The Fear That Divides Us (The Devil's Dust #3)(47)

I adjust my pistol in my waistband as I eye the hall under the hood of my sweater. I can’t go in there until the men on guard leave or fall asleep. I don’t need any unwanted attention with a confrontation.

I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do when I get in there. I know he is going against the club’s deal. He runs drugs on our side of town, and we run guns on his side. He is doing something against us; otherwise, why would he have tried to kill Lip.

Jessica ensured me Lip wasn’t followed and nobody saw her with him, but I don’t want to chance it. Augustus dies today, even if I have to sit here all night.

“Sir, have you been seen--?

I don’t look up at the person questioning me, not wanting them to see my face. I keep my head down and nod. She pats my arm and walks off, leaving me to stare down the hall. I see Jessica walk toward the room, her blonde hair is pulled up high, and she’s wearing blue scrubs. She talks to one of the guards outside of Augustus’s room and a bolt of adrenaline shoots up my spine causing me to go deathly stiff. My hands twitch in fear of what they could do to her if they figured out who she was affiliated with.

They nod and she walks into the room, writing something on a clipboard. After five minutes, one of the guards leaves the door, walking down the hall. I slowly stand and take a step forward. I may have to take my chance with one guy. There is no way they are going to leave the door completely unguarded.

I see Jessica walk out of the room and give the guy still standing outside the door a pat on the shoulder sympathetically, before she walks down the long corridor. I notice her tuck something away in her pants pocket, looking over her shoulder nervously. I stop in my steps and raise an eyebrow at her unease. White lights begin to flash along the hall as a computer at the nurses’ desk beeps like crazy. I take my eyes from the desk and look back down the hall at Jessica walking away quickly.

What the f*ck did she just do?

Jessica

I walk to my locker, grab my bag, stuff my things in it, and slam the door shut. My heart is thudding against my chest in mere panic as evidence that I just killed a man sits in my pocket. The blood in my body is racing so hard, trying to keep up with my beating heart. My vision wobbles with clarity. I. Just. Killed. A. Man. I inhale sharply at the thought. A sob racks from my mouth, and my hands tremble as I pull the drawstrings to my bag together. I lean my clammy forehead against the cool locker door, breathing in and out slowly, trying to steady my heart rate. I filled a syringe with adrenaline, and pumped it into Augustus’s arm, giving him a heart attack. I don’t know what I was thinking. All I could think about was Augustus killing Bobby. I pull away from the locker and shake my twitching hands, gaining some control. After a few moments of calming myself, I walk out of the dressing room. I have to get out of here. I can’t be here in the state of panic I’m in.

“Dr. Wren, you gotta do something,” one of the men I helped wheel in Augustus pleads as I walk past the room holding his dead boss. My head pounds with instant remorse as the man begs for me to save his mentor, but I know what I did will not only save Bobby and the club, but any other person that crosses paths with the likes of such a kingpin.

I give a tightlipped smile and rub his arm.

“I’m sorry. I did everything I could,” I respond, my voice soft and low to hide the tremble of fear crackling through. The guy pulls away, runs his hand over his chin, and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize again, my tone in the stern voice I use with everyone when they have lost someone close.

I continue to make my way toward the exit, my back wet from a nervous sweat, and my hands shaking uncontrollably.

“Dr. Wren,” Nurse Helga calls, stopping me feet from the exit. I still and close my eyes before turning with a bright smile on my face.

“I need you to delegate this patient’s care. I’m not sure if we should seek surgery, or send them to pediatrics and let them decide,” she rambles, flipping through a patient’s chart, her lips smacking together as she reads it over. Shit, the reason I was called in, I forgot with everything that happened with Augustus.

I walk to the desk and she hands me the chart. Looking it over, it’s nothing serious, and looks like the patient will be handled better on pediatrics floor.

“Send them to pediatrics,” I mumble, pushing the chart on the counter.

“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Nurse Helga calls out, sitting down at the desk and lifting the phone to call pediatrics. I lift my hand and wave, and walk toward the exit, not faltering in my steps. I try to slow my steps as I head toward my Jeep, but I can’t help but pick up the pace. My heart is slamming against my chest with every beat, my lungs burning, trying to keep up with my sporadic breathing. I have to get home. I have to get rid of the evidence.

I can tell nobody about this.

***

I walk up the steps to my apartment, my hands still shaky, and my eyes filling with tears at the thought of actually killing someone on purpose. I’m a doctor. I save people not kill them.

I grab the keys in my pocket, my hand bumping the evidence in my pants. I close my eyes, and shake my head, fishing my keys the rest of the way out. As I look up, I see someone leaning against my apartment door, their legs crossed out in front of them. I stop as I eye the person. They are wearing a dark-colored hoody, the hood pulled over their face as they look down. Is it one of Augustus’s men? I take a step back, and my shaking hands give out from fear. The keys in my hand fall, making a loud noise as they hit the ground.