chapter forty
Aston
Aunt Connie’s funeral was this morning. It was a nice service, and it was great to see our family, despite the crappy circumstances.
It’s barely ten in the morning, and it’s already hot and muggy as hell. We’re all heading over to my grandparents’ house in a few hours for a big lunch. Anderson and I are on our way back to our hotel room now—we normally stay with our grandparents when we’re here, but with everyone in from out of town, there just wasn’t enough room.
I forgot my phone in the room this morning when we left, and I’m itching to get back to it. It’s crazy how your phone becomes an integral part of you and when you don’t have it, you feel naked.
We’re staying at The Westin while we’re here. Anderson and I are sharing a suite, and our parents have their own. It’s a nice fucking hotel, that’s for sure. Taking the elevator to the fifth floor, we make our way to our room. We left this morning right before seven, and with the time change, I’m exhausted as fuck. I’d rather pass out than go to my grandparents’, but oh well.
My phone is still on the charger where I left it. I haven’t been able to use it since last night when I plugged it in, since we woke up late and had to rush out the door. Unlocking the screen, I’m startled to see the array of notifications I have. Thirty-sixmissed calls from Katie on Instagram and another twenty messages. What the fuck?
Katie: Answer your fucking phone.
Katie: Why aren’t you answering?
Katie: HELLO?!?!?!?!
Katie: Call me as soon as you get this.
Katie: It’s about Knox.
Katie: FUCKING ANSWER ME, YOU FUCKING PRICK!!!
Not bothering to read the rest of her berating messages, I press the call button, nerves taking over me as to what could possibly be going on with Knox. I’ve never called anyone on Instagram before, didn’t even know this was a thing.
“It’s about fucking time you answer,” the tiny voice yells at me through the earpiece.
“I was at my aunt’s funeral. What’s up? Is Knox okay?”
“Oh, shit. Sorry to hear about your aunt. I didn’t know that.”
“Well, how would you? We’ve hardly ever spoken. Now, what’s going on?”
“Knox is in the hospital.” My heart stutters, sweat instantly breaking out on my neck.
“What?! What happened? Is he okay? What the fuck?” My hands are trembling. My whole body is, actually, and I sit on the edge of the bed as my legs give out on me.
“No one has reached out to you?”
“Aside from you? No. Plus, my phone’s been in my hotel room all morning. What. Fucking. Happened?” I swear to God if she doesn’t hurry the fuck up and spit it out, I’m going to reach through this phone and wring her fucking neck.
“His dad.”
My hand flies to my hair, tugging on the strands. “What about his dad? Fuck, Katie! Do you think you could say more than a few vague words at a time? Is his dad okay?”
She sighs heavily and groans. “Christ, why am I the only fucking person who knows about this?”
“Katie! Know what? What the fuck is going on?” I swear to fucking God…
She lets out another ragged breath before she continues. “His dad beat him, Aston. He’s in the hospital, badly beaten.” The last two words come out cracked as she lets out a choked cry.
At her words, my legs tremble and give out on me. Sitting down on the bed, a wave of chills settles over my body and my chest tightens. Rubbing my hand over my heart, I try to process what she just said.
Knox has been beaten. By his father. Bad enough to put him in the hospital.
“Aston? Are you there?”
The room feels like it’s spinning. I can’t seem to catch my breath or find my footing. “I-I’m here. Is he going to be okay? Are you there with him?”
“I’m in Georgia for the summer, so, no, I’m not there with him. Weston’s with him, though.”
“I, uh, I gotta go, Katie. I need to check flights and go to him.”
“Okay, will you let me know when you get there, please?”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks, uh, thanks for calling me, Katie. You’re a good friend to Knox.”
“Hey, Aston?” Her voice is quiet, the words coming out timid.
“Yeah?” The knot in my stomach tightens as I wonder what the fuck else she needs to tell me.
“He’s crazy about you, you know?”
My breathing hitches and my eyes burn with unshed tears at her statement. “I gotta go, Katie. I’ll keep you updated.”
Ending the call, Anderson comes over to me. “What was that about?”
“Knox is in the hospital. I gotta book a flight back home, like now.”
“Shit, is he okay?”
“I don’t know, but I need to be there.”
“Go! I’ll let Mom and Dad know.”
Moving purely on autopilot, I pack up my shit, call an Uber, and head to the airport. I book a flight once I get there, and thankfully it takes off in an hour, but I can’t sit still. My mind is reeling over what Katie told me. Knox is in the fucking hospital. His dad put him there.
Has his dad always been abusive? How did I not know this? Fuck, I need to be there for him. A jarring thought hits me… his ribs, the busted lip, the fucking blood. All of that was his fucking father, wasn’t it?
******
It’s almost four in the evening when I land. The flight home was a blur, my mind unable to focus on anything other than the worst possible scenarios. Ordering a car, I head straight from the airport to the hospital, nerves eating at me. I have no idea what condition I’m going to find him in, or if he’ll even want me there.
Before boarding, I sent a quick text to Weston, letting him know I was on my way, but other than that, I haven’t spoken to anyone. Knowing I need to text Katie, but needing to see Knox first, I decide to wait just a bit to update her.
Weston sent me the room number before I got off the plane, so I’m able to head straight up once my car drops me off. Flying through the automatic doors and onto the elevator, I hit the button for floor six. My palms are sweaty, and I can’t stand still. I’m freaking the fuck out and this goddamn elevator is going snail pace!
The elevator doors finally open and I take off down the hall toward his room. It’s apparently a busy floor, because there are several people walking up and down the hall that I have to weave through to find his room.
Finding room 637, I slide the door open and pull the curtain to the side. My eyes immediately gravitate to Knox. My throat sinks into my gut, and I swallow the sob that wants to come out as I take him in. He’s hooked up to the monitors, wires coming out of him, has a cast on his arm, his face is almost unrecognizable with the swelling and bruising, and he has a bandage wrapped around his head. He looks fucking terrible. Bile threatens to spew up my throat.
The sound of Weston clearing his throat is what pulls me out of the paralyzed state I’m in watching Knox. Dragging my eyes over to him, he’s a mess. His hair is all over the place, as if his hands have been running through it all night, he has dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and he’s wearing wrinkled clothes.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know the specifics of what happened, because I haven’t been able to talk to him yet, but I’m almost positive his dad did this to him.”
“Wh-when did he get here?”
“That, I also don’t know for sure. Katie called me in a panic around midnight last night when she couldn’t get ahold of him. When I went to his house, his dad told me he didn’t know where he was, but I could tell he’d been in a fight. He had busted up knuckles and a split lip. After what Katie told me, it clicked. When I couldn’t get ahold of any of the guys, I checked here. If it weren’t for my cousin working the front desk, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get up here, since I’m not family.”
I thrust my fingers through my hair. “Fuck. Did you know about his dad?”
“No. Not a single fucking clue. Did you?”
“Nope.”
“How’d you know to come here?”
Raising my brow, I aim him a pointed look and say, “Take one guess.”
“Katie?”
“Yup.”
“She’s persistent and overbearing, but fuck, she sure fucking cares about him.” I can only nod. She’s a damn good friend.
“So, what’re his injuries? Do you know?”
He rubs the back of his neck, keeping his gaze on Knox’s unconscious body instead of on me. “From what I’ve gathered when the nurses came in to do rounds, his nose is broken, he has a skull fracture, his head has a pretty deep gash from glass—at least, I’m guessing it’s from glass—he has three cracked ribs, his left wrist is broken, and they’re observing him for a concussion. His eyes are pretty swollen, but thankfully, nothing major is wrong there, just bruising.”
I’m going to be sick. I swallow a few times over the bile threatening to come up. “Fuck. Do they know when he should wake up?”
“They have him hooked up to some strong drugs through his IV, to help manage his pain. He’s been sleeping since I got here around two in the morning, so maybe soon? I honestly don’t know.”
His attention finally turns to me, and the exhaustion and the worry is written clearly on his face.
“Does anyone else know he’s here?”
“Yeah, I talked to Branson earlier. He’ll be by later with Luca.”
“And his dad?” Even mentioning that sick of a bitch gets my blood pressure up. I want to fucking kill him for what he did to his own fucking son.
“Neither of his parents have been here since I got here.”
“No—is he arrested or what?”
“Oh, not that I know of. We need to wait until Knox wakes up and see if he wants to press charges.”
Pulling up a chair, I sit right next to the bed, but don’t reach for his hand, like I really want to. I don’t want to hurt him any more than he already is. I can’t believe this happened to him. What would make a parent do this to their child?
Remembering I need to update Katie, I pull out my phone and open Instagram, going to our message.
Me: Hey, I’m here with Knox now. Weston is here, too.
Katie: How is he?
Me: He’s knocked out right now. His injuries are extensive, but he’ll be okay.
Katie: Okay, I’m catching a flight tonight to head up there.
Me: Okay. I’ll message you if anything changes.
Katie: Thanks, :)
“Katie is flying up here tonight.”
“I know, she told me, too. She’s going to stay at my place while she’s here, since she knows nobody.”
“Well, that’s awfully nice of you,” I say, quirking my brow at him.
“I know, I’m so thoughtful.” He smiles, looking a bit guilty.
“Fucking your best friend’s friend?”
“Who the fuck said anything about fucking?” Laughter bubbles from both of us.
“I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, well, what about you and Knox?” He tilts as he looks at me.
My gaze goes to Knox. “What about Knox and me?”
“Don’t think I forgot about what happened at the frat house all those months ago.” He clicks his tongue at me, crossing his arms, like he just caught me in some big secret.
“Surprised he hasn’t told you already. It ended a while ago, that’s all. It wasn’t anything serious.”
“Why are you here, then?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I hate how defensive I feel at his questioning.
“Well, before whatever it was that happened, you guys hated each other, wouldn’t be in the same room, couldn’t be nice to one another. You never would’ve cared enough to hop on a plane and come sit by his side. If it wasn’t anything serious, then why are you here?”
“I’m not talking about this with you, not right now.”
“He hasn’t been with anybody else, you know?”
My eyes dart to him, completely taken aback by his comment. That can’t be true. Knox isn’t the type of guy to just go without. His sexual appetite is ferocious. “You don’t know that.”
Chuckling and sitting up straighter in his chair, he meets my gaze. “Uh, yes, I do. Ask Katie too. Bet she’ll tell you.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.” My heart is racing behind my ribcage. That little fact does more to me than I’d like to admit.
“Because it wasn’t ‘nothing serious,’” he says, doing finger quotations, “and you know it, Aston. Both of you are so infuriating. Neither of you will admit how you feel, and both of you have moped around the last several months. Fucking admit it to yourself and him already.”
Well, damn.