Hollow (Hollow Point #1) (8 page)

I watched Riley pull back out onto the road before pulling Bea in for a hug.

“Thanks for this,” she whispered before shoving the wad of bills into her pocket.

“If you need anything else, you know how to get ahold of me. Day or night.”

Her gaze dropped to my hand, and she lifted it in hers to examine my busted knuckles. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart. Just an old score that needed settled.”

“I thought you’d stopped fighting.” Her eyebrow rose, and I shook my head, laughing.

“This one came looking for me. I swear.”

She eyed me suspiciously before she let my hand fall from hers. “Who’s your new friend?”

“She’s helping me take care of something.”

“Mmhmm,” she let out a small giggle.

“Strictly business.”

“She’s pretty.”

“
You’re
pretty.” I winked at her and her gaze dropped as she tried to hide a grin.

I pulled her in for another hug as I pressed my lips to the top of her head. “I gotta run.” I took a step back, grabbing my helmet and sliding it on my head.

“If you’re not busy some time, you should stop by and say hi to Emily. She’s starting to crawl. I know she’d love to see you.”

“I’ll be in touch.” I started my bike and headed out on the road toward my house.

***

Tatum was in her room, shoving clothing into her book bag.

“Where are you going?” I asked, and she jumped, turning around to look at me.

“Not everything is your business, you know.”

I took a few steps into her room. “If you’re going out with Bryce, I want to know.” She shook her head but didn’t respond. “Riley?” I asked, but she shook her head again as she zipped her bag closed and slung it over her shoulder.

“I’m running away.”

“Tatum,” I barked, placing my hand on her shoulder and turning her to face me.

A wide grin spread across her face. “Relax. I’m just going over to Ms. Stone’s house. Greta’s been telling her I’d come help her organize her craft room for weeks.”

I laughed, running my hand along my jaw before pulling her in for a hug. “Well, at least I know you’ll stay out of trouble.”

Pulling back from my hug she raised an eyebrow. “I’m not making any promises. Ms. Stone is pretty spry.”

“You need a lift?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Not a chance.”

“One of these days you’ll get on the bike.”

“Not today,” She replied with a wave as she slipped out of her room and down the steps.

The front door closed seconds later, and I walked out into the hall when I heard a loud beep from back inside of her room.

TEN

I pulled along the curb just outside of my house. Grabbing my phone, I texted Tatum. The last thing I wanted was to do was deal with Piper. The fact that I heard about the engagement from her and not my father made it worse.

What is there to do on the weekends in this hellhole
?

My phone beeped with her response almost immediately.

What do you have in mind?

I thought it over before replying.

Hang out at your place?

I minute went by before my phone beeped again.

Why not your place?

Sighing, I thought of all the many reasons.

I just need to get away for a while.

Several minutes ticked by and I was beginning to worry that she was blowing me off.

I’ll let Greta know that you’ll be by for dinner. Come around seven-ish
.

I tossed my phone on the passenger seat before pulling through the gate to my place to pack a bag.

I slipped into the house and up to my room without having to talk to Piper or my father. I threw some comfortable clothing into an old bag, pulling it onto my shoulder. As I yanked open my door, jumping as my eyes landed on Ezra, who was leaning against the wall in the hallway.

“Where are you off to?” His eyes narrowed as he smirked.

“None of your damn business,” I huffed as I hurried down the steps with Ezra close behind me.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He called out loudly. I spun around on my heel, hoping he hadn’t been loud enough for my dad to hear him.

“Not everything is about you, Ezra.”

His finger trailed over my shoulder and down my arm. “Don’t you miss me at all?”

“Remind me again why you’re here?”

He sighed as he let his hand fall to his side. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No. No one and that includes you.”

“Christ, Riley. When did you become so mean?”

“When you broke my heart and made me look like a fool in front of the entire world.”

“Give me the chance to make things right. You don’t have to like me, but you can’t keep holding something I did years ago over my head.”

“I’ll think about it.” I turned and left before he could make me feel any more guilty for what he’d done.

***

I parked my car along the street, hitting the button on my key fob to set the alarm. Climbing the steps to the front door, I raised my hand to knock, and it pulled open before I could touch the door. Knox narrowed his eyes as he bit into an apple, a drop of juice running over his lower lip that he quickly swiped away with his tongue.

“I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“I live here, Princess.” He leaned against the doorframe before taking another bite.

“Are you going to invite me in?”

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “I’ve seen the movies. If I don’t invite you, you can’t enter.”

He took a step back and began to close the door. I put my hand on it to stop it from slamming shut.

“Why are you such an asshole?”

“Some people think I’m charming,” he smiled before taking another bite.

“Tatum?” I called out as I stood on my toes in an attempt to see over his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes before taking a step back and making a sweeping gesture with his hand for me to come in.

“Thanks,” I grumbled as I looked around the living room.

“You know where her room is,” he replied as I walked by him and up the steps.

“Tatum?” I called out again before knocking on her bedroom door. I waited, huffing as I looked down the stairs to see Knox moving around in the kitchen. “Are you decent? I’m coming in.”

Twisting the knob, I pushed open her bedroom door, but it was empty.

I sat my small duffle bag on the bed as I looked the bedroom, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. The walls were lined with pictures of a happy family huddled together with giant smiles plastered across their faces. My family didn’t have pictures like that, candid shots of us enjoying each other’s company. Instead, we had staged paintings full of fake smiles and framed magazine covers.

Gathering my long, blonde hair, I wound it around my hand and twisted it up into a messy bun, securing it with an elastic hair tie. I wasn’t like these people and just being here made me feel like an outsider.

“Princess,” Knox called up the steps. “I forgot to tell you, She’s not home.”

“Where is she?” I called back. “Why didn’t she text me?”

“Maybe she’s busy.”

“Doing what?” I dug my hand into my purse and pulled out my phone. There were no new texts from Tatum, so I quickly messaged her to let her know I was waiting.

At your place. Where are you?

“I’m sure we can find something for you to do while you wait. How good are you at cooking?” 

My phone beeped, and I read over the reply from Tatum.

Running late. I’ll explain later.

***

“Okay, I lied. I’m not a very good cook,” I admitted as tears streamed down my cheeks while pressing the blade of a knife into an onion. Greta glanced over her shoulder at me before letting out a soft laugh.

“That’s okay. Neither am I,” she joked as she stood up, groaning as her hand went to her lower back to ease some sort of discomfort. Knox walked over to her and bent down to place a kiss on the top of her head.

“You’re a great cook,” he told her before his eyes cut to me for a split second like he was angered I hadn’t told her she was a five-star chef. He pulled open the kitchen cabinet and pulled down a stack of plates.

“Riley can help me set the table if she wants,” he spoke up, and Greta looked to me.

“That’s fine. We can do some cooking lessons some other time. It’s imperative for a woman to know how to cook for her family.”

I hurried up and washed my hands, desperate to get the nasty smell off my hands.

“Here,” he stepped in front of me and held the stack of plates between us. I groaned and put out my hands. He smiled that annoying half-cocked grin as he placed the dishes in my hands. “Look at that, you’re already becoming a team player.”

I snarled and turned around, not sure which direction the dining room was. Knox pulled open a drawer and grabbed some silverware before walking around me. “Let’s go, Princess. I don’t have all night,” he called over his shoulder. Greta gave me a sympathetic smile as I followed after him.

He placed the forks and spoons in front of each seat. I followed behind him setting out the plates.

“This isn’t what I had in mind when we planned a girls night.”

“Not enjoying my company?” he asked as he ducked his head under one of the small chandeliers that I could easily walk under with no problem.

“Is that a serious question?” I asked, as I sat down the last plate and turned to leave the room. Knox wrapped his long, thick fingers around my bicep, stopping me from moving.

“Why are you here?”

I glanced down at where his fingers nearly touched as they wrapped around my arm and back up to him.

“I didn’t forget about our deal.”

He glared down at me before releasing my arm from his grip.

I stormed back into the kitchen with fire in my veins. Greta was busy with her back to me as she stirred something on the stove. “Need some help?” I asked.

“You can grab the cups,” Knox called from behind me, causing me to jump as he pulled open the fridge and grabbed a two-liter of cola.

“I was talking to Greta,” I groaned.

“Oh, it’s fine, dear. You go ahead and help Knox. I don’t know what I’ll do when I don’t have him here to help me in a few weeks.”

I glanced to Knox, wanting to ask where it was he was going, but I didn’t want to actually hold a conversation with him.

“Okay,” I mumbled, as I began to pull open cabinets to search for the cups.

“Next to the fridge,” Knox raised his chin, and I rolled my eyes as I finally found the cups. I grabbed a stack trying to remember how many plates he’d sat out at the table.

“Five,” Knox replied as if reading my thoughts.

I followed him into the next room and sat out the cups as he poured soda into four of them, leaving one empty.

“Where are you going?” I asked as I moved the forks and spoons to the other side of the plates. It was odd he hadn’t brought up leaving at all since I’d met him.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he watched me correct his work.

“You had them on the wrong side.”

“There’s a right side for silverware?”

“Yes, you uncultured swine. Were you raised in a barn?” He smiled, shaking his head as he twisted the cap back onto the bottle.

“Jesus was born in a barn,” he called out loudly enough for Greta to hear him as he walked out of the room. I followed behind him realizing he hadn’t answered my question.

“That’s right,” Greta replied. “And look at what he’d done with his life.” She smiled brightly at him, and I rolled my eyes. Did she seriously not notice how much of a prick he was?

“Where are you going?” I asked as he grabbed a few paper towels from the roll and tore them apart at the perforations. I didn’t miss the subtle glance to Greta, who shook her head and continued to stir whatever was in the large pot on the stove.

I followed him back into the dining room as he placed the napkins down. I groaned, lifted the towels and folding them in half several times until the stood on their sides like a small teepee, before placing them on the center of the plates.

“Let’s not talk about it in front of Greta. She gets upset.”

“Are you going to prison or something?” I joked, but he didn’t laugh.

“She just worries a lot.” He cleared his throat as he leaned on the high back of one of the dining room chairs, his fingers flexing and gripping the wood tighter.

I looked down at the extra plate, my brows furrowing as I looked back up at Knox. He groaned before rubbing his hand over the back of his hair, his bicep flexing under the short sleeve of his shirt.

“It’s not polite to stare, Princess.” He joked, but there was no humor in his tone. His teeth clenched, and the muscles along his angular jaw jumped beneath his tanned flesh. He was worried about wherever he was going, or maybe it was just the fact that he was leaving.

“What kind of sports do you play?” I asked, hoping this wasn’t yet another question that was off limits.

“Who says I played sports?”

I shrugged looking down at his muscular arms. “You just… look like you’ve played.”
Smooth.

“Football, but I don’t play as much anymore. Not since graduation.”

“How long have you been out of school?”

“I graduated two years ago. I skipped a grade.”

I nodded, impressed. “So you’re not as dumb as you look.”

“Dinner is ready,” Greta announced as she turned the corner, large pot in hand. “My famous goulash!”

“Let me get that for you, Greta,” Knox grabbed the container as steam rolled out of the top.

“You’re a good boy,” she praised him, and it was almost comical that she referred to him as if he was a child and he was at least two feet taller than she was.

“I try,” he replied as he sat the pot down in the center of the table. I gripped the back of the chair that I stood behind, but Knox nodded his head, motioning for me to sit in the seat to my right. I sank down on the chair as he scooped out a large ladle full of goulash onto my plate.

“Whoa, I can’t eat all of that,” I yelled and put my hand over the mountain of noodles. One fell off the giant spoon and landed on the back of my hand causing me to screech out in pain.

“Shit. Let me see it.” Knox rounded the table and took my fingers between his before I could protest. He looked over the tiny red splotch covered in tomato sauce before rubbing the edge of my neatly folded napkin over my skin. A welt was raised in its place. “Just hold still a second,” he said as he let my hand slide from his and hurried out of the room.

He was back in only a minute with a small tube of burn cream. He squeezed a little dab onto the pad of his finger, and I pulled my hand back, afraid it would make it hurt worse. He smiled as he took my arm and pulled my hand closer to him.

“Not as tough as you want everyone to think you are, huh?” He mumbled as his finger slid over the mark. I sucked in a hiss between my teeth as his rough finger moved over the delicate flesh but the burn was soon replaced with a cooling relief. “There. All better.” He pushed to his feet, winking before rounding the table back to his seat. He sank down in his chair, his arms flanking either side of his plate as he shoveled a large spoonful of noodles into his mouth.

“You eat like a wild animal,” I sneered, and he shook his head, scooping another large bite into his mouth as I picked up my fork and slid a few noodles onto the prongs.

“Force of habit.”