Dr. Fake It: A Possessive Doctor Romance

by Hamel, B. B.

  “You offered your services the other day,” Dante said. “I did some digging on you, Dr. Majors. You’re very well respected, considered one of the best up-and-coming doctors in the city. Now, I couldn’t let Cosimo kill a guy like you, even though he says he very much would like to. That would be a waste, and it would bring way too much heat down on us, and we like to avoid that sort of thing.”

  “Killing’s bad for business,” Vincent said.

  “So here’s what we’re offering.” Dante leaned forward and flipped a poker chip up along his knuckles. “You agree to help us with any medical problems that arise for a very reduced rate for the five years, and you agree to pay off the debt this fine young woman owes to Cosimo, then we’ll call it even. How’s that sound?”

  I stared at them then at Gavin, my mouth hanging open. I couldn’t believe what he had just said— five years was a very long time to be involved with the mafia, especially at a reduced rate. I could tell Gavin didn’t like it from the way he held his shoulders, how tense he seemed, and I wanted to speak up, to tell him not to do it, to tell him to walk away from this, but he unclasped his hands and held them in the air.

  “I need to consider your offer,” he said. “I can’t commit myself to five years of this without giving it some thought.”

  “You go ahead and think,” Dante said. “But you’d better think fast. While you’re thinking, Cosimo’s out there thinking, too.”

  “And Cosimo likes to think by, you know, hurting shit.” Vincent laughed and there was a wicked gleam in his eye.

  I knew what they were doing. They wanted to use Cosimo as a cudgel to force Gavin into working for them. It hit me like a hammer between the eyes. If these guys were the head of this crime family, there was no way they couldn’t control Cosimo. They’d be terrible at their jobs if they didn’t have control over their own people. They wanted to use the threat of Cosimo to force Gavin into a bad deal—and I knew Gavin would go for it, because it might mean that I’d survive.

  I couldn’t let him do it. I couldn’t let him throw away five years and risk going to jail for this. There had to be some other way, some way to get Cosimo to back down without him ending up as a doctor for the freaking mafia, because it was so obvious to me that this wouldn’t be five years and done. They wouldn’t let him walk away after five years.

  If he got involved with them, he’d be involved for life, or at least until he did something drastic to get away.

  God, it was horrible, and it happened in slow motion right before my eyes.

  “Thanks for the warning,” Gavin said. “Please, give me two days.”

  “Two days is reasonable,” Vincent said. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find Dante. He’s always at that damn bakery.”

  “I have a weakness for the muffins. Stupidly good muffins.” He grinned big and shrugged.

  Gavin nodded to the men then turned and left the room, snagging my hand as he passed and tugging me along behind him. My heart raced as I pulled the door shut behind us and we hurried back down the long hall and out onto the sidewalk.

  “Gavin,” I said, but he cut me off with a look.

  “Wait.” He walked to the SUV and got into the back again. The driver looked a little surprised but started the car without complaint. I got in next to Gavin, and sat silently as we got a ride home.

  Once we were safely inside Gavin’s home again, I locked the door, slammed home the bolt, then threw up my hands as he stalked into the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

  “You can’t do it,” I said.

  “And why not?” He didn’t seem surprised though, and sipped his whiskey with an exhausted sigh.

  “They’re trying to force you into it. There’s no way they can’t just order Cosimo to back down. They’re trying to make it seem like this huge thing they’re asking is actually reasonable, but it’s not, it’s nowhere near reasonable. Five years, Gavin, five years is a really long time, and you think they’ll let you walk after it’s all over? They’ll kill you and find some other doctor.”

  He nodded and stared at the wall. I wanted to crawl into that brain and figure out what he was thinking, or maybe I wanted to scream into the void and thrash and tear out my hair—but I kept patient and waited, letting him process.

  “I think you’re right,” he said, but my surge of relief was short-lived. “But I’m going to do it anyway.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Why the hell would you go through this this?”

  “Because you have no other options.”

  I stared at him, heart racing. I couldn’t understand why he was willing to throw away his life for me, except as some atonement for his sister. I couldn’t let him do that, no matter what he thought. I couldn’t let him find peace at my expense.

  “There has to be another way.”

  “You won’t take your mother off the ventilator.” He shrugged and gestured at me. “And you’re not going to leave her there alone. So what else can we do?”

  “Negotiate. Fight them.”

  He laughed. “I can try that, but do you really want me to?”

  I stared at him, trying to stay calm. “I never asked for this.”

  “I know.”

  “This isn’t about you. It’s never been about you.”

  “That’s where I disagree.”

  I clenched my jaw tight. “This is about me and my family. You only shoved yourself in the middle of it.”

  “Maybe when I started, this was about that. When I first got involved, I thought it would be a way to honor my sister and to do the right thing for you.”

  “Sounds like you’re still being selfish.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. I can’t deny it. But here’s the truth, it’s not about Jamie’s memory anymore. That’s still part of it, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the surer I am that you’re worth it.”

  I shook my head and took a few steps away from him. “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Come on, Erica. You can keep pretending nothing’s going on between us all you like, but it’s bullshit. I want you and you want me just as bad.”

  “No,” I said, sucking in a breath. I couldn’t go down this route—I couldn’t have this conversation.

  If I admitted to him how I felt, then he’d never leave this alone. This was supposed to be simple, we were supposed to get married and pay Cosimo off, then get divorced when the danger blew over. Instead, feelings got involved, feelings I haven’t been able to look closely at, and I can’t bring myself to let him come closer, to let him speak for me.

  “Yes.” He threw back his drink and put the glass down with a clatter. “Admit it, Erica. You want me. Something’s happening between us.”

  “No, and I want you to let this go. I’m not letting you become a pawn of the mob for me.”

  He spread his hands. “If I have to spend a few years stitching up mobsters, I’ll consider it a small price to pay.”

  “It’s not a few years and you know it.”

  His smile was almost sad, but his eyes roamed along my body. “Years, a lifetime, it doesn’t matter. They’re patients, and I’ll treat them like any other patient, so long as it means you’re safe.”

  “No.” I turned and walked to the steps, heart racing.

  “Erica,” he called after me, but I stormed upstairs.

  I couldn’t face him. I knew if I stayed there and listened, sooner or later he’d convince me. It wasn’t that I agreed with what he was saying, but just being around him made me weaker, made me want to bend and give in and break exactly the way he wanted. I couldn’t risk that, not when I knew how badly things could end.

  He didn’t understand. These weren’t normal men—they were the sort of men that thought paying with my body was a normal thing to do. These were men that wanted to take me as property, treat me as less than a person.

  He couldn’t stand up to that. He couldn’t get involved with that.

  I shut my door, locked it, and curled up in bed tryi
ng to think of some other way out of this, and coming up with nothing.

  21

  Gavin

  Fiona stared at me from behind the nurses’ station and pursed her lips like she wanted me to disappear. It’d been a busy couple of days and Erica was hiding in her room. We hadn’t talked more about what happened with the mobsters, and I wasn’t going to push her into it.

  “How’s our girl?”

  “Sulking.” I shrugged a little, checked the chart of a patient.

  “What’d you do?”

  “Of course you assume it’s my fault.”

  She gave me a look. “Tell me it’s not.”

  I hesitated. “It’s my fault. But not in a bad way.”

  She smiled a little—which surprised me. I thought she’d roll her eyes. “All right then. What happened?”

  I glanced around to make sure we were alone then gave her the short version. When I finished, she chewed on the end of a pen and shook her head. “You’re not going to do it, right?”

  “I’m leaning toward yes.”

  She let out a breath. “No wonder she’s mad.”

  “Come on. You really think she’s right?”

  “I think you’re crazy if you get involved with those guys.”

  “What else am I supposed to do?” I threw up my hands, getting frustrated. “I have money, I have some connections—but this is the mafia. If they want something, they can get it.”

  “Doesn’t have to be you.” She shook her head. “I can’t tell you what to do, but if she says she doesn’t want you to follow through with this, then you shouldn’t.”

  I grunted and looked down the hall toward her mother’s room. “Maybe you’re right, but the alternative is worse.”

  “I hear you. I guess you shouldn’t have gotten involved to begin with.”

  I gave Fiona a look. “You’ve been ever so helpful.”

  “I’m here to please.” She gave me a sweet smile as I waved and walked down the hall. I slid open the door to Linda’s room and stepped inside. She was quiet, peaceful, deep in her coma still, and I stood there watching her for a moment, trying to get my thoughts together.

  I knew Erica was right. Dante and Vincent wanted to get me entangled with their business such that I couldn’t get away. I knew there was no way out for me if I let that happen, but I also knew I didn’t care. Working for the mob would be like working any other job: there’d be downsides and upsides, but I’d get through it.

  It would be worth it, so long as I got to keep Erica.

  That was the problem though. I was beginning to worry that if I accepted this deal and worked for the mafia to save her life, then Erica would leave me out of anger.

  “Your daughter’s a real pain in my ass,” I said softly, looking down at Linda. “I wish you’d wake up though.”

  If she were conscious, this could be so much easier. I could get them out of town, move them to Europe, or California, or wherever they wanted to go. Hell, I’d move with them, and start over from scratch.

  Except she wasn’t awake, and we couldn’t go anywhere.

  I heard the door slide open and figured it would be Fiona, coming over to chide me for hiding out in a patient’s room instead of doing my rounds. I half turned and stopped in surprise as an older man, likely in his late fifties, with short, dark hair stepped into the room. He had brown eyes and slightly tan skin, and wore a nice button-down tucked into his khakis.

  “Are you Dr. Majors?” he asked.

  I nodded and cleared my throat. “I am. What can I do for you?”

  “My name is Dr. Chen.”

  I took a breath and stood there, not moving a muscle. Chen stared at me, his eyes narrowed and his face hard to read. He seemed angry, or maybe impatient, and I wasn’t sure what to do. For a second I wondered if he was upset over the deal I might make with his bosses—since presumably I’d take some work away from him.

  He glanced over to Linda. “Is this your patient?”

  I nodded. “Coma.”

  He walked over and checked her chart. I should’ve told him not to do it, but I was in shock and too distracted to say anything. He skimmed it, grunted, and put it away. “You should remove her breathing tube.”

  “I agree, but the next of kin won’t allow it.”

  “That’s how it goes, isn’t it? Patients want us to save them, but won’t lift a finger to save themselves.”

  “What can I do for you, doctor?”

  He turned to me and inclined his head. “May I sit?”

  I nodded and gestured at the chairs. “Please.”

  He sank down and sighed. He stretched out a leg and rubbed his thigh, and I got the sense that he had an old injury there.

  “I thought you would be more difficult to find, Dr. Majors. But it seems as though you’re famous.”

  I grunted. “Please, call me Gavin.”

  “Okay then, Gavin.” He sighed and crossed his legs with some difficulty. “Tell me something. Do you plan on going into business with the Leone family?”

  I stared at him, not moving. “That’s on the table.”

  “I see. That’s the deal they offered, is it?”

  “Wasn’t my choice, if that makes a difference.”

  He cracked a small smile—tense, but still warm. “You think I’m here to try to stop you.”

  “I think you’re here for a reason.”

  “You’re right about that, but I’m not an enemy.”

  “Then what are you?”

  He considered that for a moment, head tilted to one side. “I believe we can help each other.”

  I stepped back and leaned up against the wall, crossing my arms and trying to keep calm. “All right. How’s that work?”

  “Dante and Vincent see an opportunity. I’ve worked for them for many years now, and I’ve saved their lives more than once. But they’re businessmen, and if they can get good, quality care from you for free, they’ll go that route, and cut me out completely.”

  “Seems like shitty people to be in business with.”

  “You’re right about that.” He gave me another smile then shook his head. “I know you aren’t interested in dealing with them, and I can’t blame you for that. They’re not easy people to work with. They’re demanding of your time, and their injuries are almost always very violent. You will lose patients, and it will be very, very messy.” His smile faded. “But I’m too involved in their world at this point to walk, and the pay has been very good.”

  I tapped my finger against my leg, trying to piece this together. “How did you get involved with them?”

  “Ah, that’s not such a crazy story. I was a young resident once, and a man came into the hospital with a gunshot wound. I saved his life, then his family came to me, and we spoke, and they realized that I was morally flexible and very broke, and we came up with an arrangement. That arrangement lasted for twenty years.”

  I whistled softly. “That’s intense.”

  “I became the go-to doctor for the whole city’s underworld. I don’t practice in any official capacity anymore, and haven’t in over a decade. I even let my license expire.” He laughed, a bitter and hard laugh. “I’m here to tell you that if you make this deal with Vincent Leone, you will end up like me.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?”

  He looked away from me, over to Erica’s mother. His eyes lingered on her for a long time before he sighed. “I wanted to help people once. I thought I was a good doctor, could save lives—and I have, over the years, saved many lives. Except they haven’t been the sort of lives most people would want saved.”

  “But you can’t walk away.”

  “No, I can’t. The family doesn’t allow that sort of thing. If you accept their offer and work as their doctor, you will be stuck with them.”

  I sighed softly. “That’s what Erica said.”

  “The girl?”

  I nodded. “And my wife.”

  “She’s smart then. And completely correct.”

 
“What do you propose then? I assume if I take this job, that will mean you’d be obsolete.”

  “That’s true. And obsolete mobsters don’t live long.”

  I suddenly understand what coming here meant to him. He needed me to back down, not only so he could keep making money—but to avoid getting killed for knowing too much. I could see it clear as day, how his life always felt precarious, like he was always waiting for the mafia to come up with a reason to kill him, for the day that he messed up so badly they decided he needed to go—I could see it, picture how that sort of life could wear on you, break you down, grind you to dirt. He looked healthy and clean, but boring, nondescript, and maybe that was because he spent all his life wondering, fearing, and worrying.

  I didn’t want that for myself, and I didn’t want it for Erica. Maybe taking the deal would save her, but it would damn her to another kind of hell.

  “What can we do about it then?” I asked.

  “There’s something else the family wants. Something they’ve wanted for a long time.”

  I gestured toward him. “I’m willing to offer what I can.”

  “There’s a block of buildings they’d like to renovate, a mix of commercial and residential property. The residential property is no problem, but the commercial is proving difficult.”

  I frowned slightly. “I don’t know what I can do about that.”

  “You know members of the zoning board. Several prominent members have donated large sums of money to your hospital. And one of your doctors is on that board in his spare time.”

  “Who?”

  “Dr. Fred Martin.”

  I sucked in a breath and slowly let it out. “I know him.”

  “I’m sure you do.” He uncrossed his legs and slowly struggled to his feet. “Go to Vincent and Dante. Offer to have their property rezoned as residential in exchange for whatever you need. I have a feeling they’ll accept.”

  “And if I can’t make that happen?”

  “Then I suppose you’re looking at both your future and a dead man.” He walked to the door. “Good luck, Gavin. I’m rooting for you.” He slid it open and left.

  I stood there, staring up at the ceiling.