Knox walks around the car and reaches for my hand. His palm is warm and steady. Mine isn’t. I let him hold it anyway.
“I want to give you a little view into my past life,” he says.
And then he urges me forward, heading for the dark building. It’s quiet out here, too quiet, and every step we take makes the gravel crunch beneath our shoes. My heart thuds harder with each sound.
When we reach the door, Knox lifts his hand and knocks. A second later, a little metal panel slides open from the inside. Someone’s eyes peek out.
“Evening, Storm,” a deep voice says. “Didn’t expect you tonight.”
“Showing my girlfriend around,” Knox replies.
“Pretty one you’ve got there.”
“She is.”
I feel like I’m being auctioned.
The door creaks open. A bouncer steps aside to let us through.
“I’ll call and
