Page 43 of Guarded Knight

I’ll miss Dr. Hilder. There was so much trust there. Years of it.

God. Every step I take now is a leap of faith.

I’m half-dressed and already on my second round of dry shampoo when Freya pokes her head into my room.

“Almost ready?” she asks, brows drawn.

Freya always comes to the doctor with me. I confessed to her one night when I was a glass of Pinot deep that I hate going alone. She never even let me ask her to come. Just assumed.

And I love her for it. The best friends in the world have a sixth sense for things and know how hard it is for most of us to ask for help.

“‘Ready’ is a funny word,” I murmur.

She throws me an empathetic smile then disappears, reappearing a minute later with her coat and keys in hand. “All right. Let’s do this.”

I reach for my hoodie just as my phone buzzes on the nightstand.

GABRIEL

YOU READY TO GO? I’M OUT FRONT

No man anticipates needs like this one.

I stare at the screen a second too long.

Freya catches it. “Gabriel?”

I nod. “He’s offered to take me.”

She leans against the doorframe, watching me with something soft and knowing in her expression. “Do you want to go with him instead?”

I shouldn’t, but I do, because no matter how hard I try, being around him, especially when it comes to my disease, something he’s known as long as my family, there’s a comfort in knowing he won’t be rattled, won’t flinch at anything the doctor says. Not that Freya would but, he’s…Gabriel.

He knows it all and has seen me at my worst. Freya has seen me at my best. And every time I go to the doctor, I always fear which version of the future I’m going to get.

“I don’t know what I want,” I admit. “But I don’t think I have a choice.” I pull the hoodie over my head. “I’m either in his truck, or he’s tailing us. And you shouldn’t have to take paid time off for this.”

“After yesterday…” She doesn’t finish and scans my features deliberately. “You sure?”

Damn my heart.

“I’m sure.”

Outside,Gabriel stands next to his truck, with his iconic sunglasses on.

He opens the door for me without a word, and I climb in.

He slides into the driver’s seat beside me.

I buckle in. “Morning.”

He shifts into gear. “Morning.”

And then that’s it. No mention of the bar. No mention of last night.

A small part of me wants to skirt over it and move on. I’m not staying here, and if his past is any indication, he isn’t either, so we’ll be going our separate ways. I’m not sure hearing I deserve the world again from that mouth I once wanted as mine is going to make any of this easier.

But if we don’t talk, we both might erupt because the lava beneath the surface has been heating up.