The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)(55)

My phone rings in my pocket, breaking my laughter. I straighten my legs so I can pull it out. It shows I missed a text from Dani as it continues to ring, and the caller ID reads the hospital.

“Hello?”

“Is this Adrian Kingsmen?” the lady asks.

Bobby laughs and Bull yells, making it hard to hear.

“Maybe, who’s this?” I question her, turning my head to hear better.

“There has been an accident, and I was told by the doctor to contact you at this number,” the lady replies calmly.

“What accident?” I ask.

“It’s regarding patient, Danielle Lexington.”

I jump from my seat, panic rising in my chest.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?” I’m moving frantically, my heart speeding up to a level consistent with doing cocaine.

“It’s best if you just come in. Then we can give you more details, sir,” she replies sweetly.

Hesitant, I hang up. Danielle’s photo of her sleeping as my phone background catches my attention. My finger slides across the screen of my phone. I don’t pray—never did any good before—but I find myself praying right now. Can the Devil pray? Or does it get cast to the side with the rest of the sinners, gambling on a second chance?

“Everything okay, son?” Bull stares my way, snapping me from my silent prayer, my hope there’s a God and he’s listening to me.

“Dani’s in the hospital, some kind of accident,” I answer him, taking my eyes off my phone’s screen.

“What?” Bobby says, standing in panic.

“Let’s go,” Bull orders, throwing his cards on the table.

***

I race toward the hospital, Bobby and Bull trying to keep up, but my bike is faster.

I park in the unloading zone, not giving a f*ck about the law right now, and rush inside. I run toward the front desk and slap the counter to get the receptionist’s attention.

“A lady called me, said Danielle Lexington had been in an accident.”

The lady starts typing into her computer—slowly, I might add.

“Yes, she’s in the emergency room down the hall.”

Without any more details, I take off down the hall like a bat out of Hell.

Around the corner, I spot Mila in the waiting room, sitting in a chair crying.

“Mila, what the f*ck happened?” I demand, walking toward her.

“I came back to the studio because I forgot Dani’s check,” she says, sobbing.

“What happened?” I repeat, urging her to get past the petty information.

“There was this car full of men, and they chased Dani with their car, so I called the police. When I came back out, they were beating the hell out of her with a bat,” she cries, her words hard to understand.

“Holy shit,” Bobby whispers from behind me.

“We’ve been targeted,” Bull says gravely. This confirms Babs’ hit was not some drunk. This was personal.

I look into each room, trying to find Dani.

“Sir?” A nurse calls after me after I’ve looked into the fifth room. I ignore her.

“Sir?” she calls again, her voice louder than before. I still ignore her.

I open the last door at the end of the hall and see Dani. Tears immediately fill my eyes, and I have to take a step back before I can go forward. Her face is matted with blood and there is a deep gash in her eyebrow.

“Sir, you can’t be in here,” the nurse says, standing in my view of Dani.

“Christ,” I whisper in disbelief as tears tumble from my eyes. I will kill the person who did this to her.

“He’s fine, Sandy.” I turn and see Doc standing in the doorway, ushering the nurse to leave me alone.

“Is she okay?” I ask frantically.

“She’s in a lot of pain. I gave her a low dose of pain reliever until I can run some tests,” she tells me, tucking Dani in with a sheet.

“Her arm is broken, so we’ll have to cast it, and she also needs stitches in her eyebrow. She needs more tests done to make sure there are no internal injuries as well,” she informs, brushing the hair from her face.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. How’s she been?” Doc asks, adjusting Dani’s pillow.

I run my hands through my hair, frantically. “She’s been feeling sick and not eating much. But she’s been doing all right,” I respond.

Doc furrows her eyebrows at me. “She get a fever at all?”

“No, not that I know of,” I state, my eyes never leaving Dani’s face.

“Has she been taking the pills I gave her?” Doc asks.

“What pills?” I ask, confused. I didn’t know Dani was taking any pills.

“Right. Well, I’m going to do another blood test before continuing.” Doc grabs the clipboard hanging on the wall and exits the room, leaving me with more questions than I arrived with.

Two guys in white lab coats come in carrying a container full of needles and tubes. They put a rubber band around Dani’s arm and push a needle into the crook of her elbow, then pull a cap off and push a tube onto it, making blood squirt into the tube.

“What are these tests for?” I question, pointing toward the needles.

They ignore me, wrap her arm up with colored tape, and leave the room. I’m getting no answers, and it’s starting to piss me off.