Page 49 of Knox's Boy

Knox leaned against the counter opposite me with his espresso. He wasn't looking at his phone or his tablet. He was watching me. His gaze was heavy. I could feel him analyzing the shadows under my eyes.

"I have an anatomy lab today," I said to the plate, as I had to tell him my schedule.

"I know," Knox replied. His voice was soft, not commanding. He was treating me like I was made of spun sugar. "Driver will be waiting at two to pick you up."

"Okay."

I managed three bites. The food tasted good, amazing actually, but I couldn't eat. I pushed the rest around the plate, hoping he wouldn't comment. He didn't. He just watched, his dark brows drawn together. It made me feel a lot of guilt, but I couldn’t force it down.

Campus was a blur. I sat in the back of the lecture hall, my notebook open. The professor droned on about Maslow's hierarchy of needs, drawing triangles within triangles on the whiteboard as she emphasized self-actualization, but the words just washed over me. I wrote nothing down. I stared at the back of the girl in front of me, counting the stray hairs escaping her bun, thinking about nothing.

My phone buzzed at noon.Check-in.A reminder I’d set myself. I typed the text with numb fingers.

Lunch break. Library.

I didn't go to the library. I sat on a concrete bench near the fountain, watching water spill over stone. If I disappeared right now, would anyone really notice? Or would Knox just find another boy to fix, one who wasn't so fundamentally damaged? I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me.

Actually, I did.

I was just like Finn. A parasite, living off Knox's money and kindness.

When I got home, the silence of the house hit me. Usually, I’d turn on music, or find Mrs. Gable and annoy her while she dusted, or wait for Knox to come home so I could tease him. Today, I walked straight to my room, closed the door, and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Dinner was quiet. The clink of silverware against china.

"How was the lab?" Knox asked. He had poured me a glass of wine, just one, per the rules, but I hadn't touched it.

"Hmm, it was okay," I said.

"Learn anything interesting?"

You don't,I wanted to scream.You don't understand that I feel like dirt. That his blood is my blood. That every time you touch me now, I feel like I'm contaminating you.

"Daddy, may I be excused?" I asked, feeling like a child in the worst possible way.

Knox looked at my full plate, then at my pale face. He nodded once. "Go. Rest."

I fled. I stripped off my clothes and crawled under the covers of my own bed and curled into a ball, squeezing my eyes shut. I listened to the house settle, waiting for the feeling of safety to return, but for the first time since he’d brought me here, the darkness felt just like the darkness everywhere else. I lay in the dark for hours. Every time I drifted off, I was back in Room 12 at the Starlight, the smell of sickness clogging my throat.

At 3:00 AM, I gave up.

I kicked off the sheets and slipped out of bed. The house was silent and still. I padded down the hallway.

I needed water.

The kitchen was bathed in the blue glow of the moonlight and the small green LED of the coffee machine. I moved to the fridge.

As I poured a glass of water from the dispenser, the room lit up.

It wasn't the overhead lights. It was a phone, sitting on the marble island, charging, vibrating silently against the stone. Knox usually wouldn’t leave his phone down here, but he wasn’t attached to it like I was attached to mine. His generation definitely didn’t care about phones the way mine did. He must have forgotten it charging after our disastrous dinner.

I shouldn't look. But the screen went dark, then lit up again almost immediately.

I stepped closer, drawn by it and looked at the screen.

Missed Call: St. Mary’s Hospital - Patient Room 404.

And below that, a list. Dozens of them.Unknown Caller. Unknown Caller. St. Mary’s. St. Mary’s.