Worth It

“What the devil was that?” my father groused as Mother gasped and clutched his arm.



“I think someone’s out there,” Max reported, lifting his hand to his eyes to shade some sunlight as he gazed into the woods.



I zipped my attention that way, only knowing of one person who frequented this forest. When I saw a shadow slipping through the trees, I gasped and set my hand against my chest.



“That better not be my fucking diaper vandal,” Garrett roared. He took off sprinting into the trees, and Max started after him.



Worried about Knox, I started off too, but Mother caught my arm and tripped me up. “Felicity! Do not go out there.”



I opened my mouth but had no idea how to answer.



Seconds later, I heard a shout, and then Garrett’s triumphant, “Got him!”



“Oh, God,” I whispered, praying it really was some random peeping Tom, and not Knox.



But luck wasn’t with me as both Max and Garrett dragged a resisting, scowling Knox into our yard.



As Mother continued to hold me back at her side, my father stepped forward, frowning. “What’re you doing on Bainbridge property, boy? Just who do you think you are?”



“He’s one of the Parkers,” Max reported, and Garrett growled. “Are you the asshat vandalizing my room with dirty fucking diapers?”



Knox glanced at him briefly. “Why would I vandalize your room when I know you weren’t the one to get my sister pregnant?” Then he sliced a glare Max’s way that was so hard and accusing I gulped in fear, worried he might try something to really get himself into trouble.



“Stop looking at me like that,” Max ordered just as Father glanced at my mother and said, “Call the sheriff.”



Mother nodded and turned toward the house to get a phone. I pulled free of her grip and remained where I was on the steps of the gazebo. Knox hadn’t looked at me yet, and I willed him to just as much as I willed him not to. I ached for some kind of message from him, reassuring me he was going to be okay, just as much as I feared he might give us away if he glanced anywhere toward me.



My father strolled up to him and caught his chin. As he moved Knox’s face up into the light, I saw a couple of scratches on his cheek. Covering my mouth with my hands, I hoped he was okay. If he’d been up in the tree watching us when the limb had fallen, he could’ve been hurt badly.



“What’re you doing here, boy?”



Knox jerked his chin from my father’s hand and glared at him with defiance. “I just wanted to see all the girls in their pretty dresses.”



I blinked at his answer, because it wasn’t something Knox—the Knox I knew—would ever say. I swear, he dumbed himself down just to irritate my father more.



It worked. Father’s scowl deepened. “What makes you think there would be any girls in dresses here?”



Knox began to glance my way, and I held my breath, but at the last second, he turned back to my father, a look of confusion crinkling his brow. “Isn’t this where that big, fancy cotillion’s supposed to be tonight?”



My father huffed, “No, it is not. Why in God’s name did you assume that?”



“Well...” Knox appeared to be genuinely confused. “This is the nicest house in the entire county. Where else would it be?”



The compliment threw my father. He sputtered for a minute before booming, “Well, you’re wrong. The cotillion is to take place at the antebellum center in town, I believe.”



“Oh.” Knox seemed chagrined as he blushed and said, “Sorry.”



Not sure how to deal with his apology, Father scowled harder. “Well...”



A police cruiser pulled into the drive and around to the side of the house where we were.



“I’ll just let the sheriff deal with you,” my father announced.



The sheriff lectured Knox for a few minutes about trespassing and peeping Tom laws, but since my father had lost his indignant rage, the sheriff was disinclined to arrest Knox for anything, and he let him go with a warning.



I knew my relief was a little too obvious, but I was also pretty sure no one was paying any attention to me, so I just kept blowing out the breath of pent-up worry I’d been holding inside me.



When my brothers finally let Knox go, he immediately turned for the forest to leave, but the sheriff shouted at him, telling him not to enter the woods again. He escorted Knox home by making him sit in the back of his police car.



As I stared at Knox through the back window of the car, a shiver of dread worked through me. A bad feeling struck, like a foreboding premonition. I knew this wasn’t the last time I’d see him this way.