Devil’s in the Details

Devil’s in the Details

A Novel by

Sydney Gibson

Edited by A.E. Vikar and Associates.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any content with cannot be used or distributed without the permission of the author.

Copyright 2016 Sydney Gibson

This novel is dedicated to the supportive readers who keep encouraging me to write more of what’s inside of my head.

To my parents, who were surprised that my days spent in a dark room was because I was writing a book, and still wonder why I don’t ever go outside.

To Donna, thank you for entertaining me when I ranted and reading the super early drafts of this mess and helping me fix the grammar mistakes.

To Kimberley, you know what you did! This is all your fault! Thank you for everything!

This story is told in two point of views. Look for the below images to signify a change in the character’s point of view.

Alexandra Ivers

                                                                  
Victoria Bancroft

Chapter
1
                                 

"Please, please, just work for me one more time." I turned the key in the ignition for the hundredth time, groaning and slamming the steering wheel with my fist when it clicked and did nothing else. Telling me that the old beat up mini cooper wanted me to give up like it already had. "Shit." I ripped the car keys out of the ignition and threw them into my bag.

I would have to take the damn metro home.

Sliding out of the old car, I slung my bag around my shoulders and kicked the rusted door closed. I was still three months away from being able to look at buying, or leasing a new car having just moved back to D.C. I let out a heavy breath looking around the hospital parking garage, hoping I could spot Stacy's car to try and hustle a ride home out of her. But her shiny red Honda was missing from its usual spot next to the elevator. I groaned, pulling out my cell phone and texting her to see if she was close by. It was almost three in the morning and I really did not want to take a late night adventure on the metro or play taxi cab roulette.

I started walking towards the bank of elevators when the phone beeped with Stacy’s reply.

-
I left the hospital at one after the last rush. I can come back and get you if you want, Alex.-

I rolled my eyes. Stacy lived up near Springfield and it would take her at least an hour to get back to the hospital just to take me for a fifteen minute ride back to my apartment on the fringe of the capital. I sent her a reply to not worry, that I would take a cab. At least I wasn't still in my scrubs. Just a loose jacket, white V-neck and comfortable jeans, clothes I knew wouldn't draw too much attention from the night crawlers that lived only in the darkness of late night hours.

Dropping my phone back in my bag, I dug around until I felt my pepper spray and pulled it out. Linking the keychain canister on the strap, I rode the elevator down to the front lobby and left the stuffy, sterile confines of the hospital.

Outside on the streets of Washington D.C., I took a deep breath of the cold night air, letting the crisp cool air sting my lungs, removing the last pieces of stale hospital air from them. I was tired. It had been my fourth twelve hour shift this week and as much as I liked and needed the overtime, I still needed to get unpacked and settled in at my new apartment.

Turning right, I kept my eyes forward, smiling to the handful of paramedics and nurses smoking in the ambulance bays as I walked towards the metro station staircase. I was familiar with the city, having been born and raised just outside of it until I moved to New York in search of a big exciting life. Only to end up getting burned out and moving back to the smaller big city I was used to.

I trotted down the stairs, relieved but nervous to see the metro platform was deserted aside from a small group of men laughing over cigarettes by the bathrooms. There were two other people with me. A tired looking senate intern in a rumpled white dress shirt and khakis, balancing an overstuffed briefcase while his fingers flew across a cell phone screen. The second person, was a tall figure sitting on a bench reading a Popular Science magazine. I couldn't distinctly tell if they were male or a female since the aviators, USN ball cap and hooded sweatshirt covered most of their face. I sighed and turned back to the empty tracks, leaving them to their magazine and opted to move closer to the intern who looked safe.

I moved to stand near the intern, glancing back at the group of men laughing obnoxiously from their spot. Glaring at me with lecherous eyes when they noticed my attention was on them. I shifted my bag closer to my chest, gritting my teeth. I had my fair share of stares in subway stations, metro stations, bars, and even the occasional examination room while inserting a catheter.

I shifted in my stance, smiling softly at the young intern next to me who was staring at me with tired eyes. He returned my smile with a bashful one and focused back on his phone. My skin began to prickle as the air suddenly shifted around us, making me nervous. I glanced over to the group of men and saw they were staring harder at me, starting to push away from the wall they all leaned against to make their over to where I stood.

I turned back to the dark tracks, my right hand moving to unclip the pepper spray to palm it. I was too tired for this shit. Leaning forward a step I could hear the rush of wind signifying the incoming metro. All I had to do was take the front car and sit behind the driver where I knew there was a camera, and I would be okay. Maybe the douchebags that looked like white rapper wannabes would back off and return to hanging outside the piss smelling bathrooms.

Eyes forward, Alex, keep your eyes forward, the train is coming. I took steps closer to the edge when I felt the group come closer.

"Looky, looky, what do we have here?" The voice was heavy with false ego and cheap cigarettes. The voice fell directly behind me, and I flinched at the smell of a rancid mix of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne. "You lost? You need some help with directions?"

I clenched my jaw, staying silent. I knew from my past that being nice, or rude, would just egged these shit heads on.

The train was moving closer. I could see its bright front light reflecting along the dirty off white tile lining the tunnel.

I went to take a step closer to the edge, when I was surrounded and the face that went with the voice fell in front of me. He was a typical sleaze. Greasy looking with a thin mustache and beard, wearing a baseball cap with an unbent brim and layered clothing sprouting the logos of mixed martial arts fighters and obnoxious sports teams. He had beady brown eyes that squinted at me. The red edges of those beady eyes told me he was coming down from Oxy and would not give in very easily when I rejected his attempts of asking me out on a date or offers to safely escort me back to his place.

I flicked my thumb over the trigger for the pepper spray, feeling his other friends move closer and bump into me as they surrounded me. Shoving the scared as shit intern away from us.

The sleaze leader moved closer, "You a mute?" He scanned down my body in a way that made me want to take a scalding hot shower the moment I got home. "You a hot piece of ass. You looking for a date tonight honey?" He reached out to run his hand down my arm. I took a step back, bumping into one of the others behind me. Pulling laughs from all of them. "Ohh! Looks like she’s a little stuck up." The sleaze moved inches away from my face, "You ain't no better than us." He smirked, running his tongue over dry, cracked lips.

When he reached up to run his filthy hands down my face, I reacted and kicked him hard in between his legs. I watched him fall to his knees, his mouth was agape in the shape of a wide silent O, as he struggled for air, clutching at his balls. I half smirked at the small victory when he recovered enough to gasp out, "Fuck her up, boys."

I spun lifting my hand up to spray all of them when a hard fist caught me in the stomach, making me double over in pain. A hand suddenly yanked at my hair, lifting my head up to set it up for the hard open palm slap that struck me across the mouth. Splitting my lip open, making me cry out in pain and see stars.

I closed my eyes as I felt hands start grabbing at my arms and clothes, hands and fists striking me and sending jolts of pain through my body. One hard strike sent the pepper spray out of my palm and bouncing down the platform, disappearing behind a trash can.

I looked up to see the train come to a stop, the doors open and stare at me as if to beg me to break for it and run. But I didn't, I couldn't. I was being held back by the filthy hands of drug addicts.

I fell to my knees when my feet were knocked out from under me and closed my eyes, begging to whoever would listen that I wouldn't cry in front of these assholes.

Just read your magazine, Victoria, just ignore the shit heads in the corner. That's what I kept repeating to myself over and over. Ignore the shitheads who smell like piss, cigarettes, and burnt heroin. I had sized them up the moment I walked down the stairs to the platform. Them, and the poor overworked kid wearing the typical uniform of a tired intern. He was harmless, too busy swiping left or right on the dating app on his phone.

I normally didn't take the metro, but I had to tonight. The job I just finished had forced me to take unusual routes back home. A bus, a cab, a quick jog through the national cemetery, and now a quick three stop ride before I could collect my car and go home. I hated the metro, no matter the time of day or night. It was the true definition of a sardine can. People shoved together to share their smells, fluids, and worst of all, their life stories if you offered up a kind smile.

The brunette had caught my attention the second she stepped off the staircase. She did not fit anywhere in this scene. Clean clothes, nice messenger bag around her shoulder and the pepper spray clutched in her right hand like it would be a life saver when called upon, gave her away. Never mind the fact it was three in the morning in one of the most dangerous metro stations in the city.

I peered at the brunette through my aviators. She was beautiful, another thing that struck me right away. I rarely ever thought that about anyone, but this woman was beautiful. Her long dark brown hair was tied back and draped down her back. The angles in her face told me she had some sort of European blood running through her veins. The bright dark blue eyes held so much even in the tiny glance she gave me as she surveyed her surroundings. She had eyes that could be kind and fierce all at once, something I had not seen in a long time. It made me want to look at her again and for a little longer.

And even though her clothes were a bit loose on her, I could tell she worked out and kept her body in shape. Leaving me to believe that she was either an actress or a medical professional, considering the late hours and both professions had a hub on this side of town.

I turned back to the pages of my Popular Science when the brunette glanced back at me, I didn't need to draw attention. I would continue reading about solar satellites and wait for the train. Shuffle to the same car as the intern, and hope the shit heads didn't follow. I just wanted to go home, shower, burn my clothes and send off for my payment to be deposited while I ate ice cream.

But that's not what happened. The shit heads, as predicted, couldn't keep it in their pants and made a bee line towards the brunette. Cat calling, whistling and surrounding the poor woman.

Sucking in a breath, I kept my head down. Not wanting to get involved as they shoved the poor intern, who was on the verge of pissing his pants, away. Giving them more room to go after their target.

I clenched my jaw at what I saw, I couldn't get involved and hoped the shitheads would just harass her until the train came, chase her into a car and then giggle like fools as they took another hit of whatever shit they were on. It was a terrible thought process, but I had a long night finishing up a messy job and didn't want blood stains on my clean clothes.

The train came and I stood up. After rolling the magazine up under my arm, I took a few steps closer to the edge of the platform. Glancing at the group of men, one of them shot me a look, flipped me off and growled at me to keep my nose on my face. I clenched my jaw when I heard the disgusting words come out of the mouth of the one right in front of the brunette. I rolled my neck, my gut telling me that I couldn't walk away while my brain was telling me this wasn’t any of my business.

Then the shriek of a man who just had his privates smashed, pulled all of my attention to the group. The brunette had kicked him hard in the testicles, dropping him to his knees to cry like a baby. I smirked and laughed at the sight, mentally giving her a high five. Then I turned to see the first punch strike her in the stomach and the hard slap that followed.