King Von Imagines

A Love Written in Blood

Word Count ~502

The knock at the door came at 3:17 a.m.

Lilah's eyes snapped open. The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside, but the pounding at her door sent a chill down her spine.

Von had a key. He never knocked.

Sliding out of bed, she grabbed her phone. Still no texts, no missed calls. Nothing. He had left hours ago, telling her to "stay inside" before disappearing into the night. She knew better than to ask questions, but now, standing in the dark, she wished she had.

The knock came again—louder this time. More impatient.

She peeked through the peephole.

Two cops.

Lilah inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening on the doorknob. They weren't going to leave, not without answers. Squaring her shoulders, she unlocked the door but only cracked it open.

"Miss Carter?" The taller one, a detective, tilted his head.

"Who's asking?" she shot back, keeping her voice even.

"I'm Detective Ramirez, this is Officer Mills." He pulled out a notepad. "We need to ask you some questions about Dayvon Bennett."

Von.

Lilah didn't blink. "Don't know where he is."

The officer smirked like he'd expected that answer. "That's funny. Because we have reason to believe he was involved in a shooting tonight. Thought you might want to help us out."

She folded her arms. "Sounds like y'all got the wrong person, then. I don't know anything."

Ramirez exhaled, sliding a card across the doorframe. "If you hear from him, let him know we're looking for him. Might be in his best interest to cooperate."

Lilah let the card sit there. "Anything else?"

Neither cop answered. They just exchanged a glance before walking away. She didn't wait to see if they lingered—she slammed the door shut, snatching up the card and tossing it straight into the trash.

Her hands were shaking.

She paced the living room, chewing on her lip, trying to calm the storm brewing in her chest. The cops being at her door meant Von was in some deep shit. Deeper than usual. And the fact that he still hadn't called her? That scared her more than she wanted to admit.

Her phone buzzed.

She snatched it up so fast it nearly slipped from her fingers. A single message flashed across the screen.

Von: Come outside. Now.

Lilah's stomach flipped. She grabbed a hoodie and rushed to the door, stepping into the cool night air.

Von stood in the shadows near the staircase, hoodie up, jaw tight, eyes scanning the street.

She stormed up to him. "What the hell is going on? The cops—"

"I know," he cut her off, voice low and sharp. "That's why we gotta move."

Her breath hitched. "Move where?"

Von finally looked at her, his expression unreadable. But she saw the blood on his sleeve. The tension in his shoulders.

"Away from here." He took a step closer. "You trust me?"

Lilah didn't hesitate.

She nodded. Because she always did. Even when she knew she shouldn't.