Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)

by Lucy Score

To 12-year-old, 17-year-old, 21-year-old, and 30-year-old me. You were never the disaster you thought you were. It’s all going to work out.

Dedication.

“Sometimes in order to build things back up, you gotta tear them down to the studs. Want some help?”

I scrolled through the rest of my text messages until I found the thread I was looking for. Simon: If I could have chosen a son in this lifetime, it would have been you. Take care of my girls.

:(

Nash tugged the still laughing Lina to her feet. “You smell like tequila and bad decisions,” he said.

I watched mesmerized as Sloane Walton made a snow angel. I pressed my palm to the cool glass. Take care of my girls. I heard Simon’s words as clearly as if he’d spoken them aloud.

I love this

In a moment of weakness, I brought my hand to the window and traced her figure with my fingers on the glass.

I love this more.

It wasn’t until she’d disappeared from view and the lights in her bedroom finally went out that I realized something. She’d been wearing my coat.

“Simon loved you both. When the cancer came back, he started thinking a lot about what was important for a good life. And the kind of grudge you both seem to be carrying isn’t healthy.”

This animosity you two are hanging on to is a waste of that precious time.”

Nolan began a dramatic search of his desk drawers. “What are you looking for?” I asked. He paused, then grinned. “A fire extinguisher to put out your pants fire.”

I love Nolan, he's excellent comic relief

She thinks you’re a knight in shining armor,” Petula explained, opening the door to my office. I wasn’t the knight. I was the dragon. “Then she’s either criminally misinformed or delusional,”

Are you just making power moves to remind people you’re a big, strong man who needs to be feared? Or are you moving pieces around on the world’s biggest chess board for the greater good?”

“I’m…speechless,” Stef said before turning to me and mouthing “What the fuck?”

The mannequin was already dressed in a strapless gown with black floral appliqués that began at the fitted bodice and spilled down over the full skirt. “That goes in the window display, ladies,” Ahmad said to the women.

“How many brides could get away with wearing black on their wedding day?”

Is the dress black? Or just the appliqués?

I remembered the dating app and perked up immediately. Perhaps my future husband was already in my inbox. I pounced on my phone like my cat on her chicken-and-waffle-flavored treats…and immediately deflated. No notifications. How was that possible?

I thought for a hot minute that Lucian had his hackers watching Sloane on the app and deleting all notifications. That would be a funny side note in any book.

The air in the room was electric. I could practically see the sparks flying between us. But they weren’t the romantic, will-they-won’t-they sparks. These were the kind that burned things to the ground. The kind that destroyed everything in their wake.

“Did level ten fry your brain?” Sloane asked, slipping out of my grip. “We’re calling a truce,” I announced. “That’s not how that works.”

“I hate that every conversation with you has me regressing to a teenager with no impulse control. It’s embarrassing.” “I hate that I let you get under my skin. It’s infuriating,” I admitted.

“Hey, what do you guys like to take for cramps?” Lina asked me suddenly. Knox and Lucian vanished from the room like someone had just suggested we form a trust circle. Nash ran his hands over Lina’s hips. “You okay, Angel?” She winked at him. “Yeah. I just wanted to get the testosterone out of here so I can interrogate Sloane about her dating app.”

“Fine. You can come in. But you can’t glare or growl or roll your eyes. And definitely no speaking.” “May I breathe?” “I’d prefer if you didn’t,” she said.

“You’ve buried and forgotten so many things, I just assumed you were over that as well.” She was wrong. I’d buried and forgotten nothing. Instead, I’d used it all as fuel. “There are some things we never get over. Some things we hide from the light,” I said, patting my pocket only to remember I’d left my cigarette in the car.

“Your father would be…proud.” The word lodged itself in my throat, and it took effort to let it loose. It was the greatest compliment I could think to give.

If things go really badly, I have pepper spray and a big, fat hardback in my bag. Is that good enough, Suit Daddy?”

Gotta love the Suit Daddy nickname

“Dude, I’m kinda in the middle of something with Rackety Ann here. We’re vibing.” “Rackety Ann?” Lucian repeated.

“Oh, please. You don’t date. You pick up a rich-guy-trophy-girlfriend takeout menu and place an order. This is different. This is humiliating and a total waste of time.” “What did you expect?” he asked, looking amused. “Also, where can I get a copy of the rich-guy-trophy-girlfriend takeout menu?”

“Sweetie, when will you learn that sometimes being alone is the last thing you need?”

He took me by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare shed a single tear over him.” “Don’t you dare tell me how to feel about this.” “He didn’t ruin me,” he insisted. “I didn’t let him stop me from building this life.” “Lucian, what life?” My voice cracked. “I have more money and power than⁠—” “You have things. You have millions of dollars and acquaintances in high places. You work every waking hour of the day. But none of that made you happy. You rescued the family name so it would never be associated with him, and that’s great, but that name ends with you. You got a vasectomy because he made you believe you were damaged.”

His beautiful face turned to stone. “Not everyone gets to be happy, Sloane.” “See? That right there.” I shoved a finger in his face. “He ruined you. He ruined us.”

“What are you doing here?” I demanded crisply. She tilted her head back to look up at me as I loomed over her. Those red lips pinched into a disapproving frown. “Oh, no. Not today, Satan.”

He kissed like he’d invented it. And I followed his lead as if I had no choice in the matter.

“I’d always thought the whole all-powerful, shadowy puppet master thing was an overcompensation for a cocktail wiener.”

“Is it for me, or was it for one of them downstairs?” “Does it matter?” His thumb pressed against the wet spot, causing my legs to spasm around his hips. My empty channel pulsed greedily, craving more. “It matters,” he gritted the words out.

Every inch of me from my glittery toenails to the roots of my hair participated in the ecstasy.

I didn’t think. I just reached up and grabbed his face in my hands and we stared into each other’s eyes as I experienced my first second orgasm of my life.

I kept crying in this chapter

“He never gave up on you,” I said softly. But I had. Not that I’d had a choice.

“Stop trying to read anything into it. It wasn’t heroic or thoughtful. I was just balancing the scales.”

“Sloane, your parents drove me to college and furnished my first shitty apartment. They helped me get a job. They fed me when I was hungry. They kept an eye on my mother until she moved. They took me out on my birthday every year since I turned eighteen. They showed up to my college graduation and stood up and cheered when I walked the stage. They invited me to be a part of their family when I couldn’t be part of my own.”

“Just because they were teenage dreams doesn’t mean they weren’t real,” he said quietly, no longer meeting my eyes.

He’d left his memories behind while I was still mired in them.

It was perfect. She was perfect. The way she fit me, the way she begged for what I had to offer. The way she reacted to my basest needs. Every time we let this happen, I convinced myself it would be the last time. And every time we finished, I knew it wouldn’t be.

“Someone left a pile of dead rats on your porch, and your biggest concern is your niece telling everyone we’re seeing each other?” He unlocked his front door and carried me over the threshold. “We’re not seeing each other. We’re seeing each other naked.”

You never should have been there. I never should have told you what was happening. It’s bad enough that he ruined your plans. He could have ended your life. And you went over there willingly.” Sloane crossed her arms over her chest. “Because you loved her. Because you wanted to keep her safe. And because I couldn’t stand another minute of you being locked up for a crime he committed.” She spoke softly, firmly.

Assface: Just because we’re not sneaking around having sex anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care.

Assface: I found your underwear behind the nightstand. Do you want it back?

“You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat others when things aren’t going well.”

Kayla

I think I'm marginally amused by the fact that the Morgan bros mother was named Jayla and Lucian's mother is named Kayla.

“Lucian, you love her,” he said simply. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed even as my gut twisted sharply. “You love this girl turned woman who placed herself between you and your abuser. Who fought the injustice you faced because of it. Yet you keep pushing her away, pretending that you’re some kind of emotionless artificial intelligence distracted by eradicating the world of abusers of power and she’s just another enemy, when in reality, you feel unworthy of her. But you’re never going to feel worthy until you stop pushing love away.

“I worry about you, Lucian,” Emry announced. I looked up, baffled. “Why?” “I worry that you prioritize winning over happiness, and I don’t know if you’ll be satisfied with winning at the expense of everything else.”