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

My face falls flat, my shoulder blazing with tension in the ungodly angle it’s in, and my eyes widen. She looks over at me and giggles, completely amused with herself and climbs on top of me.


“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” I laugh, as she unties me.

“Yes, I am,” she quips.

My arm falls to the bed weightless, my entire limb burning as the blood regains flow. I feel Jessica’s finger slide across my scar indenting my side as she lays across me. I was shot taking a bullet for Shadow a couple of years ago. I died a few times on the way to the hospital, but it was worth saving my best friend. I couldn’t let a sleazy kingpin named Augustus take him out.

Jessica’s phone rings from the nightstand, making her whip her hand from my stomach to answer it.

“Dr. Wren,” she answers professionally. I take a deep breath and roll out of the bed in search of my clothes. I grab my pants and boots, putting them on while Jessica talks on her phone. I feel like I should leave. I’m not sure why. Usually when Jessica and I have sex, it’s in the middle of the night and she is the one leaving. However, to keep things less complicated, easy for her, I should bolt.

Jessica continues to talk on the phone quietly, her eyes peeking over her shoulder as I head for the bedroom door.

“I’m going to go,” I whisper. She nods in understanding and turns, dismissing me.

I walk out of her apartment, the scent of her and tones of coffee lingering on my skin. My phone buzzes in my pocket, making me dig inside my jeans for it.

Not paying attention, I bump into someone, causing me to drop my phone.

“Watch it!” a man’s voice snaps. I grab my phone off the floor and look at the person I bumped into. His hair is dark and cut into a mullet. His white shirt’s splattered with mustard stains and his jeans are cut-off at the knees.

“You watch it,” I bark, standing up straight. He is almost two feet smaller than me, making him cower under me.

“Oh, sorry, man,” he replies as I glare down at him, my lip curled in disgust. “I’m Dudley, the landlord,” he continues, his tone friendly as he wipes crumbs from his beer gut.

I cross my arms and widen my stance.

“The landlord, huh?” I question. “So you’re the reason this place has gone to shit,” I state.

His mouth falls open with a gasp. “It’s not as easy as it looks, man. This place is a dump,” he defends, snapping his gaping mouth shut, and pursing his lips.

I jab my finger into his chest hard, my face scowling at his response. “I know for a fact this place is not cheap on rent, and was in a lot better shape before. You better get it back that way before I come back here again. You can start with that security gate outside,” I growl, jabbing him in the chest once more. His eyes widen in fear from my aggressive tone as he nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will,” he answers, running his hand through his greasy hair. I scoff and walk around him. He clearly has been taking the tenants of this building’s money and pocketing it, letting everything fall to shit.

***

Arriving back at the club, I see Cherry leaning against her car. She has on those cute-as-hell short shorts that fray at the bottom, and a white top so tight, it’s causing her nipples to slightly pebble against the material. She’s cute as hell, but can be a pain in the ass.

I head into the garage, curious if my Chevy truck has arrived yet, when Cherry yells my name.

“Shit,” I mumble, trying to act as if I didn’t hear her.

“Bobby!” Cherry yells again.

“Yeah?” I reply, walking into the garage. My eyes light up; my truck arrived! Fuck yeah! I run my hand over the blue hood, eyeing the detail of the paint. It’s vintage and overall completely badass. I head to the driver’s side, excited to hear her purr when I start the engine.

“Do you know how to weld?” Cherry questions, leaning against the truck as I climb behind the wheel. Emanating a comforting smell, the leather of the seats wafts around me as I gawk at the craftsmanship. I take my gaze from the gray dashboard and raise my eyebrow at Cherry. “Why?” I ask, my hand on the keys, waiting for her to spit out what she wants so I can start the truck.

“I need some help with something,” she responds vaguely, looking the other way. I groan and drop my hand from the ignition. She is not going to make this easy.

“What do you want?” I respond exasperated.

“There is this playground that has a metal jungle gym, and a piece of it has come apart cutting the kids. I was wondering if you could fix it,” she finally says, tucking her strawberry hair behind her ear, her grayish eyes brightening with hope.

“Why do you care?” I interrogate further. Why the hell would she would be at a playground?

“I just do. Can you do it or not?” she snaps, her eyebrows furrowing inward.

“Where is this jungle gym?” I ask, leaning my head back against the seat.

She licks her bottom lip, taking a deep breath. “The south side, over at Gold Trailer Park,” her grayish eyes leave mine as she turns, looking off into the distance.