Knox
Knox sat around the large dining table that was filled with
his family and listened contentedly as everyone spoke over
each other and passed dishes back and forth. Sunday night
dinners were his favorite night of the week. Even though
two of his favorite people were missing from the table and
they would always be remembered and missed, being able
to be around everyone else was one of the only things that
settled his soul.
Even though he wasn’t related to any of the men at the
table, they were more his family than his parents ever had
been, and he loved them all dearly. The only two men who
were actually related at the table were Pop and Beau. Pop
had brought the rest of them into the family when they were
teenagers to get them each out of the bad situations that
they were in.
Other than Pop, all of the men considered each other
brothers. Knox, Ash, Wolf, Colt, Hawk, Maddox, Angel, and
Beau sat around the table with Pop seated at the head. Each
week, they rotated who cooked the family dinner, though
most of the time, several of the guys showed up early to
help cook because they all enjoyed hanging out together.
Tonight, it had been Hawk’s turn to make dinner, which
meant it was a pretty decent meal since Hawk loved to cook
and try new gourmet recipes.
Pop held up his beer and cleared his throat. Everyone
stopped talking and looked at the older man. Leo Javier was
no saint, especially being the head of the largest
underground fighting circuit on the West Coast, but he was
one of the best men that Knox had ever known, and he
would always respect the man and consider him to be his
father.
“A toast to all of my boys. I’m so proud of you and the
men that you’ve become. And a toast to Celeste and Ma.”
Everyone raised their drinks to toast, and even though
Pop practically gave the same toast every week, it still
choked Knox up. He had never felt like a man worth being
proud of, but Pop always made sure each of the men knew
that he loved him and that he was proud of them. It was
also a grim reminder of the two people that they were all
missing in their lives. He wasn’t sure if they would ever
move on from those losses.
“To family,” they all said in unison as they took a drink
from their glasses and bottles.
Knox drove through the Seattle traffic toward home. He
and his brothers all lived in separate houses on the same
dead-end street in the West Hills of Seattle. It was one of the
things that Knox loved most about his house. He knew all of
his neighbors since they were his brothers.
Revving the engine of his classic 1967 Chevrolet Camaro,
Knox sped down the wet streets. He knew the city like the
back of his hand. Every back road, ally, and every hidden
area. It was his home, and he’d spent many years of his
youth getting into trouble on those streets. He couldn’t
imagine ever living anywhere else.
It only took him twenty minutes to get from Pop’s house
to his own, and as he pulled into his driveway, he saw
several of his brothers pulling into their driveways
simultaneously. Pressing the button on his garage app, Knox
drove into his garage and parked next to his truck.
Once he was inside, Knox went directly upstairs to his
bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed. He felt emptier
inside than he had ever felt before. Sure, he had his
brothers and Pop, but he felt like he was missing something.
Something that he hadn’t even realized he wanted and
something he sure as hell didn’t deserve. And even though
he didn’t deserve it, it didn’t make the want go away.
Kicking off his boots, he stripped out of his clothes before
he dropped down into his bed and tried to ignore the
sadness inside of him as he drifted to sleep.
The following morning, Knox parked at The Cage, the
MMA gym that his brother Beau owned. As soon as he got
out of his truck, Beau pulled his truck into the spot next to
him. It was only seven in the morning, but Beau and Knox
had a standing Monday morning sparring session together.
They called it their brotherly bonding time.
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