Page 17 of Carver’s Crusade

One good thing about going to bed early is that it makes it easier to get up at four in the morning when your alarm goes off. I know sneaking out of my parents’ home this early is rude, but it’s all about survival. My parents would pressure me into staying another night, but I have work to do.

Slipping out of the house, I rush to the bus stop just as the first bus of the morning pulls up. I pay the fare and take a seat. The bus is empty, so I have my choice. I select the one behind the driver. Neither of us makes small talk as the bus lumbers through the city. I exit the bus near the grocery store where I left my car. Taking out my keys, I jog over and let myself in. With a breath of relief, the engine turns over so I can drive out of the parking lot. That’s one task down. Now, I just need to get back to my apartment and get ready for work. Maybe if I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed the figure watching from the shadows. I didn’t. If I had, I might have been able to avoid some of the unpleasantness heading my way.

I unlock the office door and step inside, the familiar quiet settling around me like a second skin. It’s early—earlier than most people want to be up—but I like this time. No voices, no expectations. Just me and the steady rhythm of getting things ready. I need the quiet to regroup.

I flip on the lights and set my bag behind the front desk before heading straight for the small kitchenette. My primary goal is coffee, so I top off the water reservoir on the Keurig before restocking the pods. After placing a sleeve of paper cups nearby, I restock the mini fridge with bottled water and cold tea. Then, with a final glance to ensure everything is ready, I shift my attention to preparing everything for Athena’s consultations.

Checking the schedule, I gather the files for each of her scheduled clients. I only scan the names, because it’s not my place to know more. Still, I handle each file as if it is fragile—because they represent women who are struggling to regain their lives. By the time I place them in a neat stack on Athena’s desk, everything is in order.

Returning to my desk, I take out the intake packet for the new client scheduled for after lunch. I insert the forms into a clipboard and attach a working pen before setting it aside.

I glance around the waiting area one more time. Chairs straight. Table clean. Coffee ready.

Everything looks calm and ready for the day.

Even if I’m not.

Athena arrives thirty minutes later, and I can see by her expression that she wasn’t expecting to see me.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home resting?” she demands.

I adjust the silk scarf I tied around my neck to hide the bruising. I don’t want to cause Athena’s clients more trauma or give them flashbacks.

“I’m fine. I went to bed early last night and got plenty of sleep. I wanted to come in. You have a new client coming in, and I want to be here to greet her.”

“Yes, Jinx Napier. But I could have handled getting her checked in. You didn’t have to come in.”

I shrug. “I wanted to be here. Don’t worry about me. I’m okay. I promise.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“No, but Shield stopped by yesterday. He thinks I might have interrupted a car thief. He probably choked me out so he could get away. Wrong place at the wrong time.” I try to sound like I’m shaken but not scared. Truth is, I’m terrified. I know Tony Martin saw me. I don’t know if he recognized me. We’d never met before, but he might have seen me walking into or out of the dojo. The fact that he had an alibi so quickly tells me that he has experience covering his tracks. I know he’s assaulted at least one woman before me. Now, I’m thinking he’s done it more times than anyone knows. He’s a dangerous opponent, and I’ve made myself his next target.

“Hopefully Shield will track him down and arrest him,” Athena muses.

“Hopefully,” I agree, even though I know he won’t. There is no car thief. There is only a sociopath who abuses women. “Do you want me to bring you your coffee?”

“I’ll get it,” Athena says, waving me off. “I came in early to prepare, because I didn’t expect you to come in today. I have some time before my first client.”

The morning progresses quickly. Patients come and go as I go about my work.

The clock on my desk clicks over to one, and right on cue, the door opens to reveal our new client.

I look up with a practiced smile already in place. “Hi, welcome.”

She hesitates just inside the doorway, like she’s not sure she’s in the right place. Then her gaze lands on me, and she nods. “Um… I’m Jinx. Jinx Napier.”

“Hi, Jinx.” I keep my tone soft, easy. “We’ve been expecting you. I’m Raven.” I gesture toward one of the chairs. Rising, I grab the clipboard and hand it to her. “Would you like a cup of coffee or tea? We also have water and iced tea, if you want something cold.”

“Water would be good,” she says, taking the clipboard and pen from me.

I retrieve the bottle and hand it to her. She takes it, breaks the seal, and sips as she studies the forms.

I return to my desk and glance at her. She’s young—early twenties, maybe, pretty in a way that doesn’t feel like she tries too hard. Her black hair falls past her shoulders, but streaks of color—blue, purple, and pink—catch the light when she moves. Her brown eyes fixate on the form.

While she fills everything out, I keep things quiet. No pressure. Just the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional scratch of her pen. After a few minutes, she stands and brings me the clipboard.

I glance over it, checking for anything missing. “Looks good.” I offer her a small smile. “You mentioned you work mornings?”