The tension in his chest eases when Rafael offers a small smile. “Thank you, Baron,” the nurse mutters. “For listening, I mean.”
There’s no fear in his words, only what sounds like genuine appreciation. It’s not something he sees every day, certainly not from a corpo nurse who should fear him.
Kane turns away before the moment can stretch into something else. “Hopefully, I won’t regret it.”
His eyes drop to his wristlink. Viper’s message about Wren sending the girl through the holowall flashes, but Kane can’t focus. Rafael’s words echo in his mind.
Thanking him of all things. It’s almost ridiculous. Then again, nothing Rafael does follows the expected script.
Though the nurse’s gratitude changes little. “You stay until the fire’s completely out,” Kane orders, tone sharp again. “Pixie will escort you back to the med bay.”
Rafael nods without protest.
This is when he should leave—end the conversation. Instead, Kane clears his throat. “A replacement should arrive by tomorrow evening.”
“Tomorrow?” Rafael blurts, the color draining from his face.
There’s no other choice. This is how things have to be. He owes Rafael no favors. Yet guilt twists in Kane’s gut as he continues, “You’ll return to the studio in the morning until then. No one will disturb your room.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, climbing out of the HOV.
Outside, the scene only reinforces his decision. Coda’s drones circle the building, snuffing out the last flames. Viper and his team march along the block while Wren’s squad speeds toward fleeing civilians. The neighborhood needs medical support, and Kane has no one else.
“Boss man, you there?” Echo’s voice crackles through his commlink.
Kane taps his visor. “Here.”
“Bad news.” Echo sighs. “Dr. Hayashi can’t make it tomorrow night. Needs more time than she thought.”
There goes his entire plan. Not that Kane can fault the doctor. She’s already risking enough by leaving her underground clinic, but he just looked Rafael in the eye and told him one more day.
His crew makes sacrifices constantly. But this feels a lot different from asking an enforcer to stretch a shift.
He forces the thought down. Leadership demands a hardened heart, even with outsiders.
“Understood,” Kane signs off before Echo can even respond.
9
Chapter 9 - Rafael
Green light washes over Rafael as he stops outside Dragoon’s Rest—the crew’s base, according to one of the men he treated today. To him, it’s the place Wren dragged him two nights ago to save a dying woman at gunpoint.
Above the building, an animated dragon flickers in neon over the silent street. Rafael would usually be mid-shift around this time. But here in the slums, the block sits practically deserted, save for a few lit windows above the bar and the distant glow of Midtown.
His quarters are somewhere in those apartments, the med bay tucked below, linked by the same dim corridors he’s walked too many times to count.
Tonight, he’s been patching up scrapes and burns until a neighborhood girl’s cyberspine malfunctioned, sending him racing out with Pixie in the medtruck.
Now he’s too drained to care about anything beyond collapsing into bed.
“Go on in! I’ll be right there!” Pixie’s shout snaps him back to the present.
Rafael peers over at her unloading equipment from the HOV. She’s been his escort since yesterday afternoon—mostly friendly but quiet, especially around other crew members. He offers a nod before turning toward the front door. Hopefully, this is the last time he enters this place.
The bar is empty inside. Synthohol dispensers line leather booths and the bar top, while neon art pulses on the walls. Holo billiard tables flicker on and off, casting the same green glow he’s seen throughout the neighborhood. The shattered one from his first night is gone, either repaired or hauled away.
A high-pitched voice breaks the silence as he crosses the threshold. “Hey, kid!”