I added “phone etiquette” to the growing list of things Knox Morgan was bad at.
He returned looking even angrier. Ignoring me, he produced a wallet and fished out a few bills, then fed them into the soda machine.
“What do you want?” he muttered.
“Uh. Water, please.”
He punched the buttons harder than I thought necessary. And a bottle of water and two Yellow Lightnings fell out onto the ground.
“Here.” He shoved the water at me and headed back to the room.
“Uh. Thanks?” I called after him.
I debated for about thirty seconds whether or not I should just start walking until I found a new reality that was less terrible. But it was just a mental exercise. There was no way I could walk away. I had a new responsibility. And with that responsibility would come some sense of purpose. Probably.
I returned to my room and found Knox examining the lock on the door. “No finesse,” he complained.
“Told her she should’ve picked it,” Waylay said, cracking open her soda.
“It’s barely eight in the morning, and you gave her a soda,” I hissed at Knox as I resumed my sentry stance in front of the mound in the corner.
He looked at me, then beyond me. Nervously I spread my arms and tried to block his view.
“That some kind of tablecloth?” he asked, peering past me.
“Wedding dress,” Waylay announced. “Mom said it was ugly as hell.”
“Yeah, well, Tina wouldn’t know good taste if it hit her over the head with a Birkin bag,” I said, feeling defensive.
“Does that dress mean I have an uncle out there somewhere?” she asked, nodding at the pile of lace and underskirt that had once made me feel like a fairy princess but now only made me feel like a fool.
“No,” I said firmly.
Knox’s eyebrows raised fractionally. “You just decided to take a wedding dress on a road trip?”
“I really don’t see how this is any of your business,” I told him.
“Hair’s done up like she was going someplace fancy,” Waylay mused, eyeing me.
“Sure looks that way, Way,” Knox agreed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking amused.
I did not like the two of them ganging up against me.
“Let’s worry less about my hair and a dress than what we’re going to do next,” I suggested. “Waylay, did your mom say anything about where she was going?”
The girl’s eyes zeroed back on the screen. Her slim shoulders shrugged. “Dunno. Just said I was your problem now.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Thankfully I didn’t have to answer because a brisk knock had all three of us looking at the open door.
The man standing in it made me suck in a little breath. Knockemout sure grew them hot. He was dressed in a spotless dark blue uniform with a very shiny badge. There was a nice layer of stubble accentuating a strong jaw. His shoulders and chest were broad, hips and waist tapered. His hair was close to blond. There was something familiar about his eyes.
“Knox,” he said.
“Nash.” His tone was as cold as his eyes.
“Hey, Way,” the newcomer said.
Waylay gave the man a head nod. “Chief.”
His eyes came to me.
“You called the police?” I squeaked at Knox. My sister was a terrible person, and I was definitely going to let her know that. But calling the police felt so final.
FOUR
“YOU’RE NOT STAYING HERE.”
Naomi
“You must be Naomi,” the cop said.
I might have been mid-panic attack, but I kind of liked the way he said my name in a friendly drawl.
Knox apparently did not like it because he was suddenly placing his muscled bulk directly in front of me, feet planted wide, arms crossed.
“I am,” I said, peering around Knox. The oaf didn’t budge when I nudged him in the back.
The man looked back to Knox, and whatever he saw there had him grinning.
“I’m chief of police around here, but you can call me Nash. It’s real nice to meet you, Naomi. Sorry it’s under these circumstances. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Um. Okay,” I said, suddenly wishing I would have taken a moment to wash my face and fix my hair. I probably looked like a deranged, zombie bridesmaid.
“Why don’t we have ourselves a chat out in the parking lot,” Nash said with a jerk of his head.
Waylay’s attention was back on the movie as she sipped lime green sugar.
“Sure.” I followed him out and was surprised when Knox joined us. He headed right over to Nash’s SUV, which read Knockemout Police down the side, and leaned belligerently against the hood.