by Liz K. Lorde
Heat bloomed in Sexton’s chest, and an electricity flowed through him freely. Going against the Prez’s wishes for a second time was going to get the man sent to an early grave, but vengeance for a brother?
What sweeter task could there ever be. “You just give me the time and the place,” Sexton replied, “I want to see those rat bastards bleed for doing Gabriel like that.”
Luke brought out a hand and clasped it with Sexton, his grip firm and playful in a show of strength – his other arm wrapping around Sexton’s back in an embrace, “I knew I could trust you,” Luke clapped Sexton’s back.
He returned the gesture, “I got you bro, don’t worry.” The two let go and Luke produced his phone, doing something with it. Sexton clicked his tongue, “you wanna see what those fucks are up to?”
Luke shrugged, “When in Rome,” he turned on his heel, stepping down onto the next level of the strip club; Sexton followed suit just behind the man.
Sexton tapped the man from behind who was wearing the wife beater.
Both of the men turned around, eyeballing Sexton hard. “Keep your hands off me,” the man growled.
“My house, my rules,” Sexton sniggered, he pointed between the two men, “never seen you, or you, around here…”
The jacket wearing man spoke up now, “Just sight-seeing, like any other man,” his words were low, and spoken with a calculate cadence.
Luke butted in on the conversation, “Bullshit.”
The Man in White’s eyes shot over to Luke, “I don’t like the way you’re speaking to my Prez, why don’t you back it up.”
Sexton moved between the men, grabbing the Man in White’s attention – he pulled down his shades, “Come ‘ere,” he suggested.
The man did not move.
“Come. Here.”
Seconds passed before the man finally gave in, only moving an inch or two closer at the most.
Normally I’d bash your fucking skull in right now, you freak – but I’m in a good mood. “Let me clue you in,” Sexton brushed his upper-lip with his thumb, “you’re standing on holy ground. Those girls? They work for us. The boys in here? I know them all. The cops? They hate us, but babe – don’t you make no mistake, they’ll trust the devil they know, over the cocksucking princess I see waiting to get dropped.”
Luke remained composed, still, watching Sexton sweat the two.
The Man in Black chuckled, as his friend’s chest puffed up and his jaw twitched – Sexton thought that he could see the thug starting to blush. Some people were too easy.
“You give us any reason,” Sexton pulled his aviators down further, shaking his head, “hell you give me any reason; you two will be beat, stripped to your bare motherfucking asses, and I’ll have you grind those poles for our lovely little earners. Help put ‘em through college, go on – be a good Samaritan.”
Folding his arms over one another, The Man in Black spoke, “Alright tough guy. You win. Me and mine will play nice; we get it – your turf, not ours.”
Luke stepped an inch closer, directing their attention to him, “Good. Tell me what you two are really doing here then, because as pretty as our girls are,” Luke shared a look and a knowing smile with Sexton, “I know you’re here for business, not pleasure.”
“I’m not like most men,” The Man in Black replied softly, “I like to mix business and pleasure; I’m here for both. This is Sixx,” he pointed to the muscular, bald headed thug. Sixx ain’t nothin’ but a bitch in my eyes, Sexton thought. “You can call me Riss,” he shrugged, “or Fenris. Don’t much care which.”
Sexton laughed, “Name’s Sexton. Darkbringers, right?”
“Luke,” my boy chimed in.
“Yeah, surprised you know that,” Fenris raised a brow.
“Someone’s got to keep an eye open and an ear to the ground,” Sexton bragged.
When Luke and Fenris exchanged contact information, Sexton’s mind began to race – and a pit formed in his stomach. There where whispers of Luke wanting to break away from the Knights, but going after Gabriel’s killer without Allen’s permission, and breaking bread with outsiders?
For the first time, in a long, long time, Sexton James felt the compass of his soul move for fear of losing someone. He pushed his sunglasses back up, and the girl he loved more than life itself swam through his mind, still beautiful as mist over the morning mountains – perfect and crystallized in his mind, he could see her diamond eyes.
Izzie…
Chapter Ten
Jasmine – Thirteen
Marcus was scratching the back of Derrick’s neck, the best black cat I’ve ever known. He was always so sweet, so warm and inviting. Mom was drinking her wine and watching the TV, I’d told her earlier about the future I wanted for myself; since her and Dad kept bugging me about it. But as usual, she didn’t wanna hear.
She called me stupid. Or well, she didn’t say it like – exactly like that. But close enough. I was the stupid one of the family. Better that I remind myself that, then have to have her tell it to me.
Marcus looked down at his pants and pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping it open and looking at the screen. “Hey is it cool if I go to Jacob’s, Mom?”
“Sure,” she said, distracted by her wine and her television. “Don’t be out too late.”
Marcus’ ever present smirk was, well, still present. He walked over to me and kissed the top of my head, whispering, “Try not to give mom a hard time while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try – get me something while you’re out?”
“Yeah,” he replied, “of course. I’ll get you a slice from Fratelis.” Marcus turned and left through the front door, locking it from the outside.
I just don’t see what the big deal is, Jasmine thought. A couple of quiet moments passed between Jasmine and her mother, before she finally broke the silence. “Mom,” she asked, but her mother did not budge, so she spoke again – this time louder. “Why can’t I be a doctor?”
Mom looked at me with those disdainful eyes, sipping her Sauvignon. She always got this way when Marcus wasn’t around. “Honey, it’s a waste of your time,” she declared, looking at her girl with pity. “You’ll go through college hating yourself, wasting our money – your time, it’s, it’s just going to make you look like a fool.”
Jasmine curled up into a ball on the couch, the TV becoming louder. “I’m not stupid,” she said so low that her mother could not hear her – so she said it a second time, louder this time.
“What?” She said, a moment of hesitation lingering in the air, “I didn’t say that you were.”
“Yes you did,” Jasmine blurted, “you did too.”
“Honey—“
“No!” She snapped, looking over her mother’s wine glass – she hated it. Sometimes she dreamed of breaking every last one in the house. “You always do this.” The words came out hot from her mouth, her eyes starting to sting and her chest beginning to feel the weight of being beneath a person’s thumb.
“D-doing what?” Her mother asked, almost spilling the glass of wine – curing beneath her breath. She was wrapped up in her white shawl, looking catty but trying to appear high-class.
“You always belittle me when Dad or Marcus are gone,” Jasmine held herself tighter on the couch, “I don’t want to be an accountant like Dad, and I sure as hell don’t want to be like you.”
Her mother gave a gasp, her eyes widening and chest expanding out. “You don’t get to talk to me that way,” her hand jerked suddenly, involuntarily, but she brushed it off like it was nothing. She got up from the couch, flying off into a rage, “I didn’t bust my ass to raise a spoiled, entitled, stupid little girl Jasmine!”
Jasmine felt a stab in her chest, and her body became lit up with anxiety. She gave her mother one last teary sneer and darted off from the living room, undoing the lock on the front door and slamming it behind her – trying to ignore the hateful words her mother screamed after her.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise when
and why Carice left, Jasmine pushed her away – clearly she was the unwanted child. Jasmine’s eyes stung; it shouldn’t have shocked her, but it hurt all the same to be abandoned.
Chapter Eleven
Jasmine
Jasmine had stayed up for much of the night, comforting the girl and taking some much needed revenge against the men who wronged Alejandra.
She wished that she could reschedule her review for another day.
Glass walls surrounded her, enclosed her, made it feel like every breath that she took was suffocating. She sat on the end of the long conference table, on the other end were the board of directors, Corey White and Augustus Lark.
Augustus’ grey-green eyes met Jasmine’s and for a brief moment, it felt like they were alone in the room – sitting lifetime’s apart; a familiar tension and a quiet hurt shared between them.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
The Dean of Medicine spoke, “Doctor Giuseppe, I’ve been deliberating for some time now with the board. I just want you to know that we respect and admire all of your hard work for the hospital.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied, sweet as the songbird – she knew that the man did not mean the words that left his lips. So why should she mean hers?
“Now, in your personal record it says that while you were going through your internship, you had, what you describe as a ‘nervous gaffe’. Could you, in your own words, describe this to us?”
Jasmine took a breath, her eyes going from Augustus to Corey. “It was a cold day that August, I remember because my feet were freezing off when I’d woken up. I’d been, uh, sick for the past week, just coughing up lots and lots of nastiness. I lived off of ramen back then. But I went in, uhm, it was at,” Jasmine dipped her head for a moment, “sorry. It was at St. Anthony’s. And you know for weeks my bosses kept telling me ‘it’s going to happen, it’s gonna happen Jasmine. You can’t not be the reason that someone dies.’ And I knew that,” she said, closing her eyes for a heartbeat.
I knew that too well. “I knew that. But I wanted to believe that I could avoid it. So I went in that cold August day, mostly better – still distracted because I had some personal issues.”
“What personal issues?” Corey asked.
“Personal ones.”
“Ms. Giuseppe, I just want to make sure that we—“
“It’s alright, it’s none of your business – and nobody else’s,” she licked her lips quickly, “anyway. It was at the tail end of my shift, my 13th hour or something; I was checking up on Jacob Prestly. He was in good spirits,” Jasmine smiled, “I think that made it worse… you get used to a person’s smile.
We talked about his granddaughter, and how badly he wanted to see her again – but how his daughter thought it best to keep her in the dark about what was going on with him. Better to remember him how he was, and not how he is.”
All eyes were on Jasmine now, waiting with bated breath. She felt a twinge of nervous fire curl against her chest, but continued anyway – trying to ignore the uncomfortableness at revisiting the past. “You know, one of the last things he wanted, was just a cup of cold water. That’s it. So I stepped out to grab him something cool to drink, and when I came back, his throat locked up. This man that I came to know was dying, and yes – I panicked. He died before I could fully set up the trach tube.” They didn’t need to know how I spent the next two weeks constantly beating myself up, staring at the ceiling fan at night being unable to close my eyes for any longer than a heartbeat because, if I did, I’d see his agonized face.
“I see,” Corey said, the board of directors exchanging looks. The Dean of Medicine scrawled something down on his legal pad, showed it to the man at his right and whispered something in his ear. “And you didn’t have a nervous gaffe while attempting to save the life of one Able A. Reynolds?”
Jasmine did not say anything. She felt the weighted gaze of the men, and few women, watching her every cadence. “I, slipped up,” she finally announced, “but if you ask anyone the situation was bleak. I don’t feel like my mistake, on that day, contributed in any way to the man’s demise,” she remembered the way he howled those words. The way he bled all over the gurney, the way the blood cloaked his person.
One of the director’s interjected, “I’m sorry but you don’t feel that freezing up, in a life or death situation, in an occupation such as yours – you think that’s not relevant?” The woman gave disapproving eyes, a scowl coloring the lines of her face.
Straightening herself, Jasmine turned her cold gaze to the director, “I think that you can’t save everyone. I think that, I shouldn’t be punished for a handful of mistakes over a career I’ve been fretting over every day since I was a girl – I bled for my job, ma’am.”
“Perhaps you should have bled more,” The Director insisted.
Augustus’ face remained solemn, but unchanged.
She felt a stab of pain in her chest, a familiar knife – it reminded her of Mother. “I paid my dues,” Jasmine said, a tightness forming in her throat, “I’ve failed a hundred times to get here. I paid for med school by myself when my parents refused, and I promised myself time and time again, that this is what I was born to do.”
The Dean cleared his throat, “Yes, yes, you’ll have to forgive Charlene. She’s a charmer,” he looked at Charlene with a knowing glance. “Do you think that this will happen again?”
Jasmine could not say for sure, but she wasn’t about to throw herself to the mercy of these wolves. “Will people, sometimes, die under my care? Unfortunately, yes. Will it be because of me? Absolutely not. If anything, I’ll be more vigilant from here on out.”
Corey conferred again with Charlene and looked to the other board members, and then glanced over to Augustus. “Seeing as how Augustus and you were largely inseparable on hospital grounds, and I know first-hand how many times he’s gotten you to come in when we’ve needed you; I feel there’s no better person to ask. Do you, Augustus, believe that Jasmine Giuseppe should be allowed to continue her practice here?”
Augustus Lark shifted in his chair, and a blossoming heat formed in Jasmine’s chest – the two of them sharing a nervous look. “Well I’ll tell ‘ya this. She’s a damn fine doctor, damn good,” he smiled and brushed at his face with the palm of his hand.
Augustus’ face darkened, “but mistakes cost people’s lives,” his grey-green eyes locked on Jasmine’s, somewhere between an unbound fury and a great sorrow. “If it had mattered, and one day, it will matter,” he snapped his fingers, “a second of indecision, it’s, it is going to shape the lives of more than jh-hust your patient, and you know that. We all know that.” Augustus swallowed hard. “She should be suspended, to reflect on the gravity of her… decisions.”
Jasmine’s fist curled up into a tightly wound ball beneath the table, her nails digging into her own skin. She could feel the muscles in her jaw tightening and a white-hot golf ball sized energy just above the back of her neck.
This was personal. I can’t believe he’s doing this to me, he’s punishing me for what I did outside the hospital.
Corey conferred with Charlene again, and the seconds seemed to drag on endlessly, her skin crawling with anger at Augustus. Corey shifted in his chair and looked to Jasmine, “If you could give us a minute,” he raised his brows, a smile walking along the lines of his face, “if you would please.”
“Sure,” Jasmine replied, averting her gaze and pushing herself away from the desk, getting up and giving Augustus a dirty look before leaving the room.
After a few painful minutes of waiting, the board of directors stood up – as well as Corey and Augustus. One by one they left the conference room, until it was only the Dean and Augustus that remained; they exchanged a brief word that she could not make out.
Corey stepped over to Jasmine, and Augustus quietly departed. “After discussing with the board, we’ve decided the best course of action is to suspend your license temporarily. For one month’s time.” He nodded his hea
d, “I expect you won’t make this mistake again, Ms. Giuseppe,” his tone was barbed.
“No,” Jasmine replied, “I won’t.”
After the Dean went about his business, Jasmine immediately looked for Augustus, taking long, quick strides. She caught up to the man, putting her person between the closing elevator door and stepping inside. Augustus averted his gaze.
She waited for the doors to close before railing into the man, “What the hell was that?!”
“That was me telling the truth,” Augustus countered, his chest pushed out.
“And that had nothing to do with what happened between us? You’re messing with my livelihood here, don’t try and pretend that what you said didn’t matter.”
Augustus bared his teeth, but said nothing. The elevator rang as it progressed down a floor.
Jasmine stepped closer, “Oh yeah, no, you would never stoop that low,” she sarcastically remarked.
“Yeah you’re right,” he snarled, “I don’t go around people’s backs like that. I’m not a coward.”
The elevator dinged and heat bloomed against the back of Jasmine’s head. “Yeah you are, but only one of us is humble enough to admit it. You can’t do it, can you? You can’t ad—“
Augustus’s jaw jumped and in a violent burst he shouted, “Shut up, just, god. Damn you – you just don’t stop. I had feelings for you, Jasmine,” he sucked in a deep breath, “real feelings. And you cut them all down,” she could see something in his eyes, a hurt and a sense of longing beneath the green.
It was all so quick, she never saw it coming. His lips were on her own for one brief spell before Jasmine immediately pushed him away. “No,” she spat with a venom, “you don’t get to do that,” her heart was racing with sickness and guilt; but the smallest, darkest part of her did not want to admit to the lust and the rush. Augustus’ eyes searched her own as she spoke, “if I closed the lid with what I did, then you just nailed it shut.”