Mr. Knight/A Jordan Knight Fanfic ✔️

9

9. ballad

Jordan—no, Knight—drives me home. Every time he opens his mouth, I tell him to shut up. Eventually he quits trying to explain, hopefully realizing there's not a damned thing he can say to make this better. He's married. The end.

When he stops outside my apartment building, I'm out of the car in seconds, running to the front door.

"Darcy, please!" he yells through the open window.

The only sound I want to make is a scream. Clamping my lips shut, I tear open the door and dart across the lobby. I jab the elevator button repeatedly. It finally opens, and I crash into the person walking out.

The man grabs my shoulders to steady me. "Darcy! What's wrong?"

I look up numbly at Griffen. "Nothing," I mumble, unable to meet his eyes.

"Not nothing," he says firmly. "You're crying. Did someone do something to you? Talk to me."

I glance involuntarily toward the front doors, but the BMW is gone. Relief and the beginnings of sanity flow into my brain.

"Sorry," I say, wiping my face quickly. "Really, I'm fine. Just get emotional when I drink."

I can tell he's unconvinced, but he doesn't press me. "If there's anything I can do to help, will you please tell me?"

"Yes, thanks," I say, ducking past him into the elevator.

The doors slowly close on his concerned face. His chivalry reminds me so much of my brother that by the time I reach the fifth floor, I'm sobbing. Horrible, half-drunk heaves that won't stop no matter how hard I try to hold them in.

The doors open on Claire, phone in hand. "God, Darcy! Griff just texted me. Honey, come here." She pulls me from the wall and into the hallway, wrapping her arms tightly around me. "Tell me what happened. Who do I have to kill?"

I snort-sob into her shoulder. "I wish it was that simple," I whisper, lifting my teary face to see hers. "He's married, Claire. Google didn't say he was married."

Her eyes widen. "Knight? That's who picked you up? Jesus, this requires a drink."

She pulls me by the hand into our apartment and deposits me on the sofa. A minute later, she hands me a tumbler with a splash of whiskey. I swallow it, coughing at the burn on my raw throat.

Claire settles beside me. "Spill."

"I was going to do it. Sleep with him. I want... wanted him so much. More than... it's not rational, feeling this way." I take a shuddering breath. "He kissed me Wednesday night. In the rain. It was magic. Now it's a bad TV drama."

She pauses, absorbing the words. "How did you find out he's married?"

I laugh darkly. "She was at his house waiting for him. He'd just... we just..." I knuckle my eyes. "He'd just gotten me off on the car ride there. Clothes on. Just his hand outside my pants."

Claire sucks in a breath. "Uhh, wow. And his so-called wife? What was she doing?"

"Standing on the front porch. The light was behind her, so I couldn't see her very well... but she definitely saw us. She wasn't happy. Neither was he."

Claire rubs her forehead. "This is messed up. They must be separated, right? I mean, he hasn't been exactly celibate since the quarter started."

I groan. "Has everyone but me seen him with a trail of well-used women behind him?"