Ride or Cry

The Lock That Didn't Hold

Chapter 11: The Lock That Didn't Hold

Maya doesn't scream. She wants to. Every instinct in her body is screaming scream, but her throat has closed up and all that comes out is a small, strangled sound. Like a mouse stepping on a tack.

She stares at the phone. The unblocked number. The empty thread. The evidence that someone has been in her space, touched her things, stood where she sleeps.

The door to her room has a lock. She checked it last night. Turned the little metal button and heard it click. It's an old lock — the kind you could probably open with a credit card if you knew what you were doing. But who would know? Who would care?

Cole. Derek. Someone else entirely.

She realizes she's been standing at the bottom of the stairs for too long. Jesse is watching her from the bar, head tilted, nose ring catching the light. He's seen something in her face. The mask slipped.

"You okay?" he calls.

Maya shoves the phone into her back pocket. Forces a smile. "Fine. Just tired."

"You've been saying that a lot."

"Because it's true."

She walks to the bar, picks up a rag, starts wiping. The motion is automatic. Her hands are shaking, but she keeps them busy. If she stops, she'll fall apart.

Jesse doesn't buy it. She can feel his eyes on her. But he doesn't push. Just goes back to polishing glasses and pretending the world isn't spinning off its axis.

The office door opens. Knox comes out, phone in hand, face unreadable. He looks at Maya. She looks at him. Something passes between them — a question, an answer, neither of them ready to speak it out loud.

"Jesse," Knox says, "take the front. Maya, come with me."

It's not a request.

She follows him into the office. He closes the door. Locks it. The same lock she trusted upstairs, now suddenly feeling flimsy.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"Don't." His voice is sharp. Not angry — scared. He's scared. "I've been watching you all day. You're jumpy. You're not eating. You keep checking your phone like it's going to bite you. Something happened. Tell me."

Maya's hand moves to her back pocket. The phone is warm against her palm. She could show him. Could end this whole charade and let him handle it.

But if she shows him, she admits she's not safe. And she's spent three days convincing herself she finally is.

"I got a text," she says. The words come out flat. "Last night. After we talked outside."

Knox's jaw tightens. "From who?"

"I don't know. Unknown number." She pulls out the phone, unlocks it, shows him the empty thread. "It said 'I know where you are.' That's all. I blocked the number. But today, when I checked... it was unblocked. And the message was gone."

He takes the phone from her. His fingers are rough, careful. He scrolls through her contacts, her settings, her call log. "Someone was in your phone."

"Someone was in my room, Knox. The door was locked."

He looks up. His eyes are dark, dark, dark. "Did you leave a key anywhere?"

"No. I didn't even have a key. The lock is just a button."

"Shit." He hands the phone back. Runs a hand over his face. The scar above his eyebrow stands out, pale against his flushed skin. "Shit."

"Who could have done it?"

"I don't know. Cole. One of his guys. Someone passing through. This place isn't Fort Knox — it's a bar in the middle of nowhere. If someone wanted to get in, they could."

Maya's legs feel weak. She sits down on the edge of the desk. The wood is cold under her thighs. "So I'm not safe. Even here."

Knox crouches in front of her. Eye level. Close enough that she can see the tiny veins in his eyes, the exhaustion he's been hiding. "You're safe with me. I promise you that."

"You can't promise that. You don't even know who it was."

"Then we'll find out." He reaches out, hesitates, then puts his hand on her knee. Warm. Heavy. Grounding. "You're not alone in this, Maya. I told you that. Whatever's coming — Derek, Cole, whoever — we face it together."

She wants to believe him. God, she wants to believe him.

"There's more," she admits.

His hand tightens on her knee. "Tell me."

"The text. The way it was phrased. 'I know where you are.' That's Derek. That's how he talks. He never says 'I miss you' or 'come back.' He says things like that. Like he's collecting information. Like he's hunting."

"Derek is your ex."

"My ex-fiancé. The one who cheated. The one I ran from." She takes a breath. It shakes on the way out. "He's not violent. Not physically. But he's... persistent. He doesn't let go of things. And he has money. Enough to hire someone."

Knox's jaw works side to side. "You think he hired Cole?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Cole showing up the same day I get a threatening text? That's not a coincidence."

"No," Knox agrees. "It's not."

They stay like that for a long moment. Him crouched in front of her. Her sitting on the desk. His hand on her knee. The lock on the door. The weight of everything unsaid.

"New rule," Knox says finally. "You don't sleep upstairs alone anymore."

"What?"

"You heard me. From now on, you sleep down here. In the office. There's a couch. It's not comfortable, but it's got a deadbolt and no windows. Or you sleep in my room."

Maya blinks. "Your room?"

"It's above the shop. Separate entrance. Locked. Secure." He says it like he's offering her a business arrangement, not a place in his bed. "I'm not trying to— I'm not making a move. I just need you somewhere I can protect you."

She searches his face. Finds nothing but sincerity. And fear. He's afraid for her. That's a strange thing to see on a man like Knox.

"Your room," she says slowly. "Just for tonight?"

"Just until we figure out who's doing this."

She nods. "Okay."

He stands up. Offers her his hand. She takes it. His palm is rough, calloused, warm. He pulls her to her feet and doesn't let go.

"Grab your things," he says. "I'll wait for you."

Maya walks to the door. Unlocks it. Looks back at him. "Knox?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For not making me feel crazy."

He almost smiles. "You're not crazy. You're just smart enough to be scared. There's a difference."

She goes upstairs. Packs her bag in thirty seconds — the few clothes she has, her toothbrush, the romance novel from the closet because why not. She doesn't look at the bed. Doesn't think about someone standing there, touching her phone, breathing her air.

When she comes down, Knox is waiting by the back door. Jesse gives her a look — confused, concerned — but doesn't ask. Tank nods like he understands. Ghost is back, standing in the shadows, and he steps aside to let her pass.

Outside, the night is cold and clear. The stars are out again. But Maya doesn't look up. She follows Knox across the gravel lot to a small building behind the bar. A staircase. A door. A deadbolt.

His room is simple. A bed. A dresser. A few photos on the wall — bikes, brothers, a woman who might be his mother. It smells like him. Leather and cedar and something clean.

"The bed's yours," he says. "I'll take the floor."

"Knox—"

"It's not negotiable."

He grabs a blanket from the closet. Spreads it on the floor. Lies down with his back to her, facing the door.

Maya stands in the middle of the room, holding her bag, feeling like an intruder in someone else's life.

"Thank you," she whispers.

He doesn't answer. But his hand reaches back, pats the edge of the mattress once, and then rests on the floor.

She lies down. Pulls the blanket up to her chin. The pillow smells like him. She closes her eyes.

For the first time in two nights, she sleeps.

End of Chapter 11