Page 24 of Knight Watch

Chapter Eleven

Pulling into a truck stop,Kingsley glanced at Sydney and noted the frown lines and brutal hold on her control that seemed to be a part of her had slipped a little. He allowed the relief to ease the anger that had been building ever since she had started to scream and whimper as she fought invisible attackers with a ferocity that made him inexplicably proud of her.

The other feeling it evoked in him was a thirst for blood he couldn’t remember having in such a long time, it was difficult to pinpoint. Her nightmare pretty much confirmed every dark thought he’d had about what had happened to her, and he wanted to tear apart every person who had ever hurt her. Make them hurt as she had been. Make them pay—and he would. He vowed to himself that every one of them would pay. Her strength and endurance amazed him.

Kingsley didn’t care that it made no sense and they’d only just met. They’d barely exchanged a kiss, but it had affected him more than most of his sexual encounters ever had, and he’d known a lot of women. He wasn’t the dog some of his friends in the forces were, but he had a healthy sex drive.

Sydney was different though, and he knew he’d have to be careful with her. Everything about her called to him, had since he’d first laid eyes on her and it confused him. He’d never seen himself falling in love and settling down, and he wasn’t enough of an idiot to think he was in love now, but for the first time, he saw the possibility of a life with someone. The only problem was people wanted her dead, and that wasn’t going to happen on his watch. Sydney turned to him as he turned off the engine and a small smile flittered at the corner of her lips before she blushed and looked down, breaking eye contact.

“We need to eat and get fuel.”

“Great, I’m starved.” Her tummy let out a loud grumble in agreement.

“Let me get out first, and I’ll make sure the coast is clear.” He checked their surroundings and then exited the car. Walking around to her side, he opened the door, his head on a constant swivel as he watched for any threat.

Holding his hand out, he helped her out and with his arm behind her back escorted her inside the diner, holding the door for her to proceed him. He spotted a booth near the back with clear sight to the front door, kitchen door, fire exit, nobody at his back, and he made a beeline for it not waiting to be seated by the harried waitress who glared at him.

Motioning for Sydney to sit closer to the wall, he watched her hesitate for a fraction of a second before moving. He clenched his fists, knowing her aversion to being trapped came from her recent kidnapping.

Kingsley sat, leaving space between them but still wanting to be close enough to cover her if something happened.

“I think you pissed the waitress off.” She cast a look at the woman in her sixties who was bearing down on them with a glare.

Kingsley just shrugged. He would piss off the Queen herself if it meant keeping Sydney safe.

“What can I get you?” asked the waitress, her pen poised on her pad.

“I’ll have coffee and a burger and fries, please.”

Kingsley smiled at Sydney’s order, taking her appetite as a good sign. “I’ll have Earl Grey tea with milk if you have it and the same.” He laid his menu back down on the table.

“Does this look like the Ritz to you? We have black coffee, regular coffee, or black tea. Which do you want?” she asked impatiently.

“Black coffee is fine. Thank you.” He rolled his lips, trying not to smile at her gnarly attitude.

“Fine, be right out.” She walked away with the tiredness of a career waitress about her.

Sydney burst out laughing, and Kingsley looked at her sharply, the sound a beautiful surprise.

“Wow, she’s pissed. You might want to consider checking your food for cockroaches.” She wiped her eyes with her hand to clear the tears of hilarity.

“Laugh it up, Sydney. I’ll have her eating out of my hand in no time.” Kingsley smiled, enjoying this rare show of joy from her.

“Oh yeah? You some kind of waitress whisperer?”

He tilted his head slightly. “A what?”

“A waitress whisperer. You know, like a dog whisperer or horse whisperer.”

“Yeah, I know what one is. No, I wouldn’t say I am, but I bet you anything you like that I can make her smile before we leave here.” He could feel the tension ooze from Sydney and dissipate with every exchange they had.

“You’ve got a deal, but what are we betting?”

He watched as an exhausted mother, with limp, mousy blond hair, carried a little boy who was no more than two into the diner before replying to Sydney’s question. “What do you want?”

“How about if I win, I get to tune your car?”

“Fine. If I win, I get another kiss.”