“And I pay you very well, right?”
That’s an understatement. In addition to my salary, he will often slip me a cut of the cash that comes in every day. “Yes, sir.”
He has to reach up to put a hand on my shoulder. “I want you to know how much I value your help here. I hope you’ll continue to work with me. Honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do if you ever left.”
His dark-brown eyes are trained on my face. Despite the fact that he’s nearly a head shorter than me, a shiver of fear goes down my spine as I think about the gun in that desk drawer.
“I’ll stay,” I say softly.
He claps my shoulder. “That’s m’boy.”
DeWitt medical school has a drug problem. Everybody knows it. So many students have died that people refer to the school as Dead Med. But I never knew where the drugs came from until now.
And not just that, but somebody is feeding the students to this clinic. They are being sent here in droves. And if the rumors are true, that person is one of our professors—not just that, but a professor with access to the newest class of students.
There’s only one name that comes to mind. Only one professor who works extensively with first-year medical students. Who knows which ones are struggling. Who does one-on-one tutoring because he is justsonice.
And that’s Dr. Conlon, our anatomy professor.
20
The popcorn is popped,and I’m waiting for Heather to come over with a movie. We’re watching some chick flick about a girl who hates this guy but then I guess they fall in love. No, I don’t want to see it, and no, I haven’t grown a vagina. But Heather seemed excited about this movie, so we’re watching it, end of story.
The only problem is I can’t stop thinking about that clinic.
Dr. Kovak is selling drugs to students. I’m certain of it now. And if that’s the case, I can’t keep working there. I can’t be part of that.
Except I’m not sure he’ll let me leave.
Because it’s not just students he treats at the clinic. There have been some really unsavory men who have shown up to be treated—one guy had what looked like a knife woundon his face. Kovak isn’t just going to let me leave with a smile and wave. I know way too much for that.
Plus, the man has a gun.
I don’t know what to do. I’m scared to quit or blow the whistle, but I can’t just let this keep going on. I’ve got todosomething. I have nowhere to turn.
I try to push thoughts of Stanley Kovak out of my head as I make an effort to clean up the coffee table. I toss the half-eaten pizza slice from last night in the trash and brush crumbs off the futon. Our place is a mess—I know it. I’m a slob, and Mason’s spent his whole life having maids pick up after him, so between the two of us, we’re not in great shape.
Heather arrives at my door right on time. She’s wearing a tank top and jeans and just looks so cute that I want to forget the dopey movie and hook up on the futon instead.
She can never know what goes on at the clinic where I work. I woulddieif she found out.
She grins at me. “Got the popcorn?”
I nod. “Yep.”
Heather catches the look on my face. “Abe, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to see this movie?”
I force a smile. “Yeah, definitely.”
She puts her hands on her hips.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “I don’t want to see it. But I’m willing to watch it.”
Heather blinks at me. “Why?”
“Because,” I say. “I want to hang out with you. Who cares what we’re watching?”
Her eyes soften. “Tell you what,” she says. “Let me go grab my purse, and we’ll go out and see that zombie apocalypse movie that’s playing in the theater.”
