Killing Augustus was a stupid, stupid move. More dangerous than anything I’ve ever done. What the hell was I thinking? Where did the courage and brass come from?
“Hey, look, extra straws to make caterpillars with,” Addie yells excitedly, holding a handful of straws.
My eyes widen, and my mouth parts at the sincere gesture; Bobby thought of my daughter.
***
Walking into work today, my nerves are on edge. I should have called in, but that would look suspicious, I never call in. There is no evidence that I had anything to do with Augustus’s death, no reason for anyone to suspect foul play, but if it had and they did an autopsy, a surge of adrenaline in Augustus’s bloodwork could come back to me. I take a deep breath and climb out of my Jeep. The sky fills with gray clouds and there’s lightning in the distance. I run toward the entry as rain begins to fall against my skin.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Wren,” Nurse Helga yells from the desk.
“Afternoon,” I reply, heading to the dressing room.
I walk in the room and find my locker door dented and yanked open, my stuff scattered all over the floor.
“What the hell?” I whisper, my palms sweating anxiously. Someone broke into my locker and rummaged through everything in it.
“Oh, man, it looks like you have been stolen from,” Nurse Helga gasps from behind me. I turn to face her, my cheeks turning red. I know I wasn’t stolen from. Someone was searching for something, possibly a syringe with my fingerprints on it.
“You want me to call security, babe?” Helga questions. She places her hand on my shoulder making me jump.
“What?” I ask. I was so consumed of what I was looking at I tuned her out. “No, it’s fine,” I reply, grabbing papers and scrubs off the floor.
“All right, well, I came in here to tell you we’re backed up and need you out here quickly,” she explains, walking back to the door.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be out in a minute,” I mutter, exasperated. I should call Bobby, tell him about the mud prints, and now this, but that will make him tell the club what I did, and I don’t want that. Whoever was here didn’t find what they were looking for obviously. So hopefully, nothing else will occur.
I clean up and splash some cold water on my face, my nerves taking over my entire body. I am a sweaty mess. I wipe the beaded sweat already forming on my forehead and walk out of the dressing room.
“Dr. Wren,” Shane greets, nearly running into me as I exit. His tone is formal and unfriendly.
“Shane,” I respond, tilting my head to the side, curious why he’s acting the way he is. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes, fine,” he remarks, writing on the clipboard in his hands. He gives me a fake smile before walking off. I sigh and let my head fall against the door. With the date we went on, and the way Bobby got into a pissing match with him, I don’t blame Shane for giving me the cold shoulder.
“Shane!” I yell, running down the hall. “Shane, I’m sorry,” I confront, catching up to him. He stops and tucks the clipboard under his arm.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I continue.
Shane exhales a tired breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Look, Jessica, you are a great doctor and an incredibly talented woman, but you are not available, no matter what you may think. The way that guy was staring at you last night, the way you were looking back at him…” he scoffs. “Do me a favor, the rest of the male population a favor, and tell the next poor son of a bitch who comes your way that you are seeing someone upfront—”
“It’s not a relationship. I mean…Bobby and I…” I struggle to find the words, not sure what we are exactly. Shane huffs, licking his lips as he squints his eyes, glaring at me.
“I’m just going off what I saw last night. Considering how defensive he got right off the bat, I’d say you are taken, whether you choose to see it that way or not,” Shane remarks, shaking his head. “I thought the guy was going to break my neck just by looking at me, Jessica,” Shane complains. I roll my lips onto one another, and look down the hall. I was afraid Bobby might kill Shane too, so what do I even say to that?
“Are you fucking him?” My head snaps in Shane’s direction, my mouth gaped open in shock.
“What?” I ask, my cheeks fuming with heat.
“Are you fucking him? Because you both came back from the bathroom pretty flushed in the face,” Shane states, his tone calm and collected.
“I…” I struggle to answer, nervous at how forward he’s being.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Shane responds, giving a half laugh before turning to walk off. I clench my jaw, my hands squeezing tightly. Anger bubbling to the surface at his crude tone.