Grumbling, Luke nodded, “Yeah, I hear you.”
***
When it was just Luke and Robert outside of the club, the two of them approaching their bikes, Luke could barely restrain the anger in his bones. The president might be pissed if Luke told him just what his son was doing, but it also might blow over – better to hold onto those cards for later, he concluded, slipping onto his bike.
Robert flashed that greasy smirk, his lips looking like cracked worms slithering against one another. “Put your hands one me like that again, I dare you,” he challenged, placing his riding goggles over his eyes.
Luke strapped on his helmet, not looking the man in the eye a flash of dark adrenaline surging through his person. Earl was going to need a good chunk more of those Oxycottons by the end of the day; he tossed the black pack over to the vice. “Not a single one of those goes missing, got it?” Fury dripped from tongue freely, “I’m already going to have to get creative because of your stupid ass.” Now he was going to have to run back to St. Augustine and see what could be done.
“Sorry chief,” Robert placed the bag in the back of his ride, “here I thought you were still cool, guess you showed your real colors today huh?”
Next time I’ll beat the teeth out of you. Selfish prick.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jasmine
Things didn’t feel okay. Jasmine’s mind lingered on Luke – occasionally drifting to when he was in her shower.
Stark naked. His muscles flowing with his every motion, standing half a man and half a god. Heat curled against her abdomen and tightness formed wonderfully between her legs. You should have gotten his real number instead of that burner, she chided. Jasmine had the pleasure of training one of her residents today, Jessica Park; it was always a challenge to try and teach the newbies the ropes, but someone had to do it. The tune of Carry On My Wayward son resounded throughout her mind, as she’d listened to it on the way to the hospital – she had burned it onto one of the CD’s she made for Alejandra. I really hope she likes it.
She was part of the way through her shift and walking the lobby of the main floor when she saw a familiar face make its way through those large glass doors. Jasmine’s insides smiled and she could feel the corner of her mouth twisting into a playful smirk.
Augustus Lark sauntered on past the small contingents of patients and their friends, his silvery wine-colored curls had a peculiar glimmer to them when the light hit them just right. She saw something though, something out of the norm in those foxlike green eyes. Something was wrong.
She called out to him, placing a hand on her hip, “What’s crackin’ big A,” she knew that he hated when she called him that. There were fine beads of sweat on the man’s forehead.
He shifted his head to look over at her; the lines of his face did not form to the usual wise cracking that Jasmine had become accustom to. “Still not acknowledging that mysterious pest of a voice,” he japed – but instead of playfulness behind it, this time it was sharp and decidedly pointed.
Jasmine stepped over to stop him from moving past her and in turn the man tried to juke her, but she quickly countered with a slide of her own.
“Oh come on now,” Augustus screwed up his face, “I don’t have time for this Debbie.” He scratched against his arm, his fingers digging against the sleeve of his white coat.
“Not until you tell me what’s up,” Jasmine interrogated.
The man’s mood instantly changed, his brows raising high and his smile beaming bright, “What’s up my uh, lovely little ladybug,” he pressed his index and middle finger against Jasmine’s forehead, sending her an inch back in retreat. Damn him. “Isss,” his eyes went up and to the left, and then his shoulders slowly rose before falling down – his eyes moving back to Jasmine, “I’ve just run out,” he confessed.
What was he getting at? Jasmine gave him a quizzical look.
Augustus’ lips pressed tightly together, he picked up an imaginary cup of sorts and turned it over, making a gesture that he was trying to pour something out. He furrowed his brows, a curious look forming on his face as he searched the invisible cup. He threw his head back and shook his head, sighing. “I’m just out of them,” he announced loudly and proudly not just to Jasmine but to anyone in a fifty foot radius, his voice began to rise into an exaggerated crescendo. “I’m out of fucks to give and my day’s only juh-hust started.”
Jasmine put a hand to her face, trying to bury herself within it – laughing all the while, pinpricks dancing along her very bones; her side threatening to start hurting if she continued. “Okay,” god it’s embarrassing when I wheeze like that, she cringed internally. “I’ll get you a refill later, promise.”
Augustus did smile then, a genuine one as far as her eyes could come to understand. “Good,” there was something though, the slightest hint of a crack in his voice. The doctor pushed Jasmine out of his path and barreled onwards, taking his more typical and manic long strides.
Jasmine watched him with appreciative eyes, realizing in that moment that maybe there was more to the way she felt about the man than just a simple crush.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Luke
It tugged on the strings of his heart, no matter how much he tried to ignore it – even though having to come back was Robert’s fault, it felt like fate – if one could even believe in that kind of crap – was moving him on the great board. His heart tapped a little faster, his surrounding became a little brighter, and because he might run into her, everything felt a little more real.
Luke had a massive spanner in the works that he needed to fix, and it had to be done by the day’s end or Earl would give them all hell to pay. You need to leave her alone, you’re just gonna cause her nothing but pain and trouble – sometimes that’s all the Life felt like it was good for. Getting shit shoveled around and graves dug six feet deep.
Stalking the halls at a brisk pace, Luke Reynolds was on the prowl for his connect. It hadn’t taken him long when he was first at St. Augustine to establish a rapport with one of the pharmacists.
That and the fact they were cutting a fat slice of the profits for themselves, helped things immensely.
Luke moved with purposeful strides up to the pharmacist counter, the corner of his mouth twisting into the slickest smile that he could manage. He lifted his chin when he made eye contact with Janet, “You got a minute?”
She murmured something to her coworker and slipped outside of her workstation, following Luke to a secluded corner of the hall. Janet batted her eyes all pretty, and she laughed sweetly when he gave her his personal smile – not that he actually meant it. He could smell the infatuation on her, the way her eyes couldn’t get enough of him; the way that she had to look away and brush her strawberry blonde hair.
But he felt nothing, not a single stoke below the belt – not an ember or a spark; she just didn’t cut the mustard. Few women did compared to her. The smallest painful little pang shot through his chest.
Janet inched closer to him, “Back to see me so soon,” she purred, giving Luke a sultry look. “Did you miss me that much?”
You? Never. “Of course,” he crooned, shifting his weight and moving closer to the woman, letting the electricity of intimacy guide his movements – he cupped her chin in one hand and brushed off a curl of her hair in the other. “You know I just can’t stop thinking about you, it’s embarrassing but I …” he trailed off and looked away, sucking in a breath through his teeth.
Janet stood there completely enraptured, as if his next words would shatter a web of lies in the woman’s life and reveal some grand universal truth.
Luke leaned in close, touching the woman’s waist and whispering ever so softly in her ear his usual line. He could feel her twitch beneath his hand when the last silvery words left his tongue, a lustful little moan hitching in her throat.
She looked up at him, just starting to bite down on her lip; shades of pink blossoming on her cheeks. In that moment, she was his.
&nb
sp; Luke brought his hand to the small of her back, pinioning the woman against him – letting the heat of their bodies smolder against one another. He leaned in close again, letting his hot breath lick against her supple neck, “I just need one. Small. Favor.”
She placed a hand around his waist and whimpered almost imperceptibly, “Anything.”
A soft rumble escaped his chest, “Don’t be so quick to agree now,” he teased. “I need a couple more Oxycotton’s, dollface, you think you can do that for me?”
Janet batted her lashes, “I just got you so many,” she whispered in disbelief, the lines of her face turning quizzical. “How many more … do you need?”
This wasn’t going to blow over well. “Not many babe,” he brushed his nose against her own softly, a sickly warmth flooding him – he hated having to feign such things, hated not having something real. “Can you do sixty?”
“Sixty?!” She said entirely too loudly, placing a hand over her mouth and shifting her eyes in paranoia.
“Jesus,” he murmured, “why don’t you just fucking deep throat the intercom and while we’re at it I’ll get the boys in blue down here. If you thought I was big just wait ‘till you feel ten blue inches.”
“I can’t do that many Lyle!” She hissed, “don’t be so mean,” she whined.
“Come on Janet,” he pressed, his voice turning hard. He entertained the idea of forcing her into doing it, if it were anyone else that’d be their first line of thought. Luke dismissed it; it would be cruel to do such a thing, and wouldn’t make sense to risk her getting caught.
“I can’t,” she repeated in a whine, “I want to baby but I’m already getting grilled for earlier.”
Luke sighed in surrender, “You’re right,” he admitted, “I was asking too much of you,” he stepped away from the woman. “I’m gonna get going alright?”
“But,” she started, “w-what about what you said?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, “next time baby, next time.” It was always the same promise, and he was sure it always ended in the same heartbreak for them. Marks were marks, no matter what. Getting invested in anyone wasn’t his style; the Life was too hectic for that. Except for the woman that was his weakness …
Now he needed a plan B.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Augustus
The break room was mostly quiet, with only a couple of people going about their day; it was the din of the fridge that Augustus couldn’t break away from. It droned on and on, it’s hum never ceasing.
You need it, he thought. His body felt both cold and warm all the same.
You want it.
Staring down at the empty white coffee mug, Augustus found himself out of place, like he was watching himself from a TV screen. The itch on his arm demanded to be scratched, a fine film of sweat forming along his forehead. He poured the black coffee from its carafe slowly, wisps of hot smoke rising as the brew filled the cup. It didn’t smell right; nothing did without its absence. I can’t believe I brought it with me, what the fuck are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?
The coffee started to spill from the rim of the cup, a couple of searing drops falling on Augustus’ hand.
His hand jerked back immediately, dropping the carafe on the counter and cursing, a wave of pain rolling through where his hand was stung. He grabbed the handle of the cup and flung it against the wall yelling.
Suddenly, all eyes were on him; they said nothing, but they didn’t need to. Augustus sucked in a deep breath, scanning the room, “What?” He hollered, taking another breath and wiping the sweat from his forehead; his hand still fresh with that stinging pain and his heart clutched in sorrow.
Augustus grabbed another cup and poured again, reaching for the hazelnut creamer and eyeballing what he believed to be a tablespoon. He exhaled a hard breath, every bone in his body screamed for it – every thought just led back to Laura.
Laura … he could still see her in his mind. Wilted roses were in her hair, and cold hollow eyes that promised only a last farewell – she wasted away into a swirling smoke of gray.
Augustus brought the cup to his lips, trying to push down those dark thoughts.
At least the creamer made his coffee bearable.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jasmine
Jessica was picking up things quickly for being so young, it reminded Jasmine of herself back in the day. “We’re almost there,” Jasmine promised as the two padded along the black and white checkered linoleum floor. Apparently someone had passed off one of Augustus’ patient files to Jessica by mistake; good a time as any for her to meet the resident jerk with a heart of, well, jerk.
As if Zeus himself had thrown a bolt from the blue, Jasmine stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Luke dangerously close to one of the pharmacists. Janet.
Jessica screwed up her face in confusion, “What’s wrong?” She asked.
Hot coals kissed at the soles of her feet, the blood in her body becoming thick and her head feeling full; every inch of Jasmine’s body had an unseen weight to it.
Get your hand off of him you slut. Jasmine felt the stinging promise of tears just behind her eyes and she quickly stormed off towards the Neurology wing. “It’s nothing,” she all but hissed finally in response, taking long, quick strides.
Jessica struggled to keep up behind her. “Was that your boyfriend back there?” She asked genuinely confused.
“No,” Jasmine answered coldly. “Forget it,” she instructed, “like I said, it’s nothing.” It should have been nothing; a part of Jasmine wanted it to be just that. But the strings of her heart tugged with every step she took down the hall.
He’s not your man, and you’re not his girl – just get it out of your stupid head.
Jessica finally caught up to Jasmine, the purple folder still clutched against her chest. “I’m sorry,” she offered, as if the words might grant her some quantum of solace.
After a couple of seconds they reached the end of the hall. Jessica moved in front of Jasmine and placed her hand on the silver handle, pressing down.
The winds of wrath still filled Jasmine’s sails. “You could at least knock first,” she said with grit teeth.
But by the time she had said as such, Jessica was already opening the door – revealing Augustus situated in his bulky red leather chair, the back of it facing Jasmine and Jessica.
Jasmine stepped forward, “Sorry the newbie here didn’t think to knock,” she offered apologetically, taking another step forward. Her eyes fell on the picture on his table. It was turned down now so that you could only see the black felt of the frame’s rear. Jasmine flicked her gaze and noticed something else, something innocuous.
Something yellow and wrapped tight around his person. She tentatively stepped closer.
Oh god. Pinpricks of fear ran down Jasmine’s spine.
She dashed over to the other side of his desk, his glassy eyes of green staring up at her, the pupils nothing more than jet dots among the cracked, red lines. Drool slowly ran down the corner of his mouth, his head swaying just a little as he shifted in his chair.
The word came out in a slow slur, “La … ura?”
“Augustus,” she breathed, placing her hands firmly around his neck.
Jessica sheepishly approached.
Jasmine shot her a look, “Stay back,” she warned.
The girl did not listen. Jessica gasped aloud, cursing beneath her breath and having to turn away. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, “is that?”
“Close that door,” Jasmine instructed. “Now.” She looked him over good one more time before moving over to the blinds and closing them; Jasmine turned then, getting close to his face and holding the man. When did this even happen? She’d never pictured a man such as him using. “What’s wrong?” She asked, “why’d you go and do that?” The whip was in her voice half the time, undoing the tube tied around his arm.
Jessica closed the door and floated over, pale as a ghost, towards Jasmine. “W-we should be getting
help,” she stammered, “we, we have to report this you know? I—God I mean, we just ha—“
“No,” Jasmine growled, “we’re going to do no such thing. He’ll lose everything you idiot, do you want to do that to him?” She stared daggers at the young resident, hoping that if she did it hard enough she might openly bleed. “You need to stay out of this and listen to me, you take this to anybody and it’ll be your word versus mine. Consider that a warning.”
Jessica crossed her arms and looked away, sniffling.
Jasmine went back to Augustus. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she pleaded, seeing the tears roll freely down his cheeks now – they glinted like sorrowful little diamonds along his face. She felt a hard lump form inside of her throat, “Don’t do this,” she begged, “please, please don’t.” All the bones in her body ached and her heart swelled, it hurt something terrible to picture the man passing away alone in darkness with a needle in his arm.
He blinked then, another tear finding its way from his eye – his big strong hand inching over wearily to Jasmine’s and squeezing it so tight she feared it might break. “I’m … so— sorry,” he confided.
Jasmine hushed him, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she assured, squeezing his hand back. “I’m going to put something on your door, alright?”
He nodded absently, rolling his head back and sighing loudly. “Lose. My practice.”
“No no you’re not,” Jasmine let go of his hand, “I’m going to have Jessica keep an eye on you when I can’t.” I just wish I knew why.
Jasmine looked back at her resident, still addressing Augustus. “Nobody is going to know, I promise you. I promise.”
She didn’t like the look in the girl’s eye.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jasmine
God damn him, he better be okay. Jasmine wished she really did smoke, it’d only been an hour and some change since she’d caught Augustus in his office. The stairwell was empty again and she welcomed the solitude it provided. Whatever the man was going through, Jasmine was going to make sure that she backed him all the way – she knew beyond a doubt he’d do the same for her; besides, wasn’t it the not only the right thing to do – but the pragmatic thing? The man saved so many lives, he was so, so brilliant and passionate.
Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance Page 8
