His Redemption

Chapter Twelve

Killian’s pov

The warehouse office was silent except for the soft hum of the single desk lamp. Killian stood infront of the window, staring outside at the city. His suit jacket was discarded on the chair, sleeves were rolled up, veins stood out along his forearms.

It's been two days since he barely had a wink of sleep. His mind kept wandering to Evangeline. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

The door creaked open and Tristan entered. “Boss,” Tristan said carefully. “You asked for me?”

Killian didn't turn immediately, his gaze was fixated out the window.

"Yes, I did," he murmured.

"Okay," Tristan said, "what do you want me to do?"

Killian turned, facing Tristan, his eyes burning with something hard and dangerous.

He wanted to know more about Evangeline that's why he called Tristan.

He wanted to know every detail about her because he noticed something about her which reminded him about himself when he was younger.

He noticed the fear and panic in her eyes, the way her hands trembled and every time he tried to go near her she flinched.

It didn't sit right with him, he needed to know more about her and her background.

“I need information,” Killian said.

“On who?” Tristan asked.

"The girl I rescued in the alley."

Tristan smirked. "So you're interested in her now?"

Killian shot him a warning look. “Don’t start.”

"I'm not starting anything, I was just asking," he said.

"It's not any of your business," Killian said, his voice low but sharp.

"Something isn't right," he exhaled, taking a seat behind his desk.

Tristan's brows knitted. "With her?"

"No, you i***t," Killian snapped. "Which parent sends their mute daughter late at night to the grocery store?"

Tristan leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Only a irresponsible parent would do that."

"Exactly," Killian replied.

"What's her name?" Tristan asked.

"Evangeline, I texted her address to your phone. I also want you to take a drive there in the morning."

Tristan nodded. “Her last name?”

“I don’t know,” Killian said flatly.

That alone made Tristan straightened in surprise. Killian always knew everything.

"Where does she work?"

"She looks quite young so I presume she's still in school."

“ I want everything,” he said. “Her age, School, friends, family history.”

Tristan nodded. “Understood.”

Killian looked up, eyes black with something far from calm.

“I’ll have a full report by Thursday,” Tristan said turning around to leave.

“Tristan,” Killian called.

Tristan paused.

Killian’s expression softened barely.

He almost looked conflicted.

“…Be discreet,” he said. “If she finds out someone's onto her, it might scare her.”

Tristan gave a half-smile. “So you don’t want the girl to know the city’s most feared man is stalking her?”

Killian’s glare could have killed.

“Get. Out.”

Tristan left, shutting the door behind.

Killian stayed still for a long moment, staring at the space where Tristan had been… and whispered, almost to himself:

“Evangeline.”

___________________________________________________

The rain hammered against the windows, steady and relentless.

Killian sat behind his desk, documents were scattered around him, contracts and shipment schedules which he hadn't looked at them as yet.

His mind was still somewhere else, he couldn't stop thinking about her and the way she trembled and looked at him with nothing but fear in her eyes.

A knock sounded at the door and Killian exhaled, leaning against the chair.

"Come in."

Tristan stepped inside, drenched from the rain.

"I got what you wanted," he said as he pulled out a manila folder from his coat and placed it on Killian’s desk.

Killian looked at it but didn't touch it. His gaze then flickered to Tristan.

“Well?” he demanded.

Tristan exhaled. "You're not going to like what you see in there."

Killian opened the file and flipped through the pages, he paused when he saw a photo of hers.

It was a school photo of hers, she looked a little younger there, probably around thirteen.

Killian stared at the image too long and then went to read on her personal details.

Her name is Evangeline Ravenswood. Seventeen. Last year of high school. Lives with her parents and two older sisters.

"Her school reports say she’s mute. Diagnosed selectively, but—”

Tristan hesitated.

“There’s a note from a counselor who thinks there’s trauma involved.”

Killian’s jaw clenched.

“There’s more.” Tristan flipped a page. "Her teachers say she barely participates in any activity and hardly socializes with the other students.

Killian frowned." So she doesn't have any friends?"

Tristan looked up.

“ Actually there is," Tristan hesitated.

Killian’s jaw ticked. "And who is this friend of hers?"

"Soren Nightshade."

Killian’s brow furrowed. "She's friends with a boy?"

"Yeah," Tristan said, staring down at the file. "He's her childhood friend and resides across her house, comes from a wealthy and respectful background. His father's the towns sheriff but-" Tristan paused, his gaze flickered to Killian.

" But what?" Killian gritted out.

"He has a temper, gets into a lot of fights at school, almost got expelled because he beat another kid to a pulp all because the other kid tried to force himself on Evangeline."

Killian’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenched.

"Who is this other kid that tried to hurt her?"

"The mayors son, Matthew Blackwell."

"Looks like I need to pay him a visit but not right now,"

"Want me to handle the kid boss?"

"No," Killian said, placing a cigarette between his lips and matched a flame.

"I'll deal with him myself and when I'm done with him he'll think twice before laying eyes on her ever again," he said, inhaling two deep drags.

“What about her family?”

Tristan hesitated again.

Killian’s voice dropped dangerously.

“Tell me.”

Tristan slid forward a sheet of paper with four names circled.

“Her mother, father, and two older sisters. All living in that same house.”

Killian tapped the page once.

“Any history?”

Tristan swallowed.

“Police were called twice for domestic disturbances. Both times, the father answered the door and informed them it a complete misunderstanding.”

“Who made the call?” Killian demanded.

Tristan looked him straight in the eye. “Apparently a neighbor reported hearing yelling and things braking."

Killian’s fingers curled into fists.

Tristan added quietly, “There’s also a record from when she was twelve. She visited the hospital where her wrist was fractured." He paused.

“They said she fell.”

Killian shot to his feet, the chair scraping violently behind him.

“Fell?” His voice was a low snarl.

Tristan didn’t speak.

Killian paced, running a hand through his hair. Fury rolled off him in waves—cold, controlled, lethal.

“Her sisters?” Killian asked suddenly, ashing the cigarette.

Tristan flipped a page. "Both are in college, the older one, Jasmine she's currently engaged to Dorian thornfield."

“And the father?”

"Her father is hardly ever around. He works for a construction company and there's also another important piece of information."

"What is it?" Killian asked.

"The man was previously married but his wife died just after she gave birth and a few months later he met a woman named Celeste with two daughters."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That Evangeline isn't celeste's biological daughter."