Chapter 8
HARPER-RAYN
Asoft knock has my eyes springing open, and I madly grasp at my throat, realizing that there’s nothing there, no arm around my throat, no masked stalker whispering in my ear about slaughtering the men in my life, and no chilling stare watching me through my rearview mirror.
“Whoa. Dr. Madden?” a voice calls from outside my car window. “Are you alright?”
My heart races, and I take a few calming breaths as I try to find my bearings before turning and glancing out the window to find Vincent, the night janitor, staring in at me, his face pressed up against the window.
“Oh, ummm . . . yeah. I’m alright,” I tell him, discreetly checking the back seat of my car, making sure I’m well and truly alone in here. “I must have crashed out after my shift.”
“Hey, no need to explain it to me,” he says with a small laugh. “I get it.”
I wipe my hands down my face, and I find myself checking the back again just to be sure, only there’s not a single sign of the masked stalker, leaving me wondering if maybe I’d somehow imagined this as well. But the ache in my throat suggests otherwise.
I try to shake it off, blowing out a heavy breath when a single black rose on my dashboard demands my full attention.
Fuck.
Knight was right to have Tony walk me out to my car, but I never could have anticipated this.
I suppose I should be grateful that my stalker didn’t slaughter me right here in my driver’s seat and has allowed me the honor of living another day, of spending another night wrapped in Knight’s arms. But then, why the hell would he gift me something like that, especially when he had me right where he wanted me?
Does he have some grand plan in store for me?
Has he not tormented me nearly enough? Not gotten off on the sounds of my terrified screams?
Not stood over me and stolen the innocence right out of my soul?
When is enough, enough?
This asshole is only just getting started, and just the idea of what he could potentially want with me makes my stomach turn.
Distantly noticing that the car is still running, I cut the engine and push out into the parking garage.
It’s still dark, and considering the number of people currently weaving in and out of the cars, it’s safe to assume we’re creeping up to five in the morning—shift change.
Meaning I’m now at least forty-five minutes late arriving home, so I think it’s safe to assume that Knight is already searching for my body, assuming the worst.
“You look shaken,” Vincent says, a deep concern in his tone, reminding me just how many people in my life actually give a shit. “Are you sure everything is alright?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I tell him, starting to feel like a broken record. “It’s been a weird few weeks for me. I had, uhhh . . . some time off, and tonight was my first shift back. I guess the exhaustion just crept up on me.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks. “It’s unlike you to have so much time off. Vacation?”
A surprised scoff rumbles through my chest. “I wish,” I say, staring at him for a moment.
Most people have already heard about the doctor who nearly bled out in the parking garage.
It’s basically hospital gossip where Amelia is being rained as the local hero.
Though she deserves every bit of that credit.
I just wish everyone else could find something else to talk about.
As for Vincent, though, he generally keeps to himself.
He’s never here during the day, and most night shift workers just want to mind their own business.
Besides, he’s too occupied with his daughters to find a moment to care about hospital gossip. “You really haven’t heard?”
“Haven’t heard what?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, shaking my head, not wanting to get into it.
After all, I see Vincent almost every night, and I don’t need him looking at me with the same concerned stare Dr. McKullan hit me with tonight.
I can’t bear pitying stares. I’d almost prefer to face Knight’s wrath than to deal with someone else’s misplaced pity. “How are you doing? How are the girls?”
Vincent’s eyes light up like they always do when someone asks about his kids, and he immediately launches into his latest update on how his daughter has been settling into kindergarten, and while it’s been a rough journey, little Lila seems to be making progress.
We catch up for about twenty minutes, and when he lets me know that he’s officially back for good after also taking some time off, I’ve never been so relieved.
After all, his change of schedule is what saw the hospital hire a temporary night janitor, and that turned into more of a disaster than I could have ever anticipated.
But it’s fine now. Knight made sure justice was served there.
My phone rings from inside my car, and I give Vincent a small smile, knowing he can hear it too. “That’s probably my boyfriend checking to make sure I’m still alive.”
“Ahh, you better not keep him waiting,” Vincent says, offering me a smile. “I better take off anyway. Gotta make these kids lunches and get them off to school before they realize I forgot to pay the cable.”
A laugh bubbles through my chest as I dive back into my car, searching for my phone, and just as I expected, I find Knight’s name flashing across my screen.
Quickly accepting the call, I brace the phone between my ear and shoulder as I pull the door closed behind me, locking it before finding myself glancing toward the back seat again.
“Hey,” I say, twisting the key in the ignition again and cringing at the awful screech of the engine. “I’m on my way home now.”
“Did that noise come from your car or were you singing again?”
“My car,” I say with a heavy sigh, putting the call on speakerphone and dropping it into my lap as I work extra hard to ignore his jab about my singing.
But I can’t blame him. I’ve never met anybody more tone deaf than I am.
“It sounded fine when I left for work, but I don’t think it’s doing very well anymore. I might drop it in at the shop today.”
“Nah, doll. I’ll take care of it. You just focus on getting home,” he tells me. “I thought you were getting off at four.”
“I did, but—” I cut myself off, realizing I’ve already said too much.
I should have just said that I worked late and had a big autopsy that couldn’t be stopped halfway through.
He wouldn’t have questioned it, but now there’s an hour of unaccounted time that’s going to leave his mind swirling with questions.
“But what?”
“But nothing. Just got distracted chatting with the night janitor, Vincent,” I say, feeling somewhat better that I partially told the truth, though something tells me if I were to tell him what actually caused my delay, he wouldn’t be quite so chill.
“Alright, just get home. I want you resting,” he tells me. “Your first shift back after emergency surgery is bound to exhaust you, and I don’t want you falling apart on me.”
“As bossy as ever on this fine Tuesday morning, I see.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin a good thing now, would I?”
The dorkiest smile pulls across my lips, and I roll my eyes, loving this playful side of him. “Absolutely not,” I tell him, noticing sounds in the background. “It doesn’t sound as though you’re at home, in bed, waiting for me to rock your world.”
“You know there’s no place else I’d rather be,” he says, desire thick in his tone. “But it wouldn’t be Blackstone if I didn’t get called out in the middle of the night. I shouldn’t be long, though. This case seems pretty open and closed.”
The slightest relief pulses through me, realizing he won’t be home to see the jumpiness in me or the redness around my throat.
Hell, I’m lucky he hasn’t already clocked the fact that I’m not being one hundred percent truthful.
After all, there’s nothing Knight Slater enjoys more than calling me out on my bullshit.
“Okay, well, try not to get yourself shot in the ass,” I murmur as I pull out of the parking garage and onto the main road, finally able to head home. “Because if anybody gets the honor, it’s gonna be me.”
“Alright, doll. I’ll make sure my team knows that if anyone is going to shoot a load into my ass, it’ll be you.”
I laugh. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I freaking love it.
Though if it actually came down to shooting a load into his ass, he’d politely decline, not that I have anything that could potentially shoot any sort of load anyway.
The whole pegging thing doesn’t thrill Knight.
It’s not his particular cup of tea, but he’s more than happy to let me tease him about it.
Whatever jokes I throw his way, I just have to be prepared that they will come flying back at me tenfold.
“Gotta run,” he says a moment later, almost sounding disappointed to have to end the call. “Call if you need anything.”
“I will,” I tell him. “Be safe.”
“Always.”