The Biker's Doctor

Chapter Six

I walked down the main Palm Drive that led through the famous Oval of the university campus. An incredible feat of gardening with perfectly manicured grass surrounding the famous oval hedge design in the middle, with the emblem of Stanford. That emblem had changed nearly every quarter since my arrival, as if secret elves came in at night to magically modify the meticulous design to represent something currently headlining the University News.

Only a handful of students were heading towards the Library, which was open 24/7, when close to exams. My small light green Porsche was parked waiting for me at the edge of the campus in the midnight cold. I threw my black bag into the back of the compact vehicle and then slid into the driver's seat.

This used Porsche was the first thing I bought with my inheritance. I hadn't touched the money left by Eliza when my father was alive. I am an adult now, and after my father’s death, I needed to start making more decisions about that money just sitting in my bank account. I didn't often spend money on myself, but I needed a car to commute from my apartment in Menlo Park, so I drew on funds to meet that need. I viewed the purchase as an homage to Eliza, and her money was going towards something I needed for University.

The Porsche was just over five years old. It’s not like I was going to waste money on the hefty price tag of a brand-new model. Second-hand was just fine by me, and it got me where I needed to go. I think I cared more about its green colour when I chose it, because that was my favourite colour and matched my eyes.

I turned on the impressive growl of the engine and started the familiar drive to my apartment complex. The streets were largely empty, given it was nearly midnight on a weeknight. It was only a seven-minute drive to the suburb I lived in. I am thrilled I live so close on late study nights like this. The last thing I feel like is a long drive home. All I want to do is get home and go over the day a bit before a good night’s sleep.

I parked my Porsche in my apartment's designated parking spot and grabbed my bag. I was fighting back a yawn as I got out of the car. I started making my way up the stairs to the second and top floors of the complex.

As I approached the door leading to the stairs, I saw a man getting out of a Lexus, just as dark as his black suit jacket and deep blue denim jeans. He had just parked in the visitor slot of the small car park. He noted me over his shoulder as he locked his Lexus with a beep and started heading towards the door to the stairs just behind me.

I couldn't see what he looked like at such a distance, given how dark the unlit car park was. All I could tell was that he was of a rather slender build, with black, straight hair pulled into a ponytail. He looked like he was about to attend a meeting with a lawyer. That could not be the case, given the time.

I saw the Lexus's lights blink and beep, and it locked. This rather exclusive apartment complex was only two stories, with two apartments per story. I knew most of the faces that came and went. Older couples occupied the two bottom floors, and their middle-aged children and grandchildren often visited. The two apartments on the second floor belonged to me, a single female student, and to another single man, Brian Stone, who had moved in a few months earlier. This was by far someone I did not recognise as having been here before.

It was just past midnight. Who came to visit someone at this late hour?

That was none of my business.

It has been a long day. I am going to pour myself a nice, rich glass of red wine and curl up on the couch with my dog, Lucifer. I like to enjoy a glass of wine and go over my day in my mind so I can sleep well at night. It’s the best tactic I have to manage stress. And with my final exam so close, stress is most definitely an unhealthy factor in my life right now.

Lucifer was a stunning example of an Irish Setter with flaming red hair that matched my own. If dogs looked like their owners, I would be proud to have the same wild features as Lucifer. Too bad he was a complete troublemaker. I came home often enough to find him having eaten some part of my furniture, a shoe, or worse, something from the kitchen cupboard that he should not have.

I did not mind Lucifer tearing apart my things. He could be as untamed as he liked. I was not up to disciplining him in training. I liked how tempestuous he was. He listened to me when I needed him to, and that was the most important thing. He was especially good at scaring off men who thought that they could hit on me when I took him through Golden Gate Park up in the city, about an hour’s drive from where I lived. He didn’t like anyone, men or women, coming up to us that he did not know. He barked a bit like a rabid dog.

Anyone who tried to approach me with any intended pleasant conversation was not going to be welcomed by Lucifer. A man in an army uniform was not brave enough to stick around for that kind of reception. The exact type of dog I needed and loved to have with me as often as I could.

In fact, I think he only liked my aunt Elenora, although she did not reciprocate the feelings. He always made a giant bounding leap toward her the second she was in his line of sight, which scared her enough to scream like a banshee. She was utterly terrified of his size and weight. I could not help but laugh at her reaction, knowing he was not going to hurt her at all. His bad traits were no match for how good a dog he was and how much of a companion he was to me.

I reached the stairs first and was intent on moving fast up them to leave a reasonable distance between myself and the unknown stranger. I liked getting my steps up. Why ride when you can walk?

Even given how tired I am, I quickly make it to the second-floor landing and turn towards my apartment on the left.

I need to be awake for a 9 am lecture on revision of Pharmacology, followed by one on Advanced Biochemistry, and then back to the lab with the male Cadaver. This point of the semester focused on revision for our final exams. I was feeling the pressure, just like everyone else, but I think I will be fine. I rank among the top three students in almost all my subjects. I might be nervous about the exam, but on the day, I know I will be as prepared as possible.

Oh, what fun to look forward to with revision, though.

Six hours of sleep should be enough to march on tomorrow, as long as Lucifer does not wake me up at 4 am, as he likes to do with his big clawed paws on any visible part of flesh that he can find in my bed to pounce, scratch or lick me awake.

I moved to my door. The beautiful cedar with cast black iron hinges alluded to the wealth of the lavishly furnished apartment beyond. Just like the Porsche downstairs, I could afford to live on my own in this lovely apartment, which was conveniently close to the main campus of Stanford.

I would have been fine not spending the money to live here, instead choosing a dorm on campus. But my father had surprised me, purchasing this apartment for me as a gift when I was accepted to Stanford Medical School. It may have been another expense I didn’t need, but he considered it necessary for both my comfort and proximity to the university for attending classes. I was simply happy that it had a great backyard for Lucifer, even if that was a shared space with the other residents here.

I heard the subtle ding of the doorbell to Brian's apartment down the corridor. The man from Lexus was located on the same floor as my apartment. Well, he was not here to visit me, and that left only one alternative: my loud but gorgeous neighbour, Brian Stone.

My neighbour Brian was attractive, alright, and he knew it. He was in his late twenties — about twenty-eight — and I was turning twenty-two. He was consistently well-groomed and exquisitely dressed. He was always out early for a run, with his routine earplugs and jogging gear, maintaining his rather perfect-to-imagine masculine body. Later in the day, I often spotted him in perfectly matching ensembles of costly suits and dinner jackets. The Armani and Gucci labels were a far cry from what I would wear.

After he moved in, it took him all of three days to ask me out on a date. I am sure that many women would have said yes, and no doubt there was a black book of them, complete with pages somewhere for him.

But I was not interested in any notion of a romantic fling or even a relationship in general. And I most definitely did not want to complicate a relationship with a neighbour. That carried the risk that if things did not work out, we would become enemies. Having a neighbour who was an enemy or vindictive due to a soured relationship was not a logical risk.

Brian was amiable toward me after I declined his invitation to a date. Our day-to-day communication was a polite 'hello', 'how was your day?', and at most a brief discussion of the weather. A man I would have thought was arrogant because of the way he held himself was actually a decent-seeming human being. Come to think of it, I had no idea what he actually did for work. I can only surmise that he is successful, since he can afford the top floor of the same tasteful complex where I reside. Not a minor value.

The stranger was being let into the apartment. I glimpsed Brian's extended arm, sporting a Rolex, as he entered the hallway with his familiar, welcoming voice. The same feeling that I had when I saw them exit the Lexus in the car park came back to me.

It was late. Just past midnight. Odd time to have visitors, Brian.

Strangely, the man took his glance down the corridor at me as I placed the key in my apartment lock. Our eyes met, and I felt my stomach drop with a sense of immediate fear. Dark brown, nearly black, sullen eyes in a pale white skull were devoid of emotion or, dare I say it, any indication of kindness at all.

I felt needles pass over my neck. It was not a pleasant feeling at all.

I quickly entered my place as the frightening individual stepped into Brian's apartment with what appeared to be a warm welcome.

I shut my door nearly with a fumbled slam and locked it. Why should I feel like I was in danger?

I must be tired, that’s all.

And again, visitors this late are none of my business.

I hope that the duo isn't about to be loud next door.

I need my sleep and do not want to listen to two men drinking into the night.