well seasoned,” he laughs. His belly shakes like a half-deflated waterbed. “This one’s a bit different, though. You gotta bring someone to the table if you get what I mean. If not for touching then at least for looking at.” He gives me an exaggerated wink, the jowls of his cheeks swinging like a basset hound’s. “I doubt you’ll have any problem finding someone to come with you.”
Tuesday. If Alexis is here, then she will definitely be attending a party like that. Today’s only Friday, though. I hadn’t really planned on staying that long. I’ll just have to make sure I run into the girl before then. I nod, taking a healthy swig from the whiskey. “Yeah. I doubt I’ll have a problem.”
******
The sleek black car follows me from the highway all the way to St Peter’s. Lacey sees it first—I’m literally having to take her to work with me, which is all kinds of fucked—and points it out as I drive. It doesn’t pull into the parking lot behind me, but draws up on the curb outside the coffee shop across from the hospital, the engine cutting as we get out of the Volvo and make our way to the entrance. The generic-looking dark vehicle has blacked-out windows so it’s impossible to see inside, although Lacey seems to have a good idea who it is.
“That’s one of Charlie’s boys for sure,” she announces. She’s way more nonchalant over this tail than I am; I’m on the verge of bolting inside the hospital and hiding in a cleaning closet or something. “Bet they’re there when we leave,” she adds.
“If they’re there when we leave, I’m calling the cops.”
She snorts. “Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean?”
Pulling one shoulder up to the side, she looks at me like I’m stupid, eyes rolling. “The cops are all in someone’s pocket. Mostly Charlie’s. They probably wouldn’t even show up, let alone do anything about it.”
Well there’s a worrying piece of news. It feels like I’ve been sucked into a 1950s gangster movie, except this is real. And not being able to call the cops? Just great. Seriously. Just great.
I deposit Lacey in an on-call room. I’m already nearly late for my own rounds, so I don’t have time to baby her when I leave.
“Don’t step one foot out of this room, okay,” I command. “There are plenty of people who’ll recognize you and that’s the last thing I need. Zeth’ll murder me if you get sectioned while I’m here at work.” Fucking Zeth. The guy has done nothing but cause me problems, really. If he hadn’t killed Eli, then I might have gotten the information I was after, and Alexis would already be back home, safe and sound, heading to church with Mom and Dad every weekend. Playing the piano to accompany the choir and the singing parishioners. I try to hold on to my anger a moment, but it fizzles out like an extinguished firework when my mind veers from its wrath and decides to remember other things instead. Like his painfully big cock teasing me as he readied to push inside me. His deep brown eyes watching my expression closely as he sank himself as deep as he could, groaning under his breath.
Shit.
Lacey sits on the bed looking moderately anxious as I hurry off to get into my scrubs before nearly late transforms into actually late. Everyone thinks the interns are under the most pressure to perform, but that’s not entirely true. It’s just as easy to get booted from the residency program if you’re behind in your work. And being tardy is kind of frowned upon, too. As is bringing a twenty-six-year-old woman who needs constant babysitting to work with you.
I make it through rounds, on time thankfully, and I see the patients who have been admitted on my day off. Punctured lung, congenital heart defect, septicemia. Everything is relatively serious today. Serious enough that I have to spend a considerable amount of time with each patient, assessing their progress and filling out the necessary paperwork for their records and meds. It’s midday by the time I finally get the chance to lock myself in the bathroom and text Zeth.
Your friends followed me to work this morning.
A minute passes before the phone chimes in my hand.
Zeth: What happened?
Rcv’d 12:48 pm
Me: Nothing. They just followed us. Parked out front. What do you mean, what happened? Is something going to happen?
Zeth: Doubtful.
Rcv’d 12:51
And then…
Zeth: You okay?
Rcv’d 12:51
I should tell him the truth: