I Accidentally Saved a Mafia Boss

Michael’s Pov “When are you going to come to visit us, sweetie?” my mom whined into the phone. I groaned under my breath as my pager went off for the second time that morning. Great. I hadn't even had coffee yet. I dragged my hand through my messy curls while staring at my exhausted reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Mom, you know I’m busy. I promise to make time at the end of this month or next month, okay? I have to run,” I said quickly, and I could practically see her pouting in my mind. “Okay, my love. Just know your father and I are so proud of you! Call me when you can.” I responded with a quick “I love you,” ended the call, and bolted out of the bathroom as I pulled on my white coat. I was the baby of three children, and my two older sisters were always busy and working, so my parents found joy in calling me to chat… knowing I couldn’t say no or ignore their calls even when I was swamped. 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 hospital is beautiful, and 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!” Dr. Keanu. I gulped softly as I quickly approached his office and pushed. “I’m s-sorry, Dr. Keanu,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady, and he shook his head. “Sorry doesn't fix incompetence, Michael.” Dr. Keanu didn't raise his voice as he spoke and somehow that made it worse. "Do you have any idea how understaffed we are right now? This isn't the time to be slacking off." Dr. Keanu was a very intimidating man: tall, with broad shoulders and a scowl that could send someone flying through the window. 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 help. “I-I know, I was just—” “Save it. Give me the report of the patient records and details you took earlier,” he said, stretching his hand towards me. “I’ll go find a doctor who isn't slow.” I grabbed my notepad from my back pocket and he snatched it without a second thought. “Get out of the way, Michael!” He snapped. I bit my bottom lip to keep my tears at bay. There was no way I was going to cry. Think happy thoughts, Mikey. I sucked in a breath and exhaled. Since there was nothing left for me to do, I decided to go home. The distance to my apartment is about ten minutes by car, but I prefer to walk the half hour and clear my head. It helps that the seaside is on the way and I can get lost in its beauty. It’s violent today, considering how the giant waves crash against the rocks. So I pull out my AirPods and put on a classical rendition of Wanna be yours by Arctic Monkeys on the highest volume. Usually, the walk home helped me clear my head. But tonight, it made me feel watched. The streets near the seaside were unusually empty tonight but I felt a gaze boring into my back. I attempted running but that could make things worse so I tried quickening. I was about to take a sharp right when a larger-than-life presence appeared in front of me. My breath got caught in my throat when I looked up. The stranger in front of me stood at 6 feet and sported a black shirt that stretched across his chest. His hair fell across his handsome face and his lips were curled in a smile. “W … who are you?” I managed through chattering teeth as I took out my AirPods. “Your friendly neighbour guy.” He flashed me a smile. Okay. That's a big fat lie. I gulped nervously as I took a step back. “What do you want?” “What I want is simple,” He said. “I'm looking for someone.” “Who?” I swallowed. “Him.” He reached into his pocket and showed me a picture. My eyes dropped to the photo and my heart slowed a fraction of a beat. He had dark hair and green eyes. A thin scar slashed through his left eyebrow and a hint of a tattoo peeking out from both sleeves of his shirt. I’ve seen this man before but where? “You know him?” The stranger mused. I lifted my gaze to meet his. “No, I don't.” “Are you lying?” He stepped forward, towering over me now. “Why would I? I don't have anything to hide.” I forced steadiness into my voice as I stared back at him. “Hmmm.” His smirk returned and he passed me a white business card. “Here's my card. If you see him, call me immediately.” “Okay.” I nodded. He gave me a light pat on the cheek and walked the other way. A gasp escaped me and I began to run. I didn't stop running till I got to the house. The second I arrived, I made a beeline to my room. I couldn't bother with my roommates. We'll talk in the morning. Right now, I need some time alone. I peeled off my jacket and sank to my bed. The picture in the man's hand flashed in my head. How did he get that photo? Why was he even looking for…? I froze when I heard a low thud coming from downstairs. I jolted to my feet when the sound came again. “Ethan?” I called one of my roommates. There was no response. “Jason?” I called his brother's name and still no response. My hand found a club I always kept under my bed and I crept downstairs. I hadn't realized the house was empty until I reached the small living room. Don't tell me those jerks ran off to another party again. I tightened my grip around the bat and lifted it. “Who's… who's there?” Of course the intruder wouldn't respond. What was I thinking even asking them that? I waited for a heartbeat and got nothing. “That settles it,” I tiptoed to the front door and locked it and no, I didn't open it to see if anyone was outside. I'm not stupid. After making sure the house was secure, I made my way upstairs to my room. I threw the bat aside and sighed. I need to shower and sleep. I took off my shirt and trousers and walked to the bathroom in my underwear. When I turned on the lights, I screamed. There was a body in my bathtub. “Help… help me.” The man in the tub wheezed silently. “Who the hell are you?!” I screamed again. “Help me…” he lifted his head and my jaws dropped. This was the guy in the photo. The one that scary dude was looking for. Oh my God. Blood spilled from his lips and I gasped. The medical student in me floated to the surface but I shook my head. No. Absolutely not. This man was dangerous. Someone was hunting him and I should call the police. Instead, I dropped to my knees beside him. “s**t. Where are you hurt?” I rushed to the tub to help him out. His response was so weak I almost didn't hear it. “Sir… I need you to take off your jacket so I'll see where you're hurt.” I said as I carried him to sit in the tub. He didn't move. His unfocused eyes narrowed at me instead. "Who sent you?" He rasped. When I didn't respond, his hand suddenly grabbed my wrist and fear shot through me instantly. Even half-dead, this man was terrifying. "Nobody sent me!" I held up both hands in midair. He let out a weak groan and slumped forward. I was quick to grab him. "Hey, stay with me!" I snapped, patting his cheek. With one arm, I held him and with the other, I peeled off his shirt. When it came off him, I swallowed a shocked gasp. His body was covered in scars and injuries, the kind normal people don't survive. Old bullet wounds and knife marks. My thoughts were cut off when my gaze landed on the bullet hole in his shirt. “You’ve been shot!” I exclaimed. “s**t!” I raced downstairs to fetch my first aid kit and any supplies that could take out a bullet. I grabbed a bottle of saline, a syringe, tweezers, and a suture with string. God, what am I doing? I could get in so much trouble! This is definitely against the hospital’s policies and strict violations of HIPAA. I returned to my bedroom, my hands shaking as I pulled on my gloves. “I’ve only done this once on a real person,” I whispered to him and by one person, I meant a dummy. I began to pray in Italian as I injected the numbing agent into his arm. Surprisingly, he didn’t wince at all. Once it settled, I slowly worked on extracting the bullet. Thankfully, it was small, and once I removed it, I couldn’t help but smile as there were no visible leftover fragments, and the wound didn’t look too severe. I wanted to warn him that an X-ray or CAT scan would be beneficial to make sure the fragments were actually all gone... but something told me he wouldn’t want to listen. Soon, I began to stitch his skin, and he sat silently, watching me slowly suture his wound and place stitches. When I was done, I helped him to my bed and made him lie down. Then, I cleaned up my bathroom. A few seconds later, I realized what I'd done. I stared at his sleeping form on my bed and dragged my hand through my hair. What the hell do I do with him now? Should I call the police? But what about the man after him? Ugh! My phone buzzed and I reached for it. Thankfully, it was my best friend, Diane. “Thank God it's you, Diane.” I sighed. “I just called to say hi.” She said cheerfully. When I didn't respond, her tone grew worried. “Mike, is something wrong?” I stared at the guy in my bed and sighed. What do I even say? After fighting a temptation within me, I sighed. “Nothing. It's just me in the house again.” I lied. “Aww. Don't worry. You'll move to your own place soon.” she said. Diane's right. I will be leaving this house soon. My late grandmother passed her tiny duplex to me in her will while she gave her red convertible and a few other items to my mom and my sister. At least if I move, I'll have peace of mind for the first time since I got here but… when I looked at him, I wondered what would happen to him. “Are you there?” Diane's question pulled me from my thoughts. “Yeah. I'm just tired. I'll see you tomorrow.” I faked a yawn. “Sure. ‘Night.” she said. “Goodnight.” I ended the call and tossed my phone aside. I should've told Diane what was going on. Hell, I should've called the police. I, of all people, knew that. But instead, I let a wanted criminal sleep in my bed while I sat beside him. Now, I don't know if I did the right thing by saving his life or if I just made mine worse.