Knight

  Damaged Devils #15

  Charity Parkerson

  Punk & Sissy Publications

  Copyright

  The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. The author and/or publisher does not give permission to use these works to train AI. This includes the scanning and uploading into AI systems. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not take part in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Brief passages may be quoted for review purposes if credit is given to the copyright holder. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Any resemblances to person(s) living or dead, is completely coincidental. All items contained within this novel are products of the author’s imagination. AI was not used in any way to create this book. The author and publisher only support human artists.

  —Warning: This book is intended for readers over the age of 18. Some of my books contain allusions to past abuse and trauma.

  Copyright © 2024 Charity Parkerson

  Editor: BZ Hercules & Consultants

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Author Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  About the Author

  Content

  Introduction

  Knight lives by his name from the military to taking in a friend in need. No good deed goes unpunished.

  It started when an adorable pink-haired sprite slipped into Knight’s life. Before that moment, Knight hadn’t realized how much a person could love their best friend. Unfortunately, that friendship has him knee deep in the world of crime. Even more unfortunate for him, this predicament has Knight incapable of staying away from the most dangerous man he’s ever met. It might mean his downfall.

  Royal had his emotions stripped from him years ago. He’s been trained to do one thing: kill. For now, he’s doing what needs to be done to survive. That means living with a family who thinks he can be redeemed. That ship sailed a long time ago. But now there’s this ridiculously hot art teacher who’s in over his head and Royal can’t stop thinking about him. Several times, he’s considered killing him so he can move on, except he can’t. That’s never happened to him. It’s a puzzle Royal has to solve before the clock runs out and Knight learns the truth.

  Knight is the fifteenth book in Charity Parkerson’s Damaged Devils series. These are dark romance stories with crime lords, assassins, and sociopaths who find their hearts. They are best enjoyed when read in order.

  Author Note

  This is a dark romance series filled with possible triggers. If you need a list, you can skip to the content warning after the About the Author page or check my website: charityparkerson.com/damaged-devils

  Chapter One

  Bedroom eyes. Royal had never truly understood that saying before Knight. As he watched him through the scope of his high-powered rifle, that was exactly what he saw. The sexiest brown bedroom eyes. Half nude and posing for his art class, every muscle flexed for Royal’s viewing pleasure. Despite that, he couldn’t look away from Knight’s face. A tiny smirk appeared on Knight’s lips, as if he knew Royal watched. Royal could kill him now. Be done with the thoughts he put in Royal’s head. The feelings he stirred. It was just lust. Royal could find that anywhere. He should kill him. Royal’s finger hovered over the trigger. He was only here to observe. Royal fought the intrusive thoughts.

  Knight glanced behind him and relaxed, pulling Royal from the edge. He grabbed a nearby shirt and pulled it on as students gathered their things. Royal checked his watch. It seemed school had ended while he had been trapped in his head. He broke down his bipod and packed away his rifle. Royal tried to keep his mind clear. It was his self-appointed responsibility to keep Knight safe. All because Pink was soft. Five years ago, a man named Quentin had appeared like a superhero and rescued Royal from an organization that trained assassins. Royal supposed he had needed saving. He couldn’t say. It had been at least a decade since he felt anything at all. At this point, Royal was like an animal protecting his food. Except, in his case, Royal needed to keep his constant cover story safe. He had to play his part. Quentin’s adopted son, Pink, had befriended Knight. That led all the way back to why it would be easier to kill him. Quentin wanted Knight to be protected. That meant Pink had told the guy all their secrets. Royal didn’t trust Knight wouldn’t sell them out to stay out of jail if put to the test. When that day came, then Royal would have no other choice but to kill him. Until then, Royal tossed his bag in his Jeep. It was time for another daily struggle to begin: fighting the urge to kiss Knight… again.

  Royal lost his breath just thinking about it. Knight had a way of taking Royal from zero to a million in less than a second. One moment, Royal felt nothing at all. The next, Knight would have him begging to get his dick touched.

  It took him ten minutes to get a parking spot with everyone pouring out of the community college where Knight taught. He headed inside, trying not to get irritated over the way his heart rate kicked up with every step he took closer to Knight. Royal chalked it up to irritation. He could be taking paying jobs right now. Instead, he was ensuring Knight didn’t end up on the short end of the law stick so he wouldn’t hang them all.

  As Royal neared Knight’s classroom, he heard voices coming from inside. It seemed Knight wasn’t alone. Royal picked up the pace. He rounded the corner. Knight looked visibly uncomfortable as a woman kept touching him and moving closer as she spoke. She played with her hair and bit her lip. All the body language was there. She wanted Knight. Knight wore the expression of a pinned down rat.

  Royal strolled into the room. “There you are. I’ve been waiting in the parking lot.” He squeezed between them and kissed Knight’s cheek. “We have to go, babe. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for that thing.”

  Knight’s eyes filled with relief. “Sorry. You’re right.”

  The woman’s blue gaze moved between them. “Oh. Ohhh.” Realization obviously dawned on her. “I’m sorry to keep you. I didn’t know your… man was waiting.”

  Knight pasted on a kind smile. “It’s no problem, but Royal’s right. We have tickets for this thing, and we need to get moving.”

  “Oh. Of course. See you Monday.” She scooped up her art supplies and practically ran for the door.

  Knight’s sexy brown gaze slid his way. That goddamn tiny smirk reappeared. “I guess I should thank you for the rescue.”

  An uncomfortable sensation ran across Royal’s skin. He turned away and eyed the sculptures in process. Royal moved from stand to stand, studying each piece. He came to one more detailed than the rest. Loving attention had been given to Knight’s face and abs.

  Royal hummed. “Let me guess. This one is your little admirer’s work.”

  Knight sat on the edge of his desk. “No. She’s not as good as that. What have you done with your day?”

  Royal ignored the question. He continued studying the various works in progress. “Why sculpting? Surely these people don’t think they’ll find actual work with this skill.”

  “Art isn’t always about money, but it’s also history. Beauty. Everything people do for entertainment outside of their mediocre jobs is thanks to art.”

  Royal hummed again. He knew the sound screamed disbelief. Truthfully, he wanted Knight to keep trying to convince him. There was no one sexier than Knight when he showed a passion for his work.

  Knight released an irritated huff and slipped from the desk. “Come here.” He pulled out his phone and tapped around while Royal moved to his side. Knight turned the device his way. “Look at this sculpture. It’s called The Veiled Virgin. It was sculpted by Giovanni Strazza in the early eighteen fifties. Look at that veil. This is marble. The genius needed to create this, making it look like an actual lace veil. Amazing.”

  Royal stared at Knight’s phone. They had moved so close, he felt Knight’s breath on his cheek. He turned his head. Knight watched him. Their faces were inches apart. “Beautiful.” Royal heard the gruffness to his tone.

  A bright smile lit Knight’s face. “It really is. Let me show you another. This one is called—”

  “I wasn’t talking about the virgin thing.”

  Knight didn’t respond. They held each other’s stare in silence. Royal wished he knew what it was about Knight. He looked exactly like the art teacher he was. Goatee. Shoulder-length hair. Royal didn’t have a type, since he had less than zero interest in sex before meeting Knight. If he had thought about it, though, he still wouldn’t have expected Knight to be the one who brought something to life inside him. He should have killed him.

  Royal moved away, removing himself from temptation. “Are you ready to go home?”

  With a shake of his head, Knight stuffed his phone into his back pocket. “You’re so confusing. Sure. Let’s go.” He gathered his things while Royal watched and stewed.

  “How am I confusing?” Goddamn it. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t fucking care about any of this shit

.

  Knight turned off the lights. “It’s not important.”

  Royal tried to let it go. He really did. In fact, they made it all the way to the car. As he watched Knight buckle his seatbelt, he broke. “Seriously. How do I confuse you?”

  Knight shrugged. “It’s just that I’m pretty sure you actually hate me, but then there’s a whole other side of you. I can’t tell which side of you is real. It’s just confusing.”

  “Oh.” Royal started the car and headed for home. Knight’s explanation cleared up everything. He wasn’t misreading the situation. Sometimes, Royal did hate Knight. He loathed the way his body stirred when they stood too close. Royal resented how many times he had stroked himself in the dark to the memory of their kiss. He didn’t blame Knight for not understanding. How could he? Knight hadn’t lived Royal’s life. If he had, he would hate this too. Royal wasn’t supposed to feel. Emotions equaled pain. Royal had suffered enough. He couldn’t live that life again. Royal was free now. He wouldn’t go back.

  The muscle that worked in Royal’s jaw always fascinated Knight as much as it terrified him. Royal was a mystery to him. He was hard and unbending. Yet sometimes Royal seemed young and sponge-like, as if he had missed a huge chunk of important education and desperately wanted to absorb everything now. Knight stared at his light brown hair and gray eyes. When the sunlight hit those eyes… goddamn. He stole Knight’s breath.

  “How old are you?” The question had been eating at Knight for a while.

  Royal cast a quick glance Knight’s way while he drove. “I don’t know.”

  That caught Knight off guard. “How do you not know?”

  “I was bought by the society at eleven. There weren’t any calendars, clocks, or even holidays showing the passage of time. No one celebrated my birthday. All of that was stripped from me.”

  “When is your birthday?”

  Royal shrugged. “It’s sometime in October. I don’t remember the day.”

  Knight stared at Royal in disbelief. He could be any age. Knight couldn’t imagine knowing nothing about himself. While Pink had lived with him, he had tried explaining the entire society slash academy situation to him. But Pink’s life had differed from Royal’s. He had been a sexual slave. Royal had been trained to kill. Tortured into having no emotions.

  “So you have no clue how old you are whatsoever?” Knight simply couldn’t wrap his head around it.

  Royal looked uncomfortable for the first time, making Knight regret his prying. Despite his obvious disquiet, Royal continued answering Knight’s intrusive questions. “After I came to live with Quentin, I had to go through a lot of medical exams and treatments to recover from years of neglect and abuse. The doctor I saw said his best guess was I was close to twenty. Give or take a year. When Quentin let me choose my new identity, I chose twenty-one just to avoid the irritating milestones in the U.S. So, if you go by that, I’m twenty-six.”

  Knight could understand Royal wanting to bypass American milestones. Royal had been born in Greece. America’s nonsensical laws on age likely chafed, especially since his background meant he had been an adult his entire life. “What birthdate did you choose for yourself?”

  “October second.” Royal turned into the driveway of Knight’s temporary home. “I’m pretty sure my birthday was close to the beginning of the month. When I lived on the streets for a short time before getting scooped up by the orphanage, there was this old homeless woman who read tarot cards to tourists. I can remember her making a big deal about me being a Libra. So I chose as best I could. I don’t know why that memory stuck with me.” He pulled into one of the several garage bays and killed the engine. His sexy gaze swung Knight’s way. “I guess this entire situation seems nuts to you. You probably had an apple pie life with birthday parties at that kiddie prison with the rat and the pizzas.”

  “Kiddie prison,” Knight repeated, chuckling.

  Royal didn’t stop. “You probably had Christmas with a huge family who barely tolerated each other but spoiled you. Every night, your mom tucked you into bed and still would if you’d let her.”

  “My mom died of cancer almost four years ago.”

  Royal went quiet for a moment. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I guess I knew that.” He opened the car door and climbed from the vehicle.

  Knight followed, needing more. “How did you know that?”

  Royal glanced over his shoulder at Knight as he headed inside. “I investigated you when Pink moved in with you. You don’t seriously think Quentin would let his son live with just anyone, do you?”

  He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Royal just always left him feeling at a disadvantage. He still wasn’t ready to stop talking, though. “What else did you learn?”

  Royal walked backward and held Knight’s stare. That maddening and gorgeous smirk Knight couldn’t resist touched his lips.

  “Ask me tonight. Nine. My room. Bring wine and I’ll provide the dessert.”

  Knight couldn’t stop smiling. “Why does this sound like an excuse to get me alone near a bed?”

  Royal stopped walking. His expression turned serious. “I don’t trick people into bed.”

  Knight nodded. He felt guilty for saying something that likely triggered Royal. Royal probably loathed the idea of anything even the slightest bit nonconsensual. Knight smiled, hoping to change the tone. “I don’t doubt it. People probably trip over themselves to get to you.”

  Royal’s gaze moved over Knight’s face. He didn’t look as if Knight’s words fixed anything. Then again, Royal was almost always unreadable. “That’s not the case at all. Nine. Wine.” He turned away without waiting for Knight’s agreement. They both knew he would be there. For whatever reason, Royal had his attention. Knight couldn’t look away until he found out why the guy consumed his thoughts. Maybe not even then.

  Chapter Two

  It was insane that such a beautiful home could feel like a prison. Quentin Montgomery had old money. The kind that went so far back, it would be hard to trace. His home reflected that vast wealth. A huge mansion on the edge of the bayou. The place was amazing. That didn’t change the fact that Knight had his own home and was tired of feeling trapped here. His crime? Knight had the incredible misfortune of having a friend at the FBI. That friend had confided Quentin and his “family” were under investigation. Since Quentin had bought several men over the years to free them from the same program that destroyed Royal, those good deeds looked very bad on paper. Like human trafficking bad.

  Quentin had very high ties in the government, protecting him. Unfortunately, Knight did not. Since Pink had lived with him for months and confided Quentin’s dealings to Knight, Knight was now in the very real danger of having any hardcore promotion-seeking FBI agent haul him in, offering immunity for testimony. It didn’t matter anything he knew would be hearsay. He could very well be their first domino. For that reason, Knight was stuck living under Quentin’s roof and protection for however long it took to ensure no one would dare go after him. Plus, Knight was a chink in the family’s armor that could be exploited by any high-paid killer who wanted to strike at Quentin for freeing so many graduates of the program. It seemed many of the societies and academies had been decimated in the past few years, leaving the source of mercenaries in short supply. There was a lot of underground shady shit that went on in the world. Everyone was better off not knowing about any of it. Knight was retired special forces. He could take care of himself. Royal had been the one to persuade him to take up Quentin’s offer of protection. Fucking Royal. Why wouldn’t he get out of Knight’s head?

  The need to know that answer was why Knight presented himself at nine o’clock sharp with a bottle of wine he picked from Quentin’s wine cellar. If he had to stay here, Knight would take advantage where he could. Knight took a deep breath and knocked on Royal’s door. When it opened, Knight had to force his eyes to stay level with Royal’s. Goddamn. In a tank top and shorts made of sweatpants material, he looked fucking delicious. His hard muscles and olive skin made Knight’s mouth water.

 

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