Page 60 of Captive Souls

“You’ve spent all my life protecting me,” she whispered. “Saving me. You wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for me. It was only fair I saved you when it counted.”

My eyes welled as I finished the last stitch in Knox’s shoulder, tying it off.

“You haven’t saved her.” The cool slice of his sharp tone broke through our moment. “You’ve only further served to endanger the both of you.” His words were delivered in his unflinching tone, but I sensed the fury underneath.

“It is pure dumb luck you made it this far,” he continued. “And you need to leave. Now. You’ve got time. Barely enough of it. If your luck holds, you can make it back in one piece.”

“I’m not leaving her here withyou,” she spat, face no longer soft and delicate but sharp and hateful, her nose scrunched and a wrinkle between her eyes deepening with a scowl.

Knox just stared at Daisy. Her glaring at him was much like Tinkerbell trying to kick a giant. “You try to enact whatever fairy tales you’ve concocted about riding off into the sunset, it’ll kill you both. I’m not letting that happen. Nothing is happening to Piper.”

His voice was still again, even. But the words contained a fierceness. A dedication. To me.

This man was a cold dragon willing to breathe fire to protect me.

Daisy looked between the two of us again, her face tense with concentration. A handful of seconds passed, then realization.

She opened her mouth, likely to vocalize something that both Knox and I had been refusing to acknowledge for some time.

“Knox is right,” I spoke before she could, standing to go to the sink in order to wash the blood from my hands. “We don’t have the resources or the skills to run from this. If we try right now, we’ll fail. Stone will get what he wants, me. And he’ll hurt you to do it.”

I turned the taps on as high as they could go then squeezed my eyes shut against the scalding water.

“This cannot possibly be our only answer,” Daisy whined.

I scrubbed at my hands and waited until I’d dried them before I turned to her. My fingernails still held crusted blood underneath them. I wanted to keep it there for a while. Knox’s blood. On my hands.

Proof he could bleed.

That he was human.

That he had protected me with his body.

“It is the only answer, Daisy, you know that.” I sighed. “Is Joey, is he … h-hurting you?” I stumbled over the words. I hadn’t considered what the true reality of this situation might’ve been. Perhaps Daisy had come to her senses once the ugly reality of what being tangled up with the mafia was and tried to break it off with Joey.

Daisy huffed and rolled her eyes in a way that communicated that she was annoyed, not scarred for life.

“He still insists he’s in love with me,” she flicked her wrist dismissively. “He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on me. He gets all ragey when anyone else in the … organization comes near me.”

I clicked my tongue. I hadn’t had a good first impression of Joey, yet it seemed like he was protecting Daisy. Not that I could count on that to continue.

“Okay, well you need to stick close to him. For now, at least. Until we figure this out.”

“You think we’re goingto figure this out?” Her eyes went wide as saucers, hands on her hips. “This is not me making a mistake on tax returns… This is an international crime boss intent on marrying you and forcing you into submission. Joey told me everything.”

I glanced in Knox’s direction. He was still sitting in the chair, watching us intently, making no secret of the fact that he was listening to every word.

“We’re going to figure this out,” I told her firmly. In the tone I’d used so many times over our lives that I’d perfected it. Even when I was most afraid, uncertain or panicked, I’d always presented as assuring and confident to my little sister. That was my job, after all.

For once, though, she didn’t look the least bit convinced.

“I need to talk to you. Without him.” She violently jabbed her pointer finger in Knox’s direction.

I sighed. The separation of these two was probably most sensible. It was going to be hard for Daisy to see reason—if that was indeed what I was preaching—with Knox in the vicinity … being Knox.

“Let’s go outside,” I replied as I quickly served up a large portion of stew, taking it over to Knox.

“Eat,” I demanded. “The last thing I need is you passing out, hitting your head and losing your memory or something.” I made my voice snappy, not letting him know I was panicked by the very prospect. Of Knox forgetting his job, who he was. Of him forgetting who I was to him. If I truly was anything to him.