Dynasty (Boys of Winter 1)
I get to my feet and face him as he approaches. “Who are you?” I ask, my eyes narrowed as my fingers run over the top of my brass knuckles, making sure they’re firmly in place.
The guy nods his head in greeting, and the closer he comes, the easier it is to make out his dirty blonde hair and deep hazel eyes. “The name’s Knox,” he grumbles as he pulls out a cigarette. “But I think the better question is, who the hell are you? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Does it really matter who I am?”
He scoffs. “Well after you so effortlessly lifted a hundred-dollar bill from my back pocket, yeah, I think I’ll make it my business to get to know you.”
Ahh, fuck.
My eyes widen and I start shaking my head. “I … I didn’t—”
“Chill out,” he laughs. “Keep the cash. I don’t need it. I guess I’m just more interested in how you were able to lift it so easily. I’ve been watching you, you know,” he tells me, lighting his cigarette. “You’ve nearly hit every fucker at this party. Did you clean up well?”
I narrow my eyes, wondering if I can trust him, but when he holds out his pack of cigarettes and offers me one, I decide that he couldn’t be too bad. I take a smoke, and he holds up his lighter, a small flame appearing in my face with the flick of a finger. I lean into it and inhale deeply before blowing out a cloud of smoke.
I shrug my shoulders and look out at the party. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to count yet.”
Knox purses his lips and looks over me, slowly nodding as though he’s impressed. “Why?”
“Why what?”
He steps a little closer, still trying to figure me out, but he never will. I’m a mystery to myself; not even I can figure this shit out. “Why do you have to steal? I saw that bike you’ve been riding around town, and that shit ain’t cheap. Clearly, you don’t need the money.”
I raise a brow. “On the contrary,” I say. “I won that bike in a bet and did everything I could just to keep it running. I’m not from around here. If I don’t steal cash, I don’t eat.”
He grins as though my struggles are amusing to him. “Ever heard of a job?”
I shake my head. “Ever heard of a foster kid? I’ll be shipped away and lost in the system before I’m able to even complete an application. There’s no point. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, even if it means lifting a hundred-dollar bill off an unsuspecting rich kid like yourself.”
Knox laughs, and a sparkle hits his eyes as though he’s just decided that he’s about to spend the rest of his night trying to figure me out. “Okay, I guess I judged you too soon,” he tells me. “Just do yourself a favor and don’t steal from Carver and his boys. They’ll tear you a new one, and when I say they’re not so forgiving, I really mean it. Be careful.”
I glance up at him, my brows furrowed as I’m pretty damn sure that I just hit everyone here, though I have a feeling I know who he’s referring to. “Who?” I question, just as my stomach growls, demanding attention. My hand falls to my stomach as it starts to hurt.
“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Knox laughs, his eyes wide as he looks at me in horror. “Was that your stomach? Holy shit, girl. When was the last time you ate?”
I shrug my shoulders, my mind trying to take me back over my day. “I don’t know. I think I had half an apple at lunch.”
He shakes his head and pulls out his phone before pressing a few buttons. “What’s your go-to pizza order?”
“Huh? Why?”
“Why,” he scoffs. “Why do you think? I’m ordering you a pizza. Why the fuck aren’t you eating properly?”
I shake my head and start backing away from him. “No,” I say. “Don’t bother. I don’t let random guys at parties do me favors because nine out of ten times, what they want in return is something I’m not willing to give.”
“Chill out, babe. I’m ordering you a fucking pizza, and that’s the end of it. Besides, you’ve already stolen my cash. You can pretend the pizza is for me and steal that too if it makes you happy, but either way, you’re eating before you leave here tonight.”
I let out a sigh and give in. My stomach is hurting far too much to keep up this bullshit game of denial. I should just take the handout and be done with it. Besides, with Irene and Kurt keeping me from their kitchen, who knows when I’ll be eating properly next.