A Man of Service A John Wick Fanfic

Chapter 14

T/W – adult situations, angst, tension, fluff, implied violence, drinking

Suddenly, Kate looked up at Winston, who considered her with affection as his hand ran down her hair again.

"What if he doesn't want me, Winston? What if everything has changed? What will I do then?"

He kissed her forehead again. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

"But I'm hardly a typical 'civilian' any more. I'll need to stay under the radar because of Anthony, because of the High Table. What if I'm on my own?" she proposed, fear in her face.

"As long as I'm alive, I'll protect you," Winston said softly. "If anything ever happens to John or you need my help, I'll be here for you. I give you my word."

Kate looked into those powerful blue eyes and finally understood. Tears flooded her eyes as she smiled at him and touched his cheek. "Thank you, Winston. I'll never forget, I promise."

John laid on the make-shift hospital bed and waited patiently for the doctor to bring his clothes. He thought about Kate and he thought about Winston. Why would Winston shoot him? Especially in a place where he was protected by a bullet-proof vest? If he had turned into a High Table Zombie and wanted to prove it to the adjudicator, he would have shot him execution style. One bullet in the head. Instead he hit him center mass, exactly where he was protected the most.

John realized he had to put that on the back burner if he could. His main focus was Kate and making sure she was safe. She was out there alone, probably dealing with Tortorelli on her own and she could get herself into some unbelievable trouble. She wasn't like John. She was a humanitarian, he was a misanthrope, and her soft side, her belief in the basic goodness in people, could get her killed very quickly in his world. But if he found her, could he escape and live in her world?

He thought about Helen then; she was a soft touch too, yet he managed to blend in and live happily without the Organization on his back. If Winston was instructed to kill him, it would be very difficult to get away. The only thing he could do was place Kate back in Chicago and return to New York to face his demons.

Anthony Tortorelli was another problem. If he was the bloodhound Kate said he was, he'd eventually find her. He was going to have to handle this himself...with one well placed bullet. Apparently a trip to Vegas was in his future.

John pretended to be asleep when the doctor returned with his clothes.

"You can't kid a kidder," the doctor said sharply. "You aren't asleep. Here are your clothes. I know you'll be out of here within minutes, but when your head is about to explode and your sutures rip and your side begins to give you sharp pains, forget my phone number. I'm heading to Florida."

John opened his eyes. "Thanks anyway, doc."

"Any word to the Bowery King for saving your ass?"

"I'll be in touch," John said sincerely with a nod of his head. "We've got some work to do. But first, I need to save someone."

"Whatever," the doctor shrugged.

John slowly made his way out of the bed and began dressing as quickly as his body would allow.

"Good luck, kid. You're going to need it."

"It's not the first time I've heard that," John replied. "And I'm still here."

"Barely," the doctor added.

John limped out of the doctor's office, hailed a taxi and began to make his way toward the Continental. He had to avoid Winston and yet still try to find Kate. He hoped she was there.

When John arrived at the hotel, he entered through the kitchen and immediately ducked unnoticed into the back service elevator to head to his room. He needed a shower and a clean change of clothes before he went looking for Kate. He put his keycard into the lock and opened the door.

Something didn't seem right. He closed and locked the door behind him, still wary and on high alert. Suddenly the dog came running towards him from the bedroom and John bent down on his knee to greet and pet him. The dog vigorously licked his hands and the beard on his face.

"Okay, boy. Good boy," John spoke evenly to the dog. "What are you doing here? Did Charon put you here for the night?"

The living area was cool and lit only by a lamp on the desk. He assumed Charon left it on for the dog. But something was still off. Then he heard rustling coming from the bathroom. If Charon rented his room to someone else, why was the dog here? Why wasn't the keycard changed? John frowned in confusion and walked into the master bedroom, still hearing movement in the master bathroom.

Carefully, John pulled the gun from his waistband and checked that it had a full clip and replaced it. He took another step into the bedroom and the bathroom door swung open, a huge white cloud of condensation blocking his view.

John saw her first, with one towel wrapped around her body and one holding up her hair. Kate. She was looking down at the dog and talking to him as she went to the mirror that hung from the closet door. Her seductive, curved neck and velvety shoulders glistened with water droplets that she removed when she unwrapped her hair from the towel. It fell down her back in silky, sleek amber waves and John watched her intently, not believing how feminine and arousing she was just standing there. He still watched her as she applied lotion to her beautiful arms---arms that had held him tightly not that long ago.

A feral groan came from his gut. Sparks inflamed his entire body as he felt his groin aching for her.

"Kate," he whispered, not moving.

She seemed to jump a little, then turned her face towards the door. Blinking furiously as if she wasn't seeing right, his handsome face, now carrying some bruises and stitches, and his tall, muscular body came into focus and she took a long, quick breath.

John took a step towards her and it seemed to liberate Kate. She ran to him and jumped into his arms; John leaned back and picked her up off the ground. The pain shot through his bruised body but he didn't care. He held her and held her until she placed her open mouth on his and his tongue slipped inside, hungry for the taste of her.

As he eased her to the ground, he cupped her face with his hands and kissed every inch of her...her forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, chin.

"John..." Kate said breathlessly moving her fingers up into his silky hair and pulling him down to kiss him passionately, completely.

John responded by sliding his hand down the side of her body to her behind and enticing her against his erection. He kissed her neck and finally spoke. "Katie....," he took a deep breath. "I've been living in these clothes out in the street and I need to clean up."

Kate nodded and kissed him lightly. "Okay," she answered, earnestly. "Okay...."

"Why don't you order some champagne and strawberries from room service? Order it under the room number and try to avoid giving them any names. Use Mr. and Mrs. Smith if you have to."

"Okay," she answered again, looking at him lovingly. "I can't believe you're here. You're really here..."

"Right where I want to be," he said, his eyes searching her face.

Kate threw a robe over her towel and walked into the living area to use the phone. She ordered a bottle of champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, and one avocado salad for them to share. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days, but he was here. Here with her. Kate wasn't sure how long she'd have him, so every minute he was in her sight was precious.

She heard the shower running as the waiter brought her order. Thinking quickly, she reached into John's suit coat and produced a gold coin, handing it to the attendant as he exited. It seemed to please him and she was hoping it would help insure his silence as to who was residing in room 408. If it was up to her, they'd be ordering room service for several long, slow, sensuous days.