Page 90 of Fighting For You

I muted the TV.

"Knox. Your father told me you were in the ER. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom. A couple of sprains and some road rash. Nothing's broken."

"Are you sure? He said you were thrown from the motorcycle."

"I'm sure. I'm on the couch right now with an ice pack. It's not a big deal."

"He also told me a Gang Crimes detective came to the hospital."

I sat up. "How does he know about that?"

"Your father told me, Knox."

"Since when does he care whether I'm alive or not?"

"Don't say that." Her voice went sharp. "Don't you dare say that. Your father cares about you. Just because he isn't showy about it doesn't mean he doesn't care. He cares immensely." She took a breath. "Knox, we're worried. It's not about Nora. We like Nora. But her brother's situation, these people who came after you, this is dangerous. And you're our son. We just need to know you're safe."

I wanted to say that their concern was about twenty years too late. I wanted to say that if my father cared immensely, he had a funny way of showing it for most of my life. But this was my mother, and she was scared, and taking it out on her wouldn't fix anything.

"Mom. I'm safe. We have it under control. I have connections with LVMPD. There's a detective working the case and Andy Walsh is involved. We're handling it."

She paused. "I just think you need to be careful about how deep you get into this, Knox. This isn't your world."

"I'm not leaving her, Mom."

The line was quiet.

"I didn't ask you to," she said softly.

"I know. But I need you to hear it. I'm not going anywhere."

She didn't say anything for a long moment. I could hear her breathing.

"I love you, Knox."

"I love you too, Mom."

After she hung up, I sat there for a long time. The baseball game had gone to extra innings without me.

The house was quiet. Ian's plate was still on the counter, a crescent of toast crust and a smear of jam. I looked at it for a while, then unmuted the TV and watched the rest of the game.

CHAPTER 22

Dump and Run

NORA

Andy's words had been sitting with me for two days.

There's a limit to what you can control.

She meant it as reassurance. A way of telling me I was doing enough, that I couldn't hold Ian's life together by sheer force of will. But I heard it differently. Because what kept me awake at night while Knox slept beside me and Ian was behind his closed door down the hall was the part she didn't have to say out loud. If the people on Tropicana could box in a firefighter on a motorcycle in broad daylight, what chance did a seventeen-year-old kid have?

Ian had a curfew, a probation officer, and a sister who checked his phone. That was it. That was everything standing between him and a world that already knew his name.

The locker room door opened. I straightened up.