Dr. Fake It - A Possessive Doctor Romance
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.