The Fear That Divides Us

by M. N. Forgy

  I adjust my pistol in my waistband as I eye the hall under the hood of my sweater. I can’t go in there until the men on guard leave or fall asleep. I don’t need any unwanted attention with a confrontation.

  I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do when I get in there. I know he is going against the club’s deal. He runs drugs on our side of town, and we run guns on his side. He is doing something against us; otherwise, why would he have tried to kill Lip.

  Jessica ensured me Lip wasn’t followed and nobody saw her with him, but I don’t want to chance it. Augustus dies today, even if I have to sit here all night.

  “Sir, have you been seen--?

  I don’t look up at the person questioning me, not wanting them to see my face. I keep my head down and nod. She pats my arm and walks off, leaving me to stare down the hall. I see Jessica walk toward the room, her blonde hair is pulled up high, and she’s wearing blue scrubs. She talks to one of the guards outside of Augustus’s room and a bolt of adrenaline shoots up my spine causing me to go deathly stiff. My hands twitch in fear of what they could do to her if they figured out who she was affiliated with.

  They nod and she walks into the room, writing something on a clipboard. After five minutes, one of the guards leaves the door, walking down the hall. I slowly stand and take a step forward. I may have to take my chance with one guy. There is no way they are going to leave the door completely unguarded.

  I see Jessica walk out of the room and give the guy still standing outside the door a pat on the shoulder sympathetically, before she walks down the long corridor. I notice her tuck something away in her pants pocket, looking over her shoulder nervously. I stop in my steps and raise an eyebrow at her unease. White lights begin to flash along the hall as a computer at the nurses’ desk beeps like crazy. I take my eyes from the desk and look back down the hall at Jessica walking away quickly.

  What the fuck did she just do?

  Jessica

  I walk to my locker, grab my bag, stuff my things in it, and slam the door shut. My heart is thudding against my chest in mere panic as evidence that I just killed a man sits in my pocket. The blood in my body is racing so hard, trying to keep up with my beating heart. My vision wobbles with clarity. I. Just. Killed. A. Man. I inhale sharply at the thought. A sob racks from my mouth, and my hands tremble as I pull the drawstrings to my bag together. I lean my clammy forehead against the cool locker door, breathing in and out slowly, trying to steady my heart rate. I filled a syringe with adrenaline, and pumped it into Augustus’s arm, giving him a heart attack. I don’t know what I was thinking. All I could think about was Augustus killing Bobby. I pull away from the locker and shake my twitching hands, gaining some control. After a few moments of calming myself, I walk out of the dressing room. I have to get out of here. I can’t be here in the state of panic I’m in.

  “Dr. Wren, you gotta do something,” one of the men I helped wheel in Augustus pleads as I walk past the room holding his dead boss. My head pounds with instant remorse as the man begs for me to save his mentor, but I know what I did will not only save Bobby and the club, but any other person that crosses paths with the likes of such a kingpin.

  I give a tightlipped smile and rub his arm.

  “I’m sorry. I did everything I could,” I respond, my voice soft and low to hide the tremble of fear crackling through. The guy pulls away, runs his hand over his chin, and shakes his head.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize again, my tone in the stern voice I use with everyone when they have lost someone close.

  I continue to make my way toward the exit, my back wet from a nervous sweat, and my hands shaking uncontrollably.

  “Dr. Wren,” Nurse Helga calls, stopping me feet from the exit. I still and close my eyes before turning with a bright smile on my face.

  “I need you to delegate this patient’s care. I’m not sure if we should seek surgery, or send them to pediatrics and let them decide,” she rambles, flipping through a patient’s chart, her lips smacking together as she reads it over. Shit, the reason I was called in, I forgot with everything that happened with Augustus.

  I walk to the desk and she hands me the chart. Looking it over, it’s nothing serious, and looks like the patient will be handled better on pediatrics floor.

  “Send them to pediatrics,” I mumble, pushing the chart on the counter.

  “Will do. See you tomorrow,” Nurse Helga calls out, sitting down at the desk and lifting the phone to call pediatrics. I lift my hand and wave, and walk toward the exit, not faltering in my steps. I try to slow my steps as I head toward my Jeep, but I can’t help but pick up the pace. My heart is slamming against my chest with every beat, my lungs burning, trying to keep up with my sporadic breathing. I have to get home. I have to get rid of the evidence.

  I can tell nobody about this.

  ***

  I walk up the steps to my apartment, my hands still shaky, and my eyes filling with tears at the thought of actually killing someone on purpose. I’m a doctor. I save people not kill them.

  I grab the keys in my pocket, my hand bumping the evidence in my pants. I close my eyes, and shake my head, fishing my keys the rest of the way out. As I look up, I see someone leaning against my apartment door, their legs crossed out in front of them. I stop as I eye the person. They are wearing a dark-colored hoody, the hood pulled over their face as they look down. Is it one of Augustus’s men? I take a step back, and my shaking hands give out from fear. The keys in my hand fall, making a loud noise as they hit the ground.

  Shit.

  I look up from my keys now laying on the floor and see Bobby looking at me from under his hood.

  “Bobby,” I whimper, tears filling my eyes in relief. I try to hold myself together. I don’t want him to know I just killed Augustus. I don’t want anyone to know.

  He pushes himself off my door and strides toward me quickly. I lean down and pick my keys up, closing my eyes tightly to push the tears away, trying to mask my emotions with a fake smile.

  Bobby grabs my face, both of his large hands cupping my cheeks firmly. My watery eyes look directly at his wide blue ones. His eyebrows raise upward, and his nostrils flare from the hard breaths leaving his nose.

  “What did you do?” His voice is shaky, but stern.

  “I…” He knows. He knows I did something to Augustus. “I killed Augustus,” I whisper, tears begin spilling from my eyes. I lower my head, cursing myself for just spitting out a confession I swore not to tell anyone.

  Bobby inhales sharply as his hands press on my cheeks harder. “Why would you do that?” he whispers in disbelief.

  “For you,” I mutter, a tear falling against my lips as I stare into two blue orbs belonging to this man I’ve grown fond of.

  Just as I think he is about to yell at me, he smashes his lips to mine. I grab his wrists, kissing him back. My top lip sitting comfortably between his. He nibbles at my mouth as his thumbs caress my cheeks. This kiss, it’s not like any other kiss Bobby and I have ever had with one another. This kiss is desperate; it’s gut wrenchingly desperate.

  “You stupid, stupid woman,” Bobby mumbles against my lips, his tone emotional.

  He grabs me under the thighs and turns, walking us to my door, his lips never leaving mine. He grabs the keys from my hand, letting us in. As soon as we are in and the door is shut, he plows me against the back of it, sliding one of his hands up my top, kneading my breast. I take my hands from the back of his neck and pull my shirt my head, exposing myself in my pink bra. He pulls me close, smothering his face in my breast, and leaving a hint of my perfume on his face. He pulls us away from the door, stumbling against the couch in the middle of the room, knocking a lamp over in the process. He lowers us to the floor, his hands unbuckling his leather belt, eager to push his pants down. His cock is hard and swollen to the point it looks painful. I lick my lips at the curve his cock displays, my pussy aching to have it inside me. I slide my hands up his shirt, my fingers gliding against his defined muscles. He low
ers himself on top of me, my fingers sliding down his chest to his scar; the scar Augustus caused. Bobby looks between us, eyeing my fingers caressing his scar before looking at me. His eyes strong and intent as he looks at me with a passion deeper than yesterday. I wrap my hands around his neck, and pull his lips back to mine. His mouth desperately taking mine into a breathtaking embrace. He pulls away, brushing his lips along my cheek as he sits up on his knees.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Jessica,” he whispers against my face, stroking his cock.

  “Please,” I moan, arching my back off the floor, grabbing his shirt by the hem, and pulling it up over his head.

  ***

  Bobby fucked me on the floor of my apartment like we were each other’s cure to the screwed-up world we live in. Our hands grabbed onto anything they could for friction and we clawed at each other’s shoulders from the immense pleasure, leaving marks all over one another. Not to mention we both have rug burns on our knees, elbows, and hips. I was positioned on top of Bobby, underneath, and even beside him. The entire time I was lost in Bobby, his hard breathing in my ear, the noises he made when he came inside me. They reached something deep inside of me, breaking the suppressed emotion I have tried to deny for so long. The smell of coconuts and leather emanating off Bobby was a comfort to my fear; it was my serenity and made terror obliterate into bliss and pure pleasure.

  When I closed my eyes, all I thought about was Bobby, and when I opened them, all I saw was Bobby. Travis wasn’t even an ash in the inferno of raw emotion on the floor of my apartment. The torment of Travis, the fear of living for today, or the terror of yesterday was gone.

  “Jessica,” Bobby whispers into my ear from behind me, his arms pulling my body into the curve of his.

  “Yeah?” I whisper half asleep, my body and mind incapacitated from just having the most vigorous sex ever.

  “You know, I would have loved taking you to a coffee shop,” he breathes out, brushing against the shell of my ear. My eyes open as I think about how much Shane complained about me taking us to a coffee shop.

  “I’ve never gotten to take you anywhere, take you on a proper date.” Bobby’s hands run up and down my side as he speaks.

  I turn my head just slightly, listening to him talk.

  “I want to take you on a date, Jessica,” he whispers against my neck, brushing his tattooed knuckles on my cheek.

  “Bobby,” I interject.

  “Just let me take you on one,” he interrupts. One date. It reminds me of our first time, how he just wanted to take me on one ride. That night was the night I noticed myself becoming attached to Bobby. I was more than frightened by the feelings toward him. I was brutally terrified. I clench my eyes and sigh. It’s Bobby; he’ll probably take me to a BBQ, arcade place, or something for the club anyways. Harmless. But it wouldn’t matter where Bobby took me. I would enjoy it, and there lies the problem: I enjoy being with him.

  “Okay,” I mutter mindlessly.

  “Yeah?” he replies, lifting himself up from the floor to see my face, seemingly shocked by my lack of rejection.

  “Just one. I don’t want to ruin what we have. Your life and mine are too different, too complex for us to mix, Bobby,” I mutter, adjusting my head on the small couch pillow that holds both mine and Bobby’s head.

  “I hate to tell you this, but both of our lives are unconventional Jessica. That doesn’t mean our being together would be a bad thing,” he mumbles into the back of my neck, his breath tickling me.

  I breathe deeply as his hands slide along the scars of my back tenderly, but my body doesn’t tense and my mind doesn’t flicker with distressed memories of what was. I smile, the feeling of Bobby’s fingers caressing my imperfection welcoming instead of suffocating. “Yeah. Maybe,” I whisper, closing my eyes to sleep. I knew this would happen and that both of us would break our own rules. The plan to distance ourselves going in the opposite direction. It was inevitable with the overwhelming hold we have on each other. It scares me that I may lose the only person in this world who could take what is left of my heart and burn it.

  ***

  Waking up this morning, my body’s sore from the abuse Bobby so deliciously delivered last night. My hand swipes the hair from my face, a note sticking to my arm hitting me in the cheek. I pull the blue post-it note from my arm and look it over.

  Be back – Sex God

  “Sex God?” I laugh.

  I stretch my arms and gaze around the room, finding my clothes slung all over the floor and the lamp knocked over. It got pretty wild last night. I walk to the bedroom and find some gym shorts and a white tank top, and put them on. I don’t want Addie to come in and see me naked. That would be an awkward conversation.

  I am tying up my hair into a ponytail and the front door opens. Bobby walks in with a bag in his hand and a cup holder in the other with a couple of cups.

  “Just for you,” he remarks, handing me a cup. I smile and take it, the sides of it warm against my palm. I hold it to my nose and inhale.

  “Mmm. Coffee,” I respond, grateful.

  Bobby smiles, revealing two sexy dimples in his cheeks and sets the bag down on the counter. He digs in his pocket and pulls his cell phone out that’s vibrating.

  “Shit, I need to get to the club,” he whispers, stuffing it back in his pocket. He peers up under his thick lashes, and braces himself against the counter with both hands gripping the sides.

  “Where’s the evidence?” he asks gravely. My mouth suddenly dries and my throat constricts at his question.

  “Why?” I ask, turning to dig into the bag of food.

  “So I can get rid of it, babe,” he responds, his tone as if I should know that.

  “You are not taking it to the club, Bobby,” I smart. “I don’t want them to know anything about what I did,” I clip, pulling out a breakfast sandwich. Bobby scoffs, and walks around the counter, crossing his arms, scowling at me.

  “And why is that exactly?” he asks, clearly offended.

  Turning to face him, I sigh. His blond hair is still a mess from last night, and his clothes are wrinkled from lying inside out on the floor. He still looks sexy though, even with a disproving look written on his face. The club has had a few instances where people have come in claiming to be a part of the MC, only to find out they were enemies of the club, causing a shit storm in their wake, and lives to be taken in the process. I can’t take the chance there’s still a rat in the pack who hasn’t been weeded out.

  “Truth?” I ask, running my tongue along my bottom lip nervously.

  “Please,” he mutters.

  “Your club has a bad track record. How many people have come in and said they were loyal and turned out not to be who you thought they were? The last thing I need is word getting out I offed the biggest drug lord in California,” I explain, my tone serious. Bobby nods his head in understanding, his hand rubbing the stubble on his chin, making a scratchy noise against his palm.

  “I understand that so I won’t say anything to the club,” he replies, surprising me. “Unless it needs to be brought to light,” he continues hesitantly, causing me to groan in response.

  “All right,” I mutter. I know going against his club would make him one of those people who betray the brotherhood, so asking him not to say anything unless he has to will have to do.

  “So where is the evidence?” he asks, shrugging.

  “It’s in my pocket,” I reply, pointing to my pants sitting by the door.

  Bobby walks over to my wrinkled pants, carefully sliding his hands into the pocket, pulling the capped syringe out.

  “I’ll make sure no one finds this,” he mutters, sticking it into his pocket.

  He looks down and sees my scrub bottoms with my pink underwear tangled in between them. Looking at me, he grins. He reaches down, grabs my panties, and sticks them in his jeans pocket.

  “Drop them, buddy. Those are my expensive panties.” I point my finger at him. He smiles and stands up, ignoring me.

 
; “I’ll see you tomorrow for that date,” he adds, giving me a wink before opening the door, locking it, and leaving.

  My eyes widen and my heart sinks. Shit, I forgot about the date.

  I sigh heavily and sit down on the stool, sipping my coffee, my mind running wild with what has happened in the last twenty-four hours.

  I hear the front door handle wiggle, making me look over at it warily.

  “Addie?” I question loudly. The handle stops, making me lift an eyebrow. I slide off the stool and walk toward the door. I push up on my toes to look out the peephole, but I don’t see anything but Bree’s door across from me. I unlock the door and open it, finding nobody there. I look down the hall and spot muddy footmarks staining the carpet from my door to the stairs. I look inside my apartment curious if Bobby brought mud in on the bottom of his shoes, but there is not a trace of it on my apartment floor. I look back at the shoe prints in the hallway and realize the shoe print is too small to be Bobby’s. My heart stammers. Someone was trying to get into my apartment. Were they waiting for Bobby to leave? I slam the door shut and lock it quickly. My heartbeat picking up rhythm in my chest. Could it be one of Augustus’s men?

  “Mom?” I yelp and turn around quickly, finding Addie rubbing her eyes trying to wake up, wearing her Hello Kitty pajamas.

  “Hun, I thought you were at Bree’s,” I reply, clutching my chest in panic. She nearly gave me a heart attack.

  “I came over late last night to sleep. Bree is in my room sleeping on her laptop’s keyboard,” Addie laughs. Bree is a studying fool. It’s not the first time she has fallen asleep at her laptop and drooled on her keyboard.

  I give a half laugh, my frayed nerves keeping me from seeing the full humor in the situation.

  “What happened in here last night?” Addie raises a brow, looking around the aftermath of mine and Bobby’s exhilarating sex session. Thank God, Addie is a sound sleeper, and I pray Bree had her headphones on.

  “Hungry?” I ask, pointing toward the counter containing the bag Bobby brought, avoiding her question.