Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
K ing watched her go, his eyes tracking every movement. He knew exactly who was calling, and the pain etched across her face made his chest tighten. He walked to the door and leaned against the doorframe. Crossing his arms, his gaze never leaving her. Their eyes met for a brief second, and he wished more than anything that he could take away the grief radiating from her. But she had to face this, and all he could do was be there when she did.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, snapping King’s attention to the source. His muscles tensed, ready for anything, until Kane rounded the corner. King let out a slow breath and relaxed slightly.
Kane gave Amara a slight nod as he passed her, then turned his attention to King. “What’s up?”
King didn’t shift from the doorway, unwilling to take his eyes off Amara for too long. “How’s the kid?” Kane asked, glancing in at Joey before looking back at him.
“He’s good,” King replied, though his frown deepened. “But he’s asking questions. Have you found anything out?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Kane said, leaning against the wall opposite him. “I messaged the woman who brought Joey to the ER. She responded. I told her to meet me here.”
King’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like that. “Why here?”
“Because she’s being followed,” Kane said, his expression grim. “Jinx did some digging, and the guy at the pub watching her is a private investigator.”
King swore under his breath, his mind racing.
Kane nodded. “I figured here, no one would have eyes on us. And this way, you can ask her any questions you need to without interference.”
King didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flickering back to Amara. He had too many questions, too many pieces of the puzzle that didn’t fit. But one thing was clear: whatever trouble Joey’s father had been involved in, it hadn’t died with him. This woman knew something; he felt it in his bones.
“You think she’ll show up?” King asked, his eyebrow cocked.
“She was warned that if she didn’t show up, I would find her,” Kane said with a smirk. “She’ll show. She’s afraid of something. She asked about the kid.”
“You don’t think she was involved?” King asked trusting Kane’s instincts since he himself hadn’t met this woman yet.
“Oh, she’s somehow involved, but do I think she hurt Joey or killed his dad? No, I don’t believe that," Kane answered, glancing at his watch.
“Joey said he was hit by a car.” King let Kane in on that information.
“What?” Kane’s features turned hard as he glared at King. “You fucking serious?”
“Unfortunately, I am.” King hissed. “And I will find whoever was behind that wheel even if it takes me a lifetime.”
A man in scrubs stopped beside Amara. Frowning, King pushed himself away from the wall and walked in that direction.
“Ms. Travin?” The man said when Amara hung up the phone.
“Yes,” Amara frowned, quickly glancing over her shoulder to see King walking toward them. The relief on her face told King so much. She was afraid and looked toward him for protection, and his protective instincts went into overdrive.
“I’m Dr. Winston.” He introduced himself, sticking his hand out. “I was coming to see how Joey was doing.”
Amara took his hand. “Thanks to you and Slade, he is doing better.”
“Well, you should thank yourself also.” He said, looking at her closely. Too closely for King’s liking, but he remained silent to see where this was going. He had a feeling it was going in the direction that was going to piss King off.
Amara shifted uncomfortably, her gaze dropping as she cleared her throat. “I was, um, just talking to the funeral home. Joey… he lost his father.” Her voice wavered slightly.
The doctor’s expression softened into a frown, shaking his head. “I heard,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Amara murmured. “Do you have any idea when Joey can be released? I need to give the funeral home a date.”
The doctor hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “As long as Dr. Buchanan clears him, he can go home,” he said, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “He’ll need a follow-up with an orthopedist, but if you don’t have one in mind, I’d be happy to see him at my office.” His gaze flickered toward the room before settling back on her.
“Oh, okay,” Amara said, surprised.
“Dr. Buchanan is his physician, so as long as his blood count is good, no fever or anything like that, I’m sure he can be released.” The doctor glanced at King and then back at Amara. “I’d like to get another set of x-rays before he’s discharged to ensure everything is healing properly. But he’ll need to stay off that leg for at least six weeks, no weight on it at all unless he heals faster than expected.”
“I’ll have to get him some crutches,” Amara said absently, but King watched the doctor and knew what was coming.
“Ms. Travin, I know Dr. Buchanan spoke to you about Joey’s healing,” he said, his tone laced with barely contained curiosity. “In all my years in orthopedics, I’ve never seen anything like it. It defies everything we understand about recovery.” He hesitated, then added, “My superiors have instructed me to keep this within the hospital, and I intend to respect that. But I’d like the opportunity to speak with you more about what I witnessed… possibly even study?—”
Amara shook her head sharply, cutting him off. “I’m sorry, but my focus right now is on Joey.”
The doctor’s brows furrowed, his voice quickening with urgency. “I don’t think you understand the potential of this. You could change lives. You could save lives.”
Before Amara could respond, King stepped in, his presence a solid, unwavering force beside her. “We appreciate everything you’ve done for Joey’s surgery and care, but that’s as far as this goes.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
The doctor sighed, disappointment clear in his posture. “Yes, of course,” he said, nodding. “I had to give it a shot."
Amara exhaled, ready to end the conversation, but she hesitated just as King began to lead her away. Turning back, she locked eyes with the doctor. “I didn’t say no,” she said quietly. “I’m just saying… not right now. Joey comes first. This is all new to me, and I need time to understand it myself before I can even think about anything else.”
The doctor studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you for at least considering it,” he said sincerely. “If Joey has any issues, my direct number will be on his paperwork.”
As he walked away, Amara exhaled slowly. King’s gaze lingered on her, and his voice had softened. “You okay?”
“I’m trying to be," she replied, frowning. “But I don’t think I’m doing a very good job. When he approached me, I was ready to run. I don’t like jumping at every shadow; that’s not who I am.”
Kane passed them with a purposeful stride, his voice low. “She’s here. I’ll be back.”
Amara’s frown deepened as she watched him disappear down the hallway. “Who’s here?” she asked, turning to King.
“The woman who brought Joey to the ER,” King said, frowning. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he admitted, looking at her.
Amara swallowed hard. “We need to know,” Amara replied, not sounding sure herself. “Maybe she can tell us who did this.”
King exhaled sharply, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shifted slightly, positioning himself between her and the approaching footsteps echoing down the hall. Protective. Always.
Kane walked to the main entrance of the hospital, his eyes scanning the area, and spotted her right away. He noticed she wore a pissed-off look on her face as she glared at him. He stopped in front of her.
“You think next time you could give me a little more of a heads up?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.
“Probably not,” Kane answered, his tone dry as he took in the woman standing in front of him.
She was small... really small. The top of her head barely reached his chest, but the way she glared up at him made it clear she didn’t care about their size difference. There was fire in her stance, a quiet defiance that told him she wasn’t easily intimidated.
She wore simple blue jeans, a black shirt, and a worn jean jacket, nothing flashy. Nothing that made her stand out. But it wasn’t her clothes that caught his attention...it was her eyes.
Her dark hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, stray strands falling loose to frame her face. Her bangs barely brushed against the thick, dark lashes that framed the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. It wasn’t just their color; it was how they held his gaze, unflinching, filled with something he couldn’t quite name.
Kane didn’t like mysteries. And this woman? She was definitely a mystery.
“I do have a life. A job. A dog.” She cocked her eyebrow at him. Kane couldn’t help the grin that tipped one side of his mouth at the mention of her dog. “I can’t just up and leave when the mighty Warrior calls.”
“Dark Guardian.” He corrected her but continued to grin.
“Whatever,” She huffed, glancing away, then shifted her gaze back to him. “What are you grinning about?”
“Nothing really.” Kane liked to fuck with people. It was one of his things, and he was good at it. Bringing out this woman’s fiery side was entertaining as hell. “I just figured you for a cat lady.”
“Is this what you called me down here for?” She put her hand on her cocked hip. “To just piss me off because I have better things to do.”
“I bet you have an ankle bitter. One of those yappers.” King continued to fuck with her. “Chihuahua named...Taco.”
She rolled her eyes, but Kane noticed her lips tremble with a smile. “You’re an asshole.” She hissed, then sighed. “What do you want, Warrior ?”
Kane’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you continue to call me a Warrior?”
“Because it clearly pisses you off.” She then smiled this time, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. It was more of a fuck you grin, and she looked absolutely gorgeous. “Two can play at this game. Now, why don’t you tell me what you want?”
Yeah, she was tough, no doubt about it. But Kane could still read the fear behind those striking blue eyes. They darted around, scanning the room like she expected something or someone to jump out at any second.
“It’s time for you to tell me everything you know, Monica.”
The way her body tensed told him he’d caught her off guard. Her eyes widened, then narrowed sharply. “I never told you my name.”
“No, you didn’t.” Kane gave a slow, deliberate nod. “You also didn’t tell me you’re a Victims Advocate, have been for five years now. Before that, you waited tables at the Golden Corral in Eastgate, volunteered at a women’s shelter, and still do. You lived at 65 Ross Road until recently, when you upgraded to 545 River View. Nice neighborhood, by the way. Solid choice.”
Monica’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker, her lips pressing into a tight line. “Who the hell are you?”
“Not a Warrior.” Kane’s voice dropped, turning deadly serious. “I told you I could find you if you ignored my calls. Lucky for you, you answered. Consider this your only warning.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard, her eyes darting again. “Listen, if I’m seen talking to you, I’m dead,” she whispered, barely moving her lips. “It doesn’t matter if you’re a Warrior or Dark…dickhead. It doesn’t matter.”
Kane sighed, shaking his head. “Guardian.”
“Whatever,” she hissed, shifting her weight like she was about to bolt. “I can’t be seen with you.”
Kane crossed his arms, leaning slightly toward her. “Guardians don’t have the same level of attention as the VC Warriors. We fly under the radar. No one knows who or what I am. Now, we’re going upstairs, where a VC Warrior is waiting to talk to you.”
“Shit,” Monica muttered under her breath, shaking her head. “This just keeps getting worse.”
“If you need protection, we can provide that,” Kane told her, his tone hardening. “But if this is a setup, I will kill you myself.” He wasn’t in the habit of killing humans, especially women, but she didn’t need to know that. She needed to understand just how serious this was. “Joey and Amara have been through enough hell already. We need answers, and you’re going to give them to us. Are we clear?”
Monica’s jaw clenched, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “Crystal,” she said tightly. Then, after a beat, her expression softened just enough. “Look, if I was going to say anything to anyone, they’d already be here.”
“And they’d already be dead.” Kane didn’t sugarcoat it. “Joey and Amara are under our protection, and we don’t take that lightly.”
He reached out, wrapping his fingers around her arm firm enough to let her know there was no backing out now. As he led her toward the elevators, he felt the subtle tremor in her muscles. She was scared, but she wasn’t backing down. He respected that.
The elevator doors slid open, and as they stepped inside, Monica let out a quiet breath. “By the way,” she said as the doors closed. “I don’t have a chihuahua named Taco.”
Kane frowned, turning his head to look at her. “No?”
“No,” she confirmed, her lips quirking. “I have a Belgian Malinois named Knox. But I’m thinking of changing his name to Stake.”
“Steak?” Kane’s brow furrowed, confused. “Like in T-bone?”
Monica shot that ‘fuck you’ smile. “No. Like in wooden.”
For a moment, Kane just stared at her. He then, unexpectedly, threw his head back and let out a loud, genuine laugh. It had been a long time since someone caught him off guard like that, and damn if he didn’t appreciate it. “Vampire humor,” he said with a nod of approval. “Nice.”
“I thought so,” she murmured with a slight shrug, her attention shifting back to the elevator doors.
Kane, however, kept watching her, his laughter fading into something more thoughtful. There was something different about this woman. Something he hadn’t quite put his finger on yet. But hell…he was looking forward to figuring it out.
The elevator dinged as the doors slid open. It was now time to hear her story. He had called in Adam to ensure they would know if she was lying. Tonight, they would have answers.