Page 31 of Life Or Death

“Sorry, pal, but visiting hours ended at eight.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

He moves to block me, one hand drifting toward the radio on his shoulder. “Sir⁠—”

I’m past him before he finishes the sentence, my shoulder clipping his as I stride toward the information desk. He calls after me, but I’m already at the counter, my palm slapping against the laminate.

“Jessica Holland. What room?”

The woman behind the desk blinks up at me, an expression of pure fear flitting across her face.

“Room number,” I growl.

“Sir, you can’t⁠—”

“Four-twelve,” the security guard says from behind me.

I turn to face him. “Smart,” I praise. “Directions.”

He shuffles from one foot to the other, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. “Fourth floor. Turn left off the elevator.”

I tip my chin toward him, silently offering my thanks and make my way to the bank of elevators. When the doors open on the fourth floor, I turn left as the security guard instructed, and come to a halt right in front of the nurses’s station.

A woman in her mid-forties pushes out of her seat. “You can’t be here. Visiting hours ended at eight.”

I weigh my options. I could try charming her, but I really don’t have the patience, and she doesn’t look like the type to take the bait. The only way I’m getting in to see Jess is by being a menace. Lucky for me, I’m a self-proclaimed expert.

“I don’t give a fuck about visiting hours. My wife is Jessica Holland and I ain’t leaving until I see her.”

Her jaw sets and something I can’t quite decipher flashes in her eyes. “I’m going to call security.”

I open my mouth, ready to lay into her when a scream cuts through the hallway.

Raw and guttural.

A sound that would be terrifying if it weren’t so fucking heartbreaking.

My stomach drops as a second nurse appears and races down the hall, chasing the tortured sound. I don’t have to ask questions. The sickening feeling in the pit of my gut is already confirming it’s Jess who’s screaming.

I go to follow the second nurse when the original one moves in front of me, acting like a fucking blockade.

“Get out of my way,” I snarl. “She’s screaming⁠—”

“She screams every night,” the nurse hisses. She stares up at me, her eyes unflinching. “But you would know that if you showed your face every once in a while, wouldn’t you?”

The air leaves my lungs, the sound of Jess’s screams still echoing in my ears, and for the first time in my life, I have absolutely nothing to say.

No clipped reply.

No vulgar words meant to incite fear.

Nothing.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Get out of my way.”

Another scream tears through the hallway, and it takes everything in me not to shove this woman aside and barge through that door.

“Let him in, Marlene.” The younger nurse reappears in the doorway, her face pale. “It might help to see a familiar face.”