by Hamel, B. B.
18
Dean
She kicked me out after dinner.
I knew it was coming. As soon as I touched that scar, I knew she’d close up and push me away. Something happened to her, and I was willing to bet that whatever it was, that was the reason she constantly pushed back against anyone that tried to get too close.
It was a shame, because in those good moments between entering her apartment, kissing her, taking her, I felt like she finally opened up and was herself, up until I fucked things up.
She’d figure it out eventually. I knew I couldn’t rush it. Sooner or later, she’d open up, and we’d move past whatever held her back.
In the meantime, I still had a mafia to fight.
The next morning, I limped to work aching and fairly certain I had a broken rib after all. I’d have to get that imaged sooner or later to make sure nothing internal was fucked up, but first I wanted to get back to the real work.
Dr. Chen answered his phone on the second try. I had my feet up on my desk, reclining back in my chair, when he picked up.
“Yes, hello? Who is this?” He sounded annoyed, with a neutral accent that I couldn’t quite place.
“My name is Dr. Dean Coarse, I work in the neuro department at Mercy General,” I said. “Is this Dr. Chen?”
A short pause. “Yes, that’s me. How did you get this number, Dr. Coarse?”
“A friend of a friend.” I hesitated, trying to figure out how to put this into words. “I was hoping you might be able to help me with a problem involving a certain family.”
He let out what sounded like a long-suffering sigh. “I’m free for lunch. You’re buying.”
“Of course.”
“There’s a deli on Fifth and Washington. Meet me there at noon.”
“I’ll be there.”
He hung up the phone. I blinked for a second, then let out a little laugh. I was going to a South Philly deli with a mafia doctor, one I’d never met before, and somehow that was the least insane thing happening in my life at the moment.
I spent the rest of the morning doing rounds, and as noon approached, I ducked out and drove down south. Parking was easy, and I walked slowly down the block, noting a large empty lot covered in chicory and fireweed, the long mangy stalks sprouting like alien tree vessels. A bull thistle bush sprouted between the links and I brushed my fingers across it. The fence line led to a long block of commercial shops, with old men in tank tops sitting out front on folding chairs in the shade, young kids roaming in packs, laughing loudly, and I felt like I was swimming in the slow, languid river of the city.
The deli wasn’t hard to find. An old sign sat out front above the door proclaiming itself The Deli, not the most creative name, but fine. I stepped inside and was assaulted by the smell of meats, cheese, pickles, and fryer oil. The floor was sticky with it, and the place was packed with tables and chairs, almost all of them empty, except for one in the back corner. A large barrel sat next to the cash register, and the glass cases looked like they were fogged over from age, which was totally possible—in Philly, there were delis that had been in operations for over a hundred years.
I scanned the space and stared at a small man with gray hair sitting in the back by himself at a round table. He had sharp, dark eyes, and the tan skin of someone that spends a lot of time outdoors. He leaned toward me and nodded once, and I drifted toward him, head tilted.
“Dr. Chen?”
“You must be Dean Coarse.” He gestured. “Take a seat.”
I lingered, looking at him for a moment. He wore a rumpled white button-down shirt tucked into khakis, and as far as I could tell, he seemed all-around average, but I supposed a mafia doctor wouldn’t draw attention to himself.
I pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. “Thanks for meeting with me.”
“I have to admit, I was a little curious. I don’t get called very often to deal with civilians, but when I do, they always seem to come from your hospital.”
I hesitated and let a smile play across my face. “I guess you’re referencing Gavin.”
“That’s the one.” Dr. Chen gave me the barest of smiles in return. “I assume that’s where you got my contact information.”
“That’s right.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Alive and well, from what I know.”
“That’s good to hear. There was a time when that wasn’t so certain.” He tilted his head, the smile disappearing. “What can I do for you, Dr. Coarse?”
“I have a problem.”
His eyes flicked up to the bandage on my head then back down. “Seems as though that’s true.”
“It’s our hospital administrator. I believe she’s involved with—” I hesitated, not sure how to phrase it. “—your employers.”
“That could be true. My employers have their fingers in many pots.”
“I think she’s been laundering money for them. I can’t prove it yet, but I want to.”
“And you think I’d help you with that?” He seemed surprised and leaned forward. “Tell me why the hell I would?”
“Because you helped Gavin, which means you’re not a bad person.”
“Good and bad don’t have anything to do with it.” Dr. Chen’s eyes were cold and calm. “I’m more pragmatic than anything else.”
As I sat there looking back into his neutral expression, I realized that I’d made a huge error in judgment. I assumed Chen helped Gavin back then because Chen was a halfway decent guy and was willing to help a doctor in need—but maybe I had completely miscalculated. There could’ve been mitigating circumstances that I wasn’t aware of, and any one of those circumstances could be the reason why Chen got involved, none of which would exist now. He was right that he had no real reason to help me.
“Two men assaulted me the other day. You’re a doctor, you can’t condone that sort of thing.”
“If I didn’t condone violence, then I’d be out of the job fairly quickly.”
I grimaced. “Perhaps condone isn’t the right word.”
“Listen to me carefully, Dr. Coarse. I have no reason to help you right now, and I don’t expect I ever will—unless you give me one.”
I tilted my head and let that sink in. “I can pay.”
“Now I’m listening.”
“I need to know what they have on my hospital admin, and what they’ve been doing. I need proof, Dr. Chen, or else Maria is going to keep trying to roll over me.”
He leaned back. “She knows you’re looking into her?”
I nodded. “I believe she’s the one that sent the goons after me to begin with.”
“You might be right. I’ve never met a hospital administrator that wasn’t also a killer at heart.”
“You’d like Maria then.”
He watched me thoughtfully for a moment. “I’m not sure I can give you what you want,” he admitted. “I have access, but not that much access.”
“Then I’m not sure what I’d pay you for.”
“I’ll make a suggestion then. You need proof that the hospital administrator is laundering money, correct?”
“We stole documents from Maria’s office, but found nothing conclusive.”
“Then you need to go after the accountants.” He tapped a finger on the table. “It’s always the accountants.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of that yet—but of course the hospital kept meticulous records of every dollar in and every dollar out, and whatever accounting firm did the hospital’s taxes would have records of it all.
“Seems like you helped me more than you planned, Dr. Chen.”
He smiled, cold and vicious. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. I’ll let you have this one for free, but I’m going to want a favor in return.”
“What favor?”
“Any favor I desire.” He crossed his arms. “Think of it like The Godfather. You’ve seen that movie?”
“Of course. I didn’t think the mafia actuall
y worked that way.”
“It most certainly does. There’s nothing better than being able to demand any sort of payment you desire at any given date.” His smile got larger. “One day, I’ll demand payment from you, and you’ll give it to me.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” I pushed back from the table.
He slapped a palm down. The men behind the counters didn’t so much as look over, and Chen’s eyes went cold and terrible again.
“One day, and that day may never come, but I will ask you for something, and you will give it to me. Do you understand?”
I met his gaze and nodded once. “I understand.”
“Good.” He sat back. “I’ll see what I can dig up on my end. Perhaps I can at least get them to back off for the time being. I believe the man you’re ultimately dealing with is named Steven, and he’s one of the more reasonable capos in the city, believe it or not.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Don’t mistake being reasonable for being soft. Steven will gladly kill you if you prove to be a nuisance, which you already are. Fly low, Dr. Coarse, and keep your head down. I suspect you’ll deal with his men again sooner or later.”
I nodded to him then turned and left the deli. I felt eyes on me as I stepped into the street, and for one wild second I thought the whole city was alive with spies, staring at me, watching me and judging every movement I made, ready to jump out of the shadows, ready to come cut my throat.
It was paranoia, I knew, but not without reason. The city was in debt to these mobsters, and now I was in debt to their doctor.
I walked back to the car, got in, and drove back slowly, keeping an eye on my rearview mirror, watching to see if I was being followed, but finding nothing.
19
Fiona
The more I thought about Dean’s hands on my skin, the more I wanted it—and the more it scared the hell out of me.
His curiosity made me want to push him away, but it also made me want to embrace him. He touched my scar and didn’t act like I was disfigured. If anything, he seemed like he thought it was beautiful, and wanted to know more, wanted to touch it more. His fingers lingering on my skin sent shivers down my spine, and I knew I’d want more, I’d want so much more sooner or later. I couldn’t hold back, not forever.
Unless I did something about it.
He found me in the hospital a day later, sitting behind the nurses’ station. Mary was in a patient room and I was trying to pretend that I wasn’t exhausted, emotionally and physically, when he leaned up against the desk and smiled at me.
“How’s your day going?” he asked.
I shrugged, playing it cool, even though my heart raced whenever he came around.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Are you sure you want to stand here talking to me? There’s going to be gossip.”
He laughed. “There’s already gossip. But, uh, we have to talk about something. Is there a private spot nearby?”
I hesitated the nodded and stood. I found Mary, told her I was ducking out for a second, then took Dean down the hall and into an empty room. He shut the door, pulled the privacy screen, and faced me.
“What’s going on?” I asked when I saw the look on his face.
“I met with Dr. Chen.”
I sucked in a breath. “What happened?”
“He gave me an idea for what we should do next.”
“He helped you, just like that?”
He paused then shook his head. “I owe him a favor now.”
I groaned. “So you’re involved with the mob.”
“Something like that. I’m not sure he’s technically in their family. More like a contractor.”
“That’s so much better.”
“Do you want to know the plan or not?”
I turned away and paced across the room, head spinning. I had so much I wanted to say to him, and most of it had nothing to do with the mafia and our little predicament. Still, that was the biggest problem we faced at the moment, and so I gestured. “Tell me,” I said.
“Accountants.” He held his chin up. “We’re going after the accountants.”
“Sounds exciting.”
He laughed. “Think about it. We need documentation that money’s going missing, right? The accountants will have it.”
“Dean, stop, this is insane. You want to break into their office? That has to be too far, even for you.”
“We have no choice.” He stepped closer. I stepped back, like we were doing some new dance. “The mob’s going to keep coming after us no matter what we do at this point. Our only hope is to discredit Maria, get her fired, and make it so that the family can’t come after us.”
“And you think you can do that by ruining their plans?”
His eyes narrowed. “I think that’s our only chance.”
“Come on, Dean, this is insane. You have to know that.”
“What’s wrong? You seem tense.”
I stopped pacing and faced him, arms down at my sides, hands curled into fists. I stared at him for a second, trying to understand how he could even say that—of course I was tense, this whole situation was tense and stressful. It felt like my life hung in the balance every second of every day and I didn’t know how to handle that.
“I’m not sure I can do this.” The words came out softer than I expected, and I felt tears in my eyes.
I couldn’t cry, not right now. I had to be strong if I was going to pull this off. If I cried, it would ruin everything, and I couldn’t afford to fail right now.
“If you need to back down—”
“You want something that I can’t ever give you, okay?”
He looked confused, head tilted. “I’m sorry, Fiona, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on.” I threw up my hands. “You saw the scar. You said you want a family. You want the truth about me?”
“Of course I do,” he said softly. “But I wasn’t going to press.”
“I can’t have children.”
I felt the words come out of my mouth like hot lava. I turned my back on him and paced to the window, heart racing, head dizzy. I stared outside and realized that I hadn’t told anyone about the accident or my condition in a very long time, and saying the words out loud was a bigger struggle than I had anticipated.
“Fiona,” he said softly, but I shook my head hard.
“It’s fine, okay? I’ve known for a long time, and now you know, too. I can’t have kids, which means I can’t ever give you a family. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth, and so we don’t have to keep playing this game.”
“I don’t care about that.” He stepped toward me and I turned to face him, so angry I could barely see straight.
“How can you even say that? You told me the other night you want a family, and now I’m telling you that’s not possible with me. Think about this for one second. Maybe you’re having fun with me right now, but what about five years from now? Ten years? I’ll never be able to give you children, no matter what we do. I’m broken, Dean.”
“You’re not broken.” His eyes were wide and I could tell he was struggling with what to say. I hated this, hated it so much. I felt disgusting and exposed, and I wrapped my arms around myself like I was trying to hug my guts back inside.
He’d say the right things, and in the end, it wouldn’t matter. This was why I never got involved with men, because in the end it never mattered, never changed a thing. I was broken, couldn’t have children, and never would, and I hated myself for it, and hated the world for making me this way. I didn’t want his pity, or his confusion or his anger, or anything at all.
I just wanted to be left alone.
“You don’t have to do anything, okay? We can be done. We’ll figure out the mafia thing, but after that—”
“We’re not done.” His tone was almost harsh, and it made me pause, at least for a moment. “We’re far from done. You think I want you for children? I don’t give a damn about children. You’re not broken, Fiona. I don’t wan
t children, I want you, all of you, exactly the way you are. So what if you can’t have kids? That made you who are you today, and that’s the girl I want.”
I chewed my lip, heart racing, as he came closer again. That was the right thing to say, damn it, the exact right thing. I wanted to kiss him, to throw myself at him and let him have me, all of me, exactly the way I was: broken, shattered, partial.
But instead, I stepped away from him and went around, walking fast to the door. He turned and watched me go, confusion and sadness and hurt flickering through his expression. I pushed aside the privacy screen, its metal rings making a steel scrape along the ceiling bar, then lingered as I looked back.
“It’s not about you, okay?” I wanted him to understand, but I knew he couldn’t. “It’s about me, and what I am, and I just— I can’t get involved. The other night was fun, and I had a really good time, I just can’t go down that road.”
His face hardened then, his lips turning into a tense smile. “Whatever you say.”
“Good.” I slid open the door. “Thank you for that conversation, Dr. Coarse. We’ll talk later about your plan.”
He grunted as I stepped out and let the door slide shut behind me. I walked fast away from the room, but not back to the nurses’ station. I headed for a bathroom I knew would be empty, ducked inside, locked the door, sat on top of the toilet seat, and finally let myself cry.
I felt pathetic and weak. I hated myself for doing this, for ending things with a man I really liked, but also for crying about it, and for letting it get to this point. I was supposed to be better than that, able to rise above petty shit and stupid feelings, but clearly I wasn’t. Even after telling him I didn’t want to be involved, I still wanted him, still wanted him bad, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
I stayed there for a few minutes, then got up and got myself together. I couldn’t let Mary see me like this, so I washed my face and waited a little while for my eyes to stop being quite so red. I walked slowly back to the station and slumped back down in my chair.
