Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
He set the bags on the rolling tray table and began unpacking containers. The smell intensified as he revealed grilled chicken, lemon, herbs, warm pita. My stomach growled embarrassingly loudly, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since a stale vending machine granola bar at dawn.
Knight glanced up, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” I admitted.
Brynn reluctantly removed her headphones, letting them rest around her neck. “What did you get?” she asked, trying to sound indifferent but leaning forward to peer into the containers.
“Chicken souvlaki for your mom -- easy on the garlic,” he said, sliding a container toward me. “And for you, grilled chicken and rice. Easy on the sauce.”
“Better than hospital slop, I guess,” she muttered, but her hands reached eagerly for the container.
“So,” Knight said after we’d eaten for a few minutes. “Ada and I have been talking.” He set down his fork, his expression serious but open. “We have a suggestion about your living situation.” I tensed, waiting for what would come next. Brynn’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “The Kiss of Death compound has a lot of apartments above the warehouses,” Knight continued. “Everyone has their own space. No one’s claimed the apartment across from mine. There are a couple of other brothers and their old ladies on the same floor, but it’s private and you’d have women nearby in case you weren’t comfortable with me just yet. It’s furnished, secure, and could be yours for as long or as short a time as you need.”
My fork froze halfway to my mouth. “The compound?” I echoed, images of outlaw biker gang documentaries flashing through my mind.
Knight’s mouth quirked slightly. “It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s more like a small community. Gated entrance with a fence around the whole compound. We have a bunch of warehouses we’ve converted into workshops and apartments. The apartment would give you privacy, but you’d have people around to help if you needed anything.”
“People like who?” Brynn asked, the first direct question she’d posed to Knight without hostility.
“Ada, for one. She lives there with Jag,” he answered. “Knuckles and Hannah. They’ll be over later to meet you. They didn’t want to overwhelm either of you but wanted to make sure they were nearby in case one of us needed them. Every single one of them is people I trust with my life. There’s a doctor who lives on site. Not a kidney specialist, but good in a pinch. And it would give you a stable place to stay before and after any surgery. Not to mention it’s in Nashville. The university hospital at Vanderbilt is in Nashville. If you need immediate care, they can make sure you get up here safely.”
The offer hung in the air, tempting and terrifying all at once. A place to live. Security. Help nearby. I didn’t know these people, but I trusted Knight with my life. Even if he’d changed somewhat over the years, without question, Knight would protect us with everything he had in him.
“Ada pointed out not every transplant patient lives near their hospital,” he continued. “Many come from hours away. And once we’re approved for the surgery and have a date, we could get a hotel here for as long as we need. Or maybe rent a house so we have help close by.”
I glanced at Brynn, surprised to find her watching Knight with careful consideration, the defiance in her posture softening slightly. The practical benefits of his offer were hard to dismiss, especially now that we had nowhere else to go.
“What do you think?” I asked her directly, respecting her enough to include her in the decision.
She shrugged, but it lacked the aggressive dismissal of before. “I guess it’s better than being homeless.” A concession, wrapped in typical Brynn bluntness.
I looked at Knight, at the hope barely concealed behind his careful expression. This man, still largely a stranger despite our shared past, was offering us a lifeline. Pride warred with necessity in my chest.
“We can work out the details later,” I finally said, accepting the offer without quite saying the words. “Right now, we need somewhere to go when Brynn’s discharged, and I need to figure out how to get our things from storage.”
Knight nodded, relief visible in the slight relaxation of his shoulders. “I’ll take care of the storage. I’ll get Tiny and Cash to get your stuff and take it back to the compound. They can stop by on their way back and let you get anything you need immediately.”
Brynn watched us over her food, her expression unreadable. But she didn’t put her headphones back on, and when Knight offered her a small container of baklava she actually muttered a quiet “thanks.”
It wasn’t acceptance. Not yet. But it was a start.
Chapter Seven
Knight
I eased the Bronco through the gates of the Kiss of Death compound, acutely aware of Lavender’s white-knuckled grip on the door handle beside me. In the rearview, Brynn’s face was a mask of practiced boredom but her gaze darted everywhere, taking in her surroundings with that sharp intelligence she couldn’t hide no matter how hard she tried.