Page 80 of Inked in Devotion

Again.

I waited for the voice in my head to make commentary, but it didn’t.

In front of me stood The Astorian. A wellness center owned by the pharmaceutical subsidiary of King Industries. I’d never been in there to check on my half brother. Theo didn’t encourage it either and was tight-lipped about Jeremiah’s recovery.

But I needed to know if he killed my mother.

Theo promised he would look into Jeremiah’s files, but that was wishful thinking because he’d been under siege ever since.

But I had time. I had to know.

I lowered the visor mirror and checked my face. Even with no identification on me, it was worth a try. I shifted the gear of the car and approached the guardhouse. On paper, The Astorian was a rehabilitation/therapy center for the ultra-rich. Information was sparse online. I only found out about it when I was staying with the De Luccis and Trevor dug up information for me on Esther King.

A security guard stepped out of the guardhouse. “Ma’am, this is a private facility.”

I smiled tentatively at him. “I’m aware. I’m Chloe King and I’m here to seek sanctuary.”

Okay, sanctuary sounded dramatic, but I was desperate.

His eyes widened before he peered closer. Recognition replaced the no-nonsense expression he wore earlier, and he had trouble articulating words for a few seconds. “May I see your identification, ma’am?”

“I don’t have any on me. I escaped a situation, and this was the closest place I could feel safe. I don’t have a phone to call my brother. But you can have someone call Theodore King.”

I felt it was time to deal with this part of my past. The guard was an older gentleman. His beard was mostly white, but his hair was dark and streaked with gray. He was around fifty or sixty. But hopefully, he’d feel parental and protective.

“Can I take a photo to send to our facility manager?”

“Yes.”

I glanced over my shoulder while anxiety fizzed through my veins, wondering if Kolya would track me. I didn’t want to face him. The condemnation in his eyes slayed, and I wanted to die. If it wasn’t for Dora, I would have taken the kitchen knife and slit my wrists.

Wait.

Why would I do that?

Why would I kill myself a few feet away from my son? I don’t want that for him. What am I thinking?

I stared at the institution in front of me. I would ask Theo to admit me there. I needed help. But needing help meant I wanted to get better.

At this moment, I did.

But earlier? I had felt so hopeless. I didn’t understand it.

“Miss King?” the guard addressed me.

Dazedly, I glanced up at him. I was so exhausted.

“You may go through. Nurse Nolan will meet you in front.”

I drove Dora’s car up the circular driveway. I’d never made it this far in my attempts to see Jeremiah. Theo said my name was already on the list of visitors in Jeremiah’s file, but I couldn’t see him on my own.

“Miss King.”

Nurse Nolan reminded me of Marena. Maybe it was her polished look with hair curled around an elaborate updo. She wasn’t wearing scrubs, but a mint-green uniform reminiscent of the 1950s nurse uniforms in design.

“You can leave the car here, and someone will take care of it,” she said.

A male nurse dressed in scrubs rushed down the steps and handed Nurse Nolan the phone. “Finally got ahold of Mr. King. He wants to talk to Miss King.”