MY MAFIA PATIENT

“When are you going to come visit us, sweetie?” Mom whined into the phone and I groaned because, of course, my pager buzzed agin while I was trying to fix my stupid curls. It wasn’t like anything was wrong, but the doctor was waiting and here I was, trying to get mom off my back, which probably sounds mean but whatever. And I didn’t even get my morning coffee because I’m already late. “Mom, you know I’m busy. I’ll try to come at the end of the month or next month, okay? I have to go now.” I said it fast, probably sounded harsh, and I swear I could see her pouting through the phone. “Okay, my love. Just know your father and I are proud of you! Call me when you can.” “I love you.” Click. I bolted out of the bathroom and yanked on my white coat. Being the youngest of three in the family was.. fun? I guess. My sisters are always working so my parents basically ignore them and then bother me instead. Can’t say no, ever. I’m currently in my third year of medical school, and this month, I’m facing my clinical in Emergency Medicine. I admit that the nurses and staff are very helpful, but the doctor I am working with seems to get up on the wrong side of the bed every morning. Some of the other doctors are very nice, and I envy my med-school classmates who are working with them. But for now, I have to just suck it up and deal with— “Michael!” Shit. I gulped and ran to his office. “S-sorry, Dr. Keanu.” I said immediately I walked, trying not to look like a total i***t. He didn’t care. “Sorry isn’t gonna cut it. Do you know how many patients are waiting? How short-staffed we are?!” He yelled and I just.. bit my lip. Fuck him. But I couldn’t deny he was a very intimidating man: tall, with broad shoulders, your typical villain build. I was happy to be given more tasks as a med student, but it felt overwhelming at times since I didn’t have all the answers or know most of the procedures without asking for his fhelp. “I—I know, I was just—” “Save it. Give me the patient records from earlier.” I dug out my notepad but he snatched it from me immediately. “Get out of the way, Michael!” Breathe in. Breathe out. With nothing left to do. I decided it was time to go home. Car ride? Ten minutes. Walk? Thirty. I like walking anyways. It clears my head especially if there’s a seaside on the way, the waves are insane today, like angry giants hitting rocks. I placed my AirPods in and tuned in my favorite classical version of Wanna Be Yours, I focused on the music and instantly felt better as walked some blocks down. Until a giant presence appeared in front of me. I halted in my tracks and then I looked up, and my breath got stuck in my throat immediately I did. The guy in front of me.. was huge. Like, six feet tall at least, with a black shirt stretched across his chest, hair falling over his face, lips curled into a smile that made me instantly suspicious. “Who.. are you?” I frowned, stepping back a little. “Your friendly neighbor guy.” He returned my smile. Right. Big fat lie. “What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice steadier than I felt. “What I want is simple.” He responded. “I’m looking for someone.” “Who?” I eyed him. “Him.” He pulled a photo from his pocket. My eyes fell on it and my hear instantly did a weird little flop. In the picture were a pair of green eyes, dark hair, jawline so sharp it looked carved, scar through the left eyebrow, tattoos just peeking from his sleeves. I’ve seen him before, somewhere.. but where? “You know him?” The stranger asked probably noticing the look on my face, I instantly shook my head and stepped back. “No.. I don’t.” I lifted my gaze to his, trying not to look like I was panicking. “Are you lying?” He stepped closer. “Why would I lie? I.. I don’t know him.” I forced my voice steady, even as my knees felt wobbly. He smirked then fished out something and handed me a white business card. “Here. If you see him, call me immediately.” “O.. okay.” I nodded, because what else was there to do? Then he did the absolute weirdest thing–he lightly patted my cheek and just.. walked off. What. The. f**k? I finally ended up taking a bus home. Once I reached my apartment I didn’t care about my roommates, didn’t even look up from staring at the street. As soon as I got to my room, I peeled off my jacket and collapsed on the bed, the photo in that man’s hand and kept flashing in my head. How did he even get that? Who was he looking for? A low thud downstairs suddenly made me jump. “Ethan?” I called, voice a little shaky but there was no answer. “Jason?” Same. There was nothing. My hand automatically found the bat I kept under the bed before I began creeping downstairs, and once I did, I realized the house was.. empty. Again. Those jerks had probably gone to a party or something. I tightened my grip. “Who’s.. who’s there?” Of course, no one answered. Why would an intruder answer? I tiptoed to the front door, locked it, and no—I was not checking outside. Not stupid enough for that. Once I figured the house was secured, I hurried back upstairs. I threw the bat aside and sighed, I needed to shower and then sleep. I walked to the bathroom in my underwear, turned on the lights, and scream from my throat was what came next. There was a f*****g man in my bathtub! “Help.. help me.” He wheezed, barely even audible. “Who the hell are you?!” I screamed again. “Help me..” He lifted his head and holy s**t! That was the guy in the photo. The one the stranger was hunting. I looked around my own bathtub and blood was everywhere. “Where.. where are you hurt?” I rushed to him. “Sir take off your jacket..” I said but then I decided to help him. I mean, come on, he barely had the strength to talk. I helped him shrug off the jacket slowly, and my eyes went wide instantly. Blood was on his shoulder, and there was a hole in his shirt.. it was a bullet. “You’ve been shot!” I exclaimed, panic rising. I grabbed the first aid kit, shaking. Saline, syringe, tweezers, suture—what the hell was I doing? This was.. illegal. Absolutely against every hospital rule. But still I slipped my gloves on. I’ve only done this once.. on a dummy. I prayed in Italian while numbing his arm. Surprisingly, he didn’t flinch. Slowly, I worked the bullet out and I stitched him up and he watched silently like a rock. Soon I helped him to my bed and cleaned up the bathroom. Finally, I sat there, staring at him, hand in my hair. What the hell do I do now? Who the hell was this man? Should I call the cops? My phone suddenly rang, and seeing who was calling, I sighed in relief. It was Diane. “Mike! Hi! What’s up?” She chirped. I froze. How do you even explain this? I sighed. “Nothing.. just me in the house again.” “Aww, you’ll move soon to your own place.” Right. My grandma’s tiny duplex. Peace at last.. maybe. I looked at him again and wondered f he was any danger, if danger was still coming, if I’d just screwed myself completely. “Yeah.. I’m sorta tired. Talk tomorrow.” I said, faking a yawn. “Night!” Diane chirped before ending the call. I should've told her what was going on. But I couldn't risk it, not when the stranger on my bed was still unconscious and I didn't know whether he was running from danger or bringing it with him. I ran my fingers through my hair. This was not happening.