okay, I’d like to help,” Candace tells them.
“Excellent, when works for you to meet up?” Sophy asks.
Candance looks at Penelope, who holds up one finger. “I guess in an hour would be okay. Would that work?” she requests.
“Absolutely, I’ll let him know. Thank you for your help,” Sophy tells her, ending the call.
“I’m finally going to get my revenge,” Penelope cheers, and I shudder even though I know that isn’t actually going to happen.
Candace and her dance around the room, completely oblivious that we are watching them.
“Your brother didn’t deserve to die,” Candace tells Penelope, pulling her friend into her arms for a hug. “If he was still alive, you’d have had a better life. What’s the game plan?”
“I’m thinking I’ll hide in our room when Knox comes to the door. You can let him in and give him a drink with those roofies we picked up. After that, I’ll come out and slit his throat,” Penelope tells her.
“Okay, I’m really glad you came up with this plan,” I tell Nixon. “All this information is going to be useful when we go in.”
“That’s why I’m the boss,” he tells me, and I shake my head at him.
Candace squeals at Penelope’s plan. “I love the way you think.”
The girls move out of the frame and are mostly quiet as they get ready, and my crew hangs out until the hour has passed and we can move in.
My palms are sweating as I knock on the door with Nixon by my side, out of view of the peephole.
“You really shouldn’t be here at all,” he grumbles as quietly as possible at me.
“She’s expecting me, not you,” I remind him.
“Coming,” Candace shouts and, seconds later, opens the door.
“Penelope has moved to the bedroom,” Bennett tells us in our in-ear devices.
When Candace’s eyes land on Nixon, her brows pull together. “Who’s this?”
“You didn’t think I was actually going to show up alone, did you?” I question. “Where is she, Candace?”
I don’t want them to know we already know where Penelope is in case she decides to sneak out the window, even though we already have that covered. But I want to detain Penelope myself. This bitch has made my life a living hell recently, and I want to have the pleasure of seeing defeat in her eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Candace states, playing dumb.
“Get out of the way,” I hiss out, pushing her out of my way.
She stumbles to the side as I stalk to the bedroom with a gun in my hand, ready for the knives I know Penelope is holding. But before I can even reach the door, I’m completely caught off guard when the loud bang of a gunshot rings out in the room, and pain rips through my leg, causing me to instantly drop just as a second bang sounds.
Candace screams and hits the floor by the door, and Penelope rushes out of the bedroom.
“No,” she screams at the top of her lungs as her eyes land on her friend, who is barely moving and lying in a puddle of blood.
“Hands in the air,” Nixon shouts, aiming his gun at her.
She doesn’t immediately do as she’s told. The way her eyes bounce around the room, she’s trying to figure out what to do, but I have no idea what she will decide.
“This is all your fault,” she screams, lunging toward me.
A third gunshot rings throughout the room, and Penelope drops beside me.
More of our crew rush into the room, and Nixon starts bossing everyone around. “Apply pressure on both the girls’ wounds,” he yells. “No one is fucking dying tonight.”
“I love you,” Penelope whispers to Candace, who smiles at her friend as her eyes start to flutter shut.
“I’ll see you in hell, beautiful,” Candace replies quietly.
“The ambulances are here,” Bennett declares moments later, and both the girls are quickly taken from the apartment while a paramedic helps with my bullet wound.
“At least you were lucky to only get shot in the leg,” he tells me, and I nod.
“The girl wasn’t trained to shoot like we are.”
“Gunnar’s going to kill you,” Bennett warns as I’m loaded into a third ambulance.
He isn’t wrong. I know I’m going to get screamed at as soon as I see my boyfriend, but at least this is all behind us, and we’re both alive.
Chapter Twenty-six
Gunnar
My blood pressure is through the roof as my mom pushes me in a wheelchair through the hospital in search of my boyfriend, who better not be dead because I want to be the one who kills him.
“How could he be this fucking stupid?” I mutter, and my mom pats my shoulder.
“He was just doing what he thought was best,” she assures me.
It doesn’t matter that she’s right because it was still an idiotic plan.
“Don’t give him too hard of a time. We didn’t know the friend had a gun,” Nixon says when we get to Knox’s room.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I grumble. “You’re also on my shit list for letting him go through with this.”
“She just shot my leg, babe,” Knox tells me from his hospital bed.
I glare at him but also take in his appearance. His leg is bandaged and in a removable cast, and he looks exhausted, but other than that, he seems okay. I’d really like to see his report to know exactly what’s going on, but that can wait.
