Page 45 of Knox's Boy

"What do you want, dad? I’m studying."

"I’m sick, kid," he wheezed. I heard a cough. "I ain't drunk. I swear on everything that's sacred, I ain't had a drop in two days. I can’t... I can’t keep anything down."

"Go to a hospital," I said, gripping the phone tight enough to whiten my knuckles. "Call 911."

"Can’t," he gasped. "No insurance. They’ll just kick me to the curb. I need... I just need some help. Water. Maybe some meds. I’m at the Starlight. Room 12."

The Starlight. It was a fucking motel on the edge of the industrial district, the kind of place where people went to disappear or overdose.

"I can't come there, dad. I have a life. I can't just drop everything because you…"

"Please," he interrupted, and his voice broke. "I’m scared, Florry. I think... I think I’m in trouble this time."

The line went silent, save for his labored breathing.

The guilt hit me. He was my father. He was a disaster, a wrecking ball, a thief of my joy, but… that was the problem, wasn't it? Parents were often the worst people in our lives, and we still yearned to help them. If he died alone in a motel room because I was too busy enjoying my billionaire boyfriend’s garden...

"Fine," I snapped, hating myself. "I’m coming. But if I smell vodka, I’m walking out. You hear me?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, kid."

I hung up and sat there for a moment. The birds were too loud, too cheerful. The sun was too bright. My dad had drunk all of our money away. He couldn’t keep up with the rent because he spent it in booze, so we had to move all the time.

I needed to tell Knox. The rules.Text check-ins. Updates on plans.If I disappeared to the Starlight without telling him, and he found out... I could not do that to him; this would be much more than simply bratting.

I dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Florian?" His voice was warm but there was a hint of worry. "Is everything alright? You don't usually call during study hours."

"Daddy, I... I have to go out," I said, rushing the words before I could lose my nerve. "It’s Finn. My father."

There was a pause on the line. I could hear the faint click of a keyboard in the background, then it stopped. "What happened?"

"He called. He sounds bad, Daddy. Really bad. Not drunk-bad, but sick-bad. He’s at a motel on the edge of town and he says he can't keep water down, and he needs help, and that he has no one but me." I took a breath, staring at my open textbook, tears already blurring my vision. "I have to go check on him."

"I see." Knox’s tone was guarded, but not unkind. "Florian, you know his patterns better than anyone. Is this a ploy for money?"

"It might be," I admitted, closing the book with a heavy thud. "But if it’s not... I just need to drop off some Gatorade and aspirin. Make sure he’s not dying."

"I don't like you going to that part of town alone," Knox said. "I can leave the office now. Wait for me."

"No," I said, a little too quickly. I needed to do this. I needed to prove, to myself, maybe to him too, that I could handle Finn without collapsing. "You have that merger meeting. I know you do. I can handle this, Daddy. I’ll take the driver. I’ll be safe."

Knox was silent for a long moment. I could practically hear him calculating the risks.

"I'll ask Kyle to be close by," he said finally, his voice firm. Kyle was his head of security. "Keep your phone on. Send me the location immediately. I will wrap up here and meet you there as soon as humanly possible."

"You don't have to…"

"I am coming, Florian," he cut in. "You can go ahead to assess the situation, but I will be there. Do not argue with me on this."

"Yes, Daddy," I whispered, relief washing through me despite my protests. I didn't want to be alone with Finn for long.

"Be careful," Knox added, his voice dropping to that register that made my toes curl. "Call me if anything feels off. Immediately."

"I will."

I hung up and scrambled to pack my things. The peace of the afternoon was shattered, replaced by the familiar, buzzing anxiety of crisis mode. That’s how my life had always felt.