Knox snatched it up from the table and dropped it beside him. “You’re not going anywhere.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Footsteps padded down the stairs.

I dropped my shirt over the ice packs.

“Dare, I didn’t hear you come in. I thought I heard voices. Are you boys hungry?”

“Mom, Dare needs a place to crash for a while.” His jaw clenched, working like he’d bitten off a piece of the world’s driest jerky.

I’d never been one to beg for anything, but I pleaded then with my eyes.

Knox’s gaze narrowed. “His place is being fumigated.”

“Dare, we’ve always said you can stay as long as you need to. With your dad on the road all the time, and you all alone, we worry about you.” The edges of her eyes crinkled with a kindness that made me long for a mom of my own. Was that what mine would’ve been like? Or would she have piled on with my dad? Or been another person I’d failed to protect right along with myself?

“I’m going to get another steak out of the freezer for dinner.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Daniels.” I called out past the lump in my throat.

“Take some of these. I’ll get some more ice. Don’t even think about going back to your house. I’ll be right back.” Knox disappeared back upstairs.

From the hushed tones and slightly raised voices, he was probably telling his parents everything. His mouth was a leaky sieve, but I was too tired to care.

I rested my head against the back of the sofa and closed my eyes.

A heavy hand on my shoulder jolted me awake. I cringed and held my side.

The smell of a perfectly seasoned and cooked steak wafted over from the plate on the table.

“You can take two of these after you eat. But heads up, if you have trouble breathing or anything else even feels off with you, we’re taking you to the hospital.”

I nodded.

We ate in the basement, Knox watching me for every grimace or wince. Whatever he’d given me helped numb the pain, and the sofa bed called to me, ready to drag me down into the dark abyss of sleep.

“Do you have a CD player anywhere?”

Knox looked at me like I’d asked him for an 8-track or vinyl record player. “Maybe. Let me ask my parents.”

He came back down with a Discman and some headphones.

“Thanks.” I patted the black and silver player against my palm.

“All you ever had to do was ask, man. Of course I’d be there for you.”

I nodded and lay down on the soft, comfortable mattress—the best one I’d ever laid on until Bay’s. But that might have something to do with it being hers.

Rummaging through my bag, I spotted the clear jewel case. The streak of light from the top of the stairs reflected off the disc when I popped it out and slid it into the CD player.