by Hamel, B. B.
“Can I ask you something?” Fiona gave me a sweet smile.
I nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Why Gavin?”
I blinked, surprised and not sure how to respond. “He’s the only person that’s offered to help.”
“I’m sure you could find someone else. I mean, there has to be other options.”
“What’s with you and him?” I gave her an odd look. “I don’t get why you hate him so much.”
“I don’t hate him.” She seemed surprised and then sighed, looking away. “I have a problem with the way he’s treated some of the nursing staff.”
I wanted to ask for details, but Gavin came striding toward us down the hall. He frowned at me and must’ve realized that he wasn’t paged for a medical emergency.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
Fiona gestured at me. “She needs to talk to you.” She lingered for a second then let out a frustrated breath. “I’ll be at my station if you need me.” She walked over to the desk and sat back down with an audible grunt.
Gavin stared at me and leaned close. I could smell the soap on his hands, antiseptic and powerful. “What’s going on?” he said, voice soft.
“Cosimo is here.”
He blinked once and drew up to his full height like a snake sensing a predator. “Where?”
I was surprised that he accepted it so quickly, but maybe I shouldn’t have been. So far he’d been willing to go with some strange and crazy things, it shouldn’t have been a shock to imagine he’d believe me right away.
“In my mom’s room,” I said. “He wants to talk to you.”
He nodded and strode past me. I hurried to keep up, worry racing down my spine. I wanted to scream and to keep him away from there—I was so afraid Cosimo would do something drastic.
But then again, Gavin was a big man, powerful and strong and muscular. I had to imagine that he could take care of himself, or at least he seemed to think so—otherwise I doubt he would’ve offered to help me with all this.
My heart raced wildly as Gavin pushed open the door and stepped into my mother’s room. He slid aside the privacy screen and stared down at Cosimo as the gangster smiled and stood.
“Hello, Dr. Majors,” Cosimo said, extending a hand.
Gavin didn’t move to shake it. “So you’re the guy.”
Cosimo let his hand drop and shrugged. “I suppose that I am.”
I lingered near the door, glancing furtively at my mother. She seemed fine, as far as I could tell. Her chest rose and fell, and it didn’t seem as though he hurt her at all.
“I’m glad you came.”
I looked back, surprised. I hadn’t expected that. I figured he’d throw Cosimo out or maybe call security, but instead he crossed his arms over his chest and stared. Cosimo was a couple inches shorter than Gavin, and at least twenty pounds lighter, but the mobster didn’t seem intimidated at all.
“I’m glad as well. Shall we sit?” He gestured at the chairs.
Gavin hesitated then shook his head. “No need. We can finish this right now.”
“Oh, but Dr. Majors, please. I want to discuss our situation a little bit.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. I’m going to pay you the money Erica owes, and then you’re going to leave her alone.”
Cosimo’s smile faltered. “That’s not an option.”
“I’m sorry, you must misunderstand me. I’m not asking permission.” Gavin took a step forward and I wished he would stop. Cosimo looked calm, almost harmless, but I knew there was a psychopath lurking underneath that simple exterior. I remembered the SUV forcing our car off the road and into the utility pole, remembered the crunch of glass and metal and plastic, and the pain that flared through my body.
“Dr. Majors, I’m not trying to get off on the wrong foot here,” Cosimo said, keeping his voice even, “but I don’t enjoy being threatened.”
“There’s no threat here. I’m going to pay you money.”
“I don’t want your money.” He looked at me. “I want your wife.”
Gavin let out a strange snarl. “She’s not for sale.”
Cosimo laughed, mirthless and harsh. “Everyone’s for sale, doctor. Believe me, I’ve been in this business for a while now, and I’ve found everyone has a price.”
“She owes you thirty grand for her father’s debts and I’m willing to pay. Why would you push for more?”
Cosimo’s face changed in an instant. He went from somewhat calm and collected to a rage-filled demon faster than I would’ve guessed.
“I wanted her and you stole her from me, and that’s not something I can abide.”
Gavin snored. “So this is about your pride?”
“This is about my reputation. That girl was supposed to be mine, and now you’ve shown the world that my name isn’t worth fearing. If some doctor can come and steal away something of mine, then any asshole with a gun might get ideas.”
“I’m sorry you’ve chosen such a volatile business,” Gavin said with a smirk, “but that doesn’t change anything. Erica’s not for you and never will be.”
“You don’t seem to appreciate the situation you’re in, doctor, so I’m going to be explicit.” Cosimo didn’t move and his affect hardly changed—and yet the tension in the room seemed to double, even triple. I pressed myself against the glass behind me and stared between them, praying that nothing happened, and not sure how I would live with myself if something did.
In that moment, I saw for the first time how crazy it was that I accepted Gavin’s help. I never should have let him get involved in this, not for all the money in the world, not even if he begged me. I should’ve walked away, no, I should’ve run the hell away and dealt with it myself, but with my mother in a coma, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. And now Gavin was in trouble, and I was terrified he’d be the second person to get hurt because of me.
“You can threaten all you want,” Gavin said, voice low, “but I already told you the situation. I married Erica to keep her away from you, and now your best option is to take the money. Cut your losses. Be a smart man.”
“If you don’t leave her and walk away from this, I am going to kill you.” Cosimo said the words as simply and as plainly as he could, and the effect was chilling. “I am going to murder you, Dr. Majors. I don’t care who you are, or what you do for a living. I will send men into your apartment, and I will have them cut your throat while you sleep. I’ll make it look like an accident, or a suicide, or maybe I’ll make it looks like Erica here decided to flip her shit and take it out on you.” He grinned, his teeth big and white and horrifying, like slugs in his gums. “You will leave her, doctor. You will walk away from this situation. Or you will regret it.”
Cosimo didn’t speak another word. He walked forward toward the door, slipping past Gavin. Their shoulders nearly touched, and I shrank away as the mafia man’s eyes slid in my direction, reptilian and terrible.
“If that’s how you want to play this, then that’s how we’ll play it,” Gavin said, turning to stare Cosimo down. “But I’m telling you now, a smart man would take my money and be happy.”
Cosimo reached the door, slid it partially open, then leaned toward me. “Our first night together is going to be delicious,” he whispered, then stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.
Gavin walked to the glass and stood there, hands curled into fists. He stared as Cosimo walked down the hall with a jaunty bounce in his step, and I couldn’t stand watching it anymore. I walked to the other side of the room, breathing fast and deep, trying to suck enough air into my lungs. It felt like I might pass out at any second, like I couldn’t draw in enough oxygen, like the room was filled with smoke or cotton candy or some life-sucking viscous liquid that managed to slide down my throat. I gagged and nearly puked as Gavin walked toward me.
He put a hand on my back and gently stroked along my spine. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, voice soft and low. “He’s bluffing.”
I looked
up at him and felt like my eyes might fall from my skull. “Bluffing? How can you say that?”
“Men like him don’t want a problem like me.”
“Then why wouldn’t he take the money?”
“Power games. Bluffing.” He shrugged. “Any number of reasons.”
“You can’t know that. He might be crazy. You saw him.”
He took a breath and nodded slowly. “You’re right, that’s possible.”
“Then what are you doing?” I face him, brain working in crazy circles, trying to find a way out. “You need to leave me and leave me right now.”
He grabbed my hands before I could say anything else. “I’m not going to do that.”
“I’m not worth this. He’s going to murder you and—”
“No,” he said with a hard edge to his tone. “I’m not backing down from this just because that asshole made some threats.”
“Gavin—”
“Stop it.” He squeezed my fingers almost hard enough to hurt. I sucked in a breath as he relaxed his grip and pulled me against him.
I sunk into his chest and pressed my cheek against his warm body. I breathed deep and smelled hospital, deodorant, and his own musky scent beneath it. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight, held me there, and I wanted to cry but I bit back the tears. I couldn’t let him see me weep, not when I wanted him to leave me—it would only make him want to stay even more.
Eventually the embrace broke off and I stared up into his eyes. I had the stupid, crazy desire to kiss him, but turned my gaze away toward my mother lying in bed.
He walked to her, checked her vitals, looked at her chart, then sighed and shook his head. “We’ll figure this out.”
“We don’t have to.”
He gave me a look, but said nothing as he turned and left the room.
I stood alone at the foot of my mother’s bed and wondered if I’d ever see her awake again, or if I’d get out of this situation alive.
11
Gavin
Erica was distant for the rest of that night and I didn’t push her to open up. I had an early shift the next day and left her in my apartment with a credit card and instructions to buy whatever the hell she wanted.
Money wasn’t a problem, but I could tell trust would be.
She was afraid. I couldn’t blame her. Cosimo was a pretty fucked up and scary guy—I could see that plainly enough from the two minutes I spent in his presence, but that was all the more reason I’d have to keep him away from Erica. I couldn’t let a man like that take a woman, let alone a woman I was beginning to care about.
I did my rounds and found myself outside of Erica’s mother’s room with a Styrofoam cup of awful hospital coffee. I stared in at her still form, her chest rising and falling, and wondered what the hell I was going to do about her. Footsteps nearby pulled my attention away as Fiona approached, looking tired, a sweatshirt thrown over her shoulder and a backpack hanging from her right hand.
“You look exhausted,” I said.
“You look great too.” She nodded at Erica’s mother. “How’s she doing?”
“Same as before.”
We stood in silence for a moment. Fiona was on her way out after a late shift, and I was getting my day started, which meant this would be our only chance to talk for a couple days.
“Look, about Erica.” She took a breath and rubbed the back of her head. “I think I’m being too hard on you.”
“No kidding.”
“It’s just that I’ve known you for a few years now, and you’ve never so much as gone on a second date. Now you’re married to that girl?”
“Marriage of convenience.”
She laughed. “Yeah, for her maybe.”
“I don’t have a great track record for dating, I’ll admit it.” I shook my head and looked at her. “But it’s not about dating and you know it.”
“Right. Mobsters.”
“Believe it or not, I care about people.”
“Don’t give me that shit. I’ve seen you pull all-nighters, up way past when your shift ended. I know you care.”
“Then why’s it so hard to believe that I have good intentions?”
“I don’t know, okay?” She looked frustrated, and her glare made me smile a little. “This is so far outside the bounds of normal that I’m having trouble dealing with it.”
“I hear you,” I said, still smiling. “I’m adjusting too, but I swear Fiona, I like this girl and I plan on taking care of her.”
She gave me a weary nod. “All right. I’ll trust you on that.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“But I’m also going to be honest with her when she asks about you.”
I arched an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know, nurses talk.” She turned and headed down the hall with a wave. “Have a good shift.”
I was tempted to chase after her and make her elaborate, but I let her have that victory. I could imagine what she’d say anyway: I’ve slept with a number of the nursing staff and haven’t always been a perfect gentleman. I’m not ashamed of it, since we’re all adults and I’ve never taken anything too far—and besides, I like to think I left them all better off than they were before. Or at least I left them satisfied.
There was one messy situation. It was right after my sister’s death when I was struggling through what had happened, dealing with her estate, and keeping involved with her murderer’s trial. I took out a new nurse named Celia and we ended up fooling around together, but afterward I completely ghosted on her. I realized I couldn’t handle getting involved with someone, realized I could barely handle waking up in the morning and coming to work, but I never could bring myself to talk to her like a goddamn adult. She’d been hurt, and things were awkward at work for a while until she left the hospital and went somewhere else.
Fiona blamed me for that, of course. They’d been friends at the time, and Fiona heard all the nasty details. She still blamed me for Celia leaving the hospital, and never quite trusted me again after that.
I didn’t hold it against her. I was a mess back then, barely fucking functioning, a walking zombie with hollowed-out eyes and so much anger I could barely stand to see the light of day.
I sighed and leaned up against the glass. I turned to leave when a woman walked toward me, straight black hair, pale skin, severe frown and wrinkles around her eyes. I forced a smile on my face as Hospital Administrator Maria Dickens approached in her best dark pantsuit carrying a binder full of documents I was sure would piss me off.
She was a paper pusher. Everyone in admin was a paper pusher, worried more about money and logistics than about saving as many lives as they could. That was my job, saving lives, while it was their job to keep the lights on. I understood the necessity of people like Maria, and even appreciated some of what she did—after all, if the hospital went bankrupt and closed, we couldn’t save any lives at all—but her priorities were always focused toward money and not toward patient outcomes.
“Dr. Majors,” she said, flashing me her fancy politician’s smile. “How are we doing today?”
She always used the plural for some reason, like she and I were in it together, grinding it out in the trenches, speaking with patients, making life-and-death decisions. We weren’t in it together though, and I could think of a few times in the past couple weeks where her decisions made my life a lot harder.
But of course I didn’t say that. Instead, I smiled back and nodded. “I’m doing good. How are you, Maria?”
“Fine, fine, fine.” Another weird tic of hers. She always said it three times, like she was trying to make herself believe it. “Have you been checking on Mrs. Molloy?”
I hesitated then glanced toward Erica’s mom. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”
Maria turned the pages in her folder. “Linda Molloy, age sixty-three. Did you know that she doesn’t have insurance?”
I grimaced. “No, I didn’t.”
“No
insurance.” She clicked her tongue. “It’s a messed up world, isn’t it? When folks can’t afford insurance.”
“Didn’t she have a job?”
“Nothing listed in her file. And she’s getting some very, very expensive care.”
“I’m not sure what you propose we do with her.” I nodded at the machines. “Can’t unplug anything.”
“No, but there are other options. Public hospitals that’ll take her for cheap. Long-term nursing perhaps. We have ways of dealing with this.”
I knew what her ways were. They involved kicking her out on the curb and hoping someone else would step up and do the right thing.
I hated this shit. It was horrifying that folks went into debt to save their lives. It pissed me off that this hospital had so much bloat, so many high-paid executives and administrators strutting around like they mattered, and yet patients still got thrown out when they couldn’t pay up.
It was fucked up, and I knew where this conversation was going.
“That’s not going to happen though.” I stared at Maria, narrowing my eyes. “She needs this place. She needs real care.”
Maria shook her head. “Not sure what you want me to do about it, Dr. Majors. She has no insurance, which means she can’t pay for our services.”
“We don’t have to ship her off to the chop shops.” That was my pet name for the nursing centers that were public funded and barely operating at a reasonable standard of care. That was where the admins loved sending folks with no insurance.
“I hate when you call it that.” She frowned at me and shook her head. “But you know how this goes.”
“What’s her bill at?”
“Oh, you know, it varies. I’d say she can stay for another couple of days, but beyond that? Who knows.”
“What if she stayed for another month?”
Maria laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
