by Hamel, B. B.
I wrapped my hand around the handle and slid the blade free. He grunted and hit me in the face once, twice, and tried the wrestle the knife from my hands. I turned him, threw him onto the bed, and wrenched the knife from his hands. He got to his feet and jumped at me, trying to hit my face and head with his fists, and I did the one thing I knew I shouldn’t have done, the one thing I knew was a huge mistake.
I plunged the knife into his chest.
He gasped, shocked. It slid in through his ribs and blood gushed out over my hands. I shoved him away and he staggered, slammed against the dresser, then dropped to the floor. He convulsed, staring up with me with wide, shocked eyes, and I watched him bleed out and go still.
I stood there, not moving, heart racing. The violence had been so sudden, and so intense. I hadn’t fully processed what just happened as I turned to the bathroom door.
“Erica,” I said, leaning up against it. “He’s gone. He’s… he’s finished.”
She opened the door a crack then threw it wide. I saw relief in her eyes as she hugged me. “Gavin.” I held her for a moment, then she pulled back, staring over my shoulder. “Oh my god.”
I followed her gaze. Cosimo was dead and his blood soaked into my floor.
“He came at me,” I said, shaking my head. “I had to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Gavin. You killed him.”
I took her by the shoulders. “We’ll talk to them. Explain everything.”
“They’re going to kill us.” Her eyes were wide. “Oh my god, Gavin.”
“He was a psychopath. What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know.” She buried her face against my chest. “Oh my god, I don’t know.”
I held her there, mere feet away from the body of Cosimo, the bastard, the piece of shit, the monster.
I’d never killed someone before. I’d had patients die, of course— that was part of being a doctor. But I’d never taken a life on purpose.
It should’ve felt strange, or angry, or sad, but instead I felt good.
I felt very good.
I killed that piece of shit before he could hurt Erica, and he deserved it, deserved everything he got.
Maybe that made me a bad man, but I didn’t care.
I protected her, and I’d do it again, a thousand times if I had to.
“I’ll take care of this,” I whispered. “I promise.”
“I know.” She cried, and I held her, and I knew I wouldn’t let her down.
28
Erica
We slept in a hotel that night.
Getting there was a blur. One second, I stood over Cosimo’s dead body as his blood spread out around him, dripping down through the floorboards, staining the edges of the bedspread blackish red, and the next I was in the shower in a room I didn’t recognize. I found Gavin sitting on the end of the bed with his head in his hands, and I wrapped my arms around him, my body still damp, and leaned against his warmth. We sat like that for what felt like hours before falling asleep.
He got up early the next morning and disappeared before dawn. He came back and woke me up by sitting on my side of the bed and kissing my forehead gently.
I blinked at him, squinted at the clock, and sighed. It was just after eight in the morning.
“Time to get up,” he said softly.
“Last night was a dream, right?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He stood and gestured. “I brought coffee and bagels.”
“I’m not sure I can eat.”
“Try anyway. We’ve got things to do.”
I sat up on my elbows and watched as he walked over to a black duffel bag. He opened it up and I caught sight of money, bundled stacks of fresh cash. He glanced back over his shoulder at me with hard eyes and gave me a tight smile, but didn’t speak.
I managed to drag myself out of bed, downed some coffee, burned my tongue, then took another shower.
I got dressed and stared at myself in the mirror. Dark bags hung under my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so tired. I left the bathroom and found him standing near the window, staring outside. He half turned to me and the light fell on him just right, illuminating the long line of his jawbone, made his light eyes sparkle, his dark hair glow. He tilted his head and smiled, and I melted then, melted and couldn’t stop myself as I walked forward and into his arms. He held me tight and kissed my hair.
“It’ll be okay,” he said softly, whispering. “We’ll get through this.”
“You killed him.”
“I did.”
“What are we going to do?”
He pulled back and held me at arm’s length. “We have to make some hard choices now.”
I nodded once, biting back tears. I wasn’t going to lose it now, not when he needed me most.
He killed for me. That thought kept running through my mind, over and over again. He killed for me, he killed for me. He took Cosimo’s life and ended that bastard right then and there, he did it for me.
I could barely breathe. I kept seeing the knife plunge in and the shock on Cosimo’s face as they toppled to the floor. I kept seeing the blood, so much of it, so much blood leaking out all over the place, and the wild anger, the surprise and the rage in Gavin’s eyes.
It never should’ve come to that.
I hated myself for letting it happen.
But it was done. It happened, and I couldn’t go back in time to take it back. Now I had to step up and do whatever was necessary to make sure Gavin got through this okay.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“Here are the options as I see them.” He squeezed my shoulders before he began. “First option, we stay in the city, we keep your mother where she is. We’ll go to Dante, pay him what we owe him, and beg for his forgiveness. I don’t know how they’ll react to that, but I imagine I’ll be working for them for a long time.”
I chewed my lip. “And the other options?”
“Next option is, we take your mother off life support, and then we leave the city. I’ll pay Dante off, and then some, and we’ll leave, we’ll get as far from here as we can. We’ll run away and bring your mother with us if we can, or we’ll find some way to make sure she’s taken care of if we can’t.”
I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut, a horrible pit in my stomach. “And the last option?”
“I leave alone,” he said softly. “I pay off Dante, take full responsibility, and then run. You stay here with your mother, and we hope he doesn’t take it out on you.”
I opened my eyes, staring at him. I could see the pain in his expression and I knew how hard it was for him to even suggest something like that. I didn’t want him to leave me, didn’t want to be apart from him for a second, even if he did murder a man in front of me—he saved my life, and he’ll keep saving my life, I knew it. I couldn’t leave him behind.
“Not that,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“I don’t want to leave you either, but it might be the best option for you and your mom. Without me around, the mafia might leave you alone, and your mother might have the best shot at staying on the machines, and maybe waking up one day.”
I bit back tears and squeezed my eyes shut. I felt dizzy and pulled away from him, staggering over toward the bed. I sat down hard and leaned forward, curling up into a ball, and it hit me all at once, the realization, the horrible truth: my mother was never going to wake up.
It wouldn’t happen. It’d always been a long shot but now that window was closing, and there was no way we’d ever open it again. I couldn’t keep going through this with the dumb, wild hope that she’d ever come back to me, couldn’t keep forcing Gavin to make bad decisions because I couldn’t leave my mother behind. It was time to accept what had happened.
She wasn’t going to wake up.
My mother died, or part of her died, and the part that was gone would never return.
I sobbed hard into my hands. I felt his arms, felt his comforting b
ody against mine. I hated my father, hated Cosimo, and now both of those bastards were dead. I hated them both so much for taking everything away from me, my mother, my life, my world.
I wouldn’t let them have Gavin, either.
I calmed down enough to breathe after a few minutes of horrible, gut-wrenching sobs. I looked up at him and steadied myself before touching his face.
“We’ll take her off the machine,” I said.
He nodded once. “That’s what I’d do.”
“Maybe she’ll breathe. And then we can all leave together.”
“You’re making the right choice.”
I shook my head. “I’m making the only choice. I’m so sorry, Gavin. I’m so sorry I put you through this.”
“No,” he said, wiping my tears away, and kissed me. “I’m happy I got involved. I’m happy I stepped in when I did, because otherwise I wouldn’t have met you. I can’t let you walk away from me, Erica, not now, not after everything we’ve been through. You mean too much. You matter too much.”
I kissed him then, tasting him, needing that simple pleasure, that simple embrace. He returned the kiss and I spiraled into him for a moment, losing myself and refusing to come back, at least for a few seconds.
We slowly broke apart. “How do we do this?”
“I’ll text Fiona and she’ll prep your mom. Then we’ll stop by Dante’s place, pay him off, and head to the hospital.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He kissed me one more time then stood. “We should get moving though. I have a feeling today’s going to be a tough day.”
“Give me a second.”
“Take your time.” He walked to the duffel and picked it up. “I’ll be in the hall talking to Fiona if you need me.” He disappeared out the door and left me alone in the room.
I stared up at the ceiling. I wanted to cry and scream again, but that was behind me. It was time to move on from childish reactions, to move on from childish things.
I had a job to do.
I got up, washed my face, fixed myself up, then joined Gavin in the hall. Together, we walked to the lobby, and went outside.
* * *
The bakery felt oppressive as we walked inside. It had the same chic hipster vibe as before, but somehow it felt like we stepped into a dungeon, walking to our doom. I stood close to Gavin and let my eyes roam the space: a guy with a bushy beard and a MacBook sat in the corner typing away, two young women in workout gear sipped coffees and laughed, and Dante sat in his customary spot with two of his goons, each of them reading newspapers.
Gavin lingered, staring at them, until Dante finally looked up. He seemed surprised and gestured toward us.
“Didn’t expect to see you two here.” He nodded and his guys switched over to another table. “What can I do for you?”
Gavin walked over and placed the duffel down on the table. It rattled Dante’s coffee cup. He nodded at it and stepped back. “This is for you.”
Dante frowned slightly. “What’s this?”
“Everything we owed Cosimo and then some.”
“I didn’t realize we’d finished our deal.”
“Dr. Martin’s going to rezone those buildings for you, and this money is twice what Cosimo would’ve gotten.”
Dante took the bag off the table and put it onto the floor beside him. “And why would you give me twice as much?” He frowned and stared at Gavin with obvious uncertainty.
“Cosimo attacked Erica last night.”
Dante’s frown deepened. His gaze moved to me then back to Gavin. “And I assume something bad happened.”
Gavin nodded, but didn’t speak.
A long silence descended. Dante stared at the pair of us, then leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He seemed frustrated more than angry, which was strange—I expected him to flip out, to scream and fight, but maybe the non-mob witnesses were keeping him in check.
“Sit down,” he said finally.
Gavin hesitated, but sat. I pulled up the seat next to them and perched on the edge, ready to get up and run at the first hint of something bad.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” Gavin said, voice steady and even. “He wasn’t supposed to attack her.”
“Cosimo’s always had a mind of his own,” Dante said. “He’s been made for a while now, but in the last couple years, he’s been a little… hard to control. I had a feeling he’d let himself go off the deep end sooner or later.”
“I wanted to do this the right way.”
“I’m sure you did.” Dante leaned forward. “But here’s the thing, and correct me if I’m wrong here, but there’s blood on your hands now, the blood of one of my guys. That’s right, yeah?”
“That’s right,” Gavin said, not trying to deny it.
“Then we’ve got a real big problem. I can’t let you get away with killing one of mine without retribution, you understand that, right?”
“I understand you feel that way,” Gavin said, “but don’t forget Cosimo killed Erica’s father, put her mother in a coma, and tried to murder both of us.”
Dante gave him a tight smile. “So you’re pleading self-defense.”
“Among other things.” Gavin nodded at the bag. “And I’m still trying to make it right.”
“With this?” Dante scoffed and kicked the duffel. “Fuck this money. I need a lot more than some petty cash to smooth over a dead capo.”
Gavin grimaced. “What do you want?”
“Your services. Not for five years, not for ten, but for the rest of your working fucking life. Your life for one of my guys, yeah? And you keep saving more of my guys. Sounds like a fair trade to me.”
I felt myself going crazy. I wanted to get up and yell, but Gavin’s face was impassive, almost terrifyingly calm. He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off Dante.
“I can do that.”
“No,” I hissed, unable to help myself.
Gavin shot me a look. “Erica.”
“No, I’m not letting you—”
He put a hand on my leg and squeezed. “Stop.”
I stared at him, heart racing. This wasn’t supposed to be how this went. Dante grinned at us and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
“I take it your little fake marriage turned into something real, eh? Shit happens more often than you think.”
Gavin moved his hand from my leg and turned to face Dante. “Listen to me. If I get involved with you, you will never bother Erica again. Do you hear me? I’ll be your little mafia doctor, and you’ll stay out of my life.”
“I don’t care about the girl,” Dante said. “I only care about you, doc.”
“Good.” Gavin pushed his chair back. “Got anything else to say?”
“Just that I hope you cleaned up the body.”
Gavin grimaced. “Not yet. He’s still in my house.”
“I can take care of that.” Dante grinned. “You paid for it already.”
Gavin nodded once then turned to the door. I got up to follow, but Dante spoke before I could leave.
“Don’t get too attached,” he said, laughing. “That one’s too proud to last long.”
I stared at him, then followed Gavin onto the street. We walked away from the bakery, moving fast, until I grabbed his arm a few blocks away and made him stop.
“What the hell was that back there?”
He looked at me. “We’re leaving the city.”
“But you told him—”
“Fuck him. Fuck what he wants. I’ll leave him more cash, but we’re leaving and never looking back.”
I took a deep breath then fell into his arms again. He held me there, on a random, quiet Philly street, the brick row homes staring down at us, young kids walking past, little white dogs yapping from a nearby stoop, and I felt so relieved I could barely breathe.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, and I’m not letting them own either of us.”
“I love you too.” I looked up into his eyes and ki
ssed him. We held that kiss for a long moment.
My man, my protector, my savior. He’d done so much for me—and now there was only one last thing to do.
We broke off the kiss and I held his hand.
“Come on,” I said. “We need to go to the hospital.”
He nodded and led the way.
29
Gavin
Fiona met us down in the lobby. She looked exhausted and I figured she was at the end of her shift.
“Thanks for doing this,” I said.
She waved a hand toward me then looked at Erica. “You sure about this, sweetie?”
Erica forced a smile. “I’m sure,” she said.
“Okay then.” Fiona put her arm around Erica’s shoulders and steered her to the elevators. “You’re making the right choice. I know it’s going to be hard.”
We packed in and rode up to the third floor. Fiona had already prepped Erica’s mother, and all we had to do was remove the tube, and hope for the best.
Erica sat in a chair at the other side of the room. We don’t normally allow family in for this procedure, since things can go wrong—patients react in strange ways that can be somewhat confusing. I couldn’t ask her to stay in the hall or something like that though, because what happened next was so important to everyone.
I got to work and Fiona assisted. Removing a tube wasn’t incredibly difficult, not after the prep work was done. Erica’s feet bounced over and over again, making the legs of her chair creak, and she looked pale, even worse than she had when Cosimo died.
I forced that image from my mind. I didn’t want to think about the dead mobster in my house, about his corpse turning cold and stiff, his blood congealing and leaking into the downstairs ceiling. He deserved it, that sick fuck, and I didn’t regret killing him—but his death did make everything so much more complicated.
I didn’t want to leave Philly. I loved this city and planned on making it my home for a very long time. But there was no other choice at this point, and if I wanted to have a life with Erica, if I wanted to have any sort of existence with her at all, I had to be willing to run.
