I can’t tell if he’s referring to now or ever. And I don’t question it. Because, in this moment when my body is crying for what only he can give me, while my heart is a tribal drum pounding out a primal beat against my chest, my answer would be both. I don’t want to let him go now or ever.
And that is foolish.
Gripping his hair, I turn myself over to him completely. And as he rides me, I break, too. Crack and splinter into pieces. And even as I explode and my hoarse cry rings in my ears and head, I know,I know, what forms from those shards won’t resemble the me I’ve been for twenty-six years.
Chapter Thirteen
Jude
I dip the needle of the tattoo machine in the cap of black ink and step on the pedal, switching the motor on. Pressing one hand to the wide back bowed in front of me, I focus on outlining the wing of the Valkyrie I’m tatting. It’s a fierce, badass piece, one I drew specifically for Knox when he told me he was ready for some new ink and wanted me to put it on him.
It’s not my first time tattooing my older brother. And it’s not the first time that rush of pride streaks through me like lightning. Knox is the same with art as he was in the MMA ring: one of the best. So for him to trust me with permanently marking his body, it’s not a small thing to me. It’s an honor. One I don’t take lightly.
Besides, by concentrating on this new tat, he’s offering me the opportunity not to think about everything else in my life. Because as soon as I wipe off the last of the ink, there’s only going to be one thing just waiting to rush in and rent space. Cypress.
Always Cypress.
It’s been a week since that early morning visit to her mother’s apartment, and the cataclysmic joining that some idiot would call sex. The distance that sprang up between us on that Northside sidewalk never disappeared. If anything, it’s grown, deepened.
I lift the machine, easing off the pedal, and spray his skin with tincture of green soap and water, washing off the excess ink and blood. Cocking my head, I study it. Yeah, it’s badass.
Dipping the needle again, I turn on the machine once more and lower it toward his back.
“Eden’s pregnant.”
The. Fuck.
Slowly, I shut off the tattoo gun and carefully set it down on Knox’s work station. I blindly stare at Knox’s back, frozen. Numb.
No, that’s not exactly true. Beneath the layer of solid ice swirls a whirlpool of chaotic emotions and muddied snatches of thought.
Shock. Because, damn, Knox and Eden are going to have a baby.
Grief. Because I can’t think of Eden without remembering Connor. Of how for years, we all imagined her first child would be with him. Of how that can never be.
Anger. Because the timing is off. This new phase of their relationship is brand new. Mom and Dan have basically erased Eden and Knox from their lives. This baby won’t have grandparents. He or she will come into this world carrying the baggage of a complicated history, and no way in hell can he avoid it.
And love. God,love. It’s already spreading through me, melting the ice, beating back the fear for them. This kid might have estranged grandparents who may not be able to accept him—or her—but there will be me, Simon, Hakim, V, and Shana. And there couldn’t be a more protective father than Knox. A more caring, fierce mother than Eden.
I’m going to be anuncle.
“You hear me?” Knox asks, still giving his back to me. And it hits me like brass knuckles to the throat why. He’s not sure how I’ll take it. My brother—“Hard Knox” Gordon, two-time BFC heavyweight champion—is nervous about how I’ll receive the news that he’s going to have a baby with our brother’s widow.
Rolling back on the stool, I remove my gloves, stand, and circle him until I’m standing in front of him. And extend my hand. Lifting his head, he meets my gaze. His face is normal Knox—impenetrable, shuttered. But his eyes… They’re on fire.
He enfolds my hand in his, but it’s me who hauls him to his feet and yanks him into a tight embrace. Automatically, his arms clinch around me and squeeze. He’s a big motherfucker, so I can’t breathe, but I don’t let go. And neither does he.
Maybe because, in this moment, we’re both thinking of Connor. Of our laughing, funny, charismatic brother who’d been the heartbeat of our family. And how, maybe, with this baby that will belong to the older brother he adored and the woman he cherished, we can have another heartbeat.
We can have healing.
Laughing for no damn reason but just because, I slap Knox on the back, careful of the area I’ve already inked, and loosen my grip on him.
“Damn, man. Congratulations. I—” Shaking my head, I laugh harder, louder. “I don’t know what to say. Have you told anyone else?”
“No.” Knox drags his fingers over his head, almost dislodging the bun of hair only he can really pull off without it looking pussy-ish. “We just found out last night. Eden took the home test and…” He rubs his palms down the front of his thighs. “She wants to see her doctor first to verify before we announce the pregnancy to everyone.”
“Does she know you were going to tell me?”
