Broken Knight (All Saints High 2)

Josh Cooper. He knew Josh’s last name. How had he found out? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that my hands were still clasped in his fists, and I was trying to wiggle them free, feeling my heart pounding so hard I thought it was going to escape my chest. He taunted me. Challenged me. He never had before.

Tears made my eyes sting, but I dared not let them fall. I heard people arguing behind the closed doors of the room. His fingers tightened around my flesh.

“Leave us the fuck alone,” Knight yelled at the door, still staring at me.

I heard some more arguing, then Vaughn opened the door and peeked inside. He looked directly at me, with a nonchalance that implied he’d come to ask what would be our favorable dessert.

When he saw the scene playing before him, he grinned. “Finally, some tough love.”

“Shut up,” Knight snapped.

“Loon, they want to know you’re okay,” Vaughn said flatly.

I nodded. I didn’t know why I nodded. I wasn’t okay. Far from it. But I was going to see this thing through with Knight, no matter the outcome.

“Remember, Knight. She can talk. Make her.”

Vaughn closed the door with a chuckle, and I looked back to Knight, hoping I didn’t appear as frightened as I felt.

“He’s right.” Knight licked his lips, growling. “You can, and you will. If you want me in your life, that is.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. He smiled devilishly. I never knew he could be like this. So cold. So mean. Such a bully.

“Not up for it, Moonshine? Let’s try another tactic. Was he good?” he sneered, his tone dark and low, his breath fanning my face gently. “Did you come?”

I was so blindly hurt by his behavior, I actually pretended to think about it. The answer, by the way, was no. It wasn’t that Josh wasn’t good or gentle—he was both those things. It just hurt too much. Physically. Mentally.

But watching Knight’s face morph from cocky to unsure was worth it. For the first time since I’d known him, I took Knight’s pain and drank from it like a well of strength.

He’d hurt me, so I hurt him back.

I felt the tears pushing their way down my cheeks, but held my chin up, staring at him defiantly. He schooled his features, leaned toward me, and brushed his nose along my cheek.

“Did you think of me when he fucked you?” His lips curled into a smirk I could somehow feel deep in the pit of my stomach.

I shuddered, feeling my jaw clenching. My knee was close to his groin. I could kick him from this angle. I wanted to. His nose grazed my ear seductively, his tongue slipped out, the warm metal of his piercing flicking my earlobe.

“Tell me, did he fuck you hard, or slow? Probably slow, huh? Josh Cooper seems like a nice chap. A good, solid…”

I went for it. I kneed his balls. Only I wasn’t as fast as Knight, who was a spectacular athlete. He moved back just in time, grabbing the back of my knee, spinning me in place, and throwing me against the wall as he boxed me from behind.

Trapped. I was trapped. Between this giant guy’s arms. A guy I no longer really knew, or could even trust.

“It was a mistake!”

I slapped the wall I was pressed against, the words piercing my throat and burning it with their intensity and weight.

I swiveled around. He let me. His eyes widened for a moment. I’d given him what he wanted, my words, and now he didn’t know what to do with them.

Frankly, neither did I.

Crap, I’d talked.

I’d talked to Knight.

I’d said something.

Produced words from my mouth.

Jesus Christ. I’d done it. I did it.

And it hadn’t been to tell him I loved him, that I wanted him, that I’d ached for him for years. We were fighting. Breaking. Putting an end to things that hadn’t even begun.

I opened my mouth again, tracing the words, saying them quieter now.

“It. Was. A. Mistake. Not the part where I gave Josh a chance—but that I did it for the wrong reasons, while drinking.”

I didn’t mean to smile. The situation definitely didn’t call for it. But I couldn’t help myself. I’d tried to get to this breakthrough with dozens of therapists. And, in true Luna Rexroth fashion, it had arrived at the worst possible time.

Knight took a step back, his face still grave, but somehow entertained at the same time. He was a dash of the boy who’d give me the entire world, thrown in with a giant, hard man who fought any positive feeling toward me.

“Were you conscious?” His voice was strained.

I didn’t want to lie.

I nodded.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then it really wasn’t a mistake. Unless you slipped on his dick with your legs spread, I’m pretty sure it was intentional. There’s a fucking limit to one’s clumsiness. Even if that someone is you.”