Doctor Feelgood: (A Bad Boy Doctor Novel)

by Weston Parker

  Marco started to respond, and I stepped in. "I'll take him for an hour, and then we'll be back at the house. Your father and sister are motioning for you to join them. Tell them that Freddy and I are going to grab a few things at the store and then we'll be back at the mansion, got it?"

  I stood a good foot over Marco and Freddy. My height and size was something I was more than happy to use to my advantage.

  "Fine, but only an hour." Marco looked between us and then turned on his heel and walked off.

  Freddy stood stone still and spoke when Marco was out of earshot. "What's his fucking problem? It's almost like he doesn't want us finding Mama’s killer. What the hell?"

  I put my hand on Freddy's shoulder and walked toward the long black Cadillac that awaited us at the back of the funeral procession. "I don't think it's that at all. I just think he wants everyone together, which isn't too much to ask."

  "Then why'd you front him?"

  I rolled my eyes. "I didn't front him. I simply told him that I wanted to check things out, and taking you with me would be a good time to confront you."

  Freddy stopped before reaching the car, a look of confusion sweeping over his face. "Confront me on what exactly?"

  I slid my tight grip up from Freddy's shoulder to the side of his neck, pinching a little and moving the punk-ass toward the car. "On you not doing your job right and how bad I'm going to fuck up your life if you don't start."

  Chapter 3

  Izabella

  "I'm sorry you have to suffer this today, baby girl." My father's arms were warm, comforting, healing.

  "I'm sorry too, Daddy." I glanced up at him and pressed my teeth into my bottom lip. I'd cried twice in my life, and I didn't plan on doing it again. Once was the night Demetri put up boundaries in our young relationship, and the second time was this morning for my beautiful mother. She was the only warmth in our large fortress, the only soft place to land. And now she was gone, and I was alone.

  "I shouldn't have let her go alone that day. I felt something in the pit of my stomach that told me not to let her, and I ignored it. I hate myself right now." His voice was nothing more than a whisper as his eyes filled with tears. "We'll get through this together though, right?"

  The mountain of a man before me was soon to crumble under the weight of his devastation. I had to get him home and spare him the public audience for his fall.

  "Yes, Dad. We will get through it. We'll all rally around you like we always do, and vengeance will be mine." I touched the side of his face and let out a painful sigh.

  "Ours." He gave a smile that seemed forced.

  "Mine." I pressed a kiss to his cheek and moved back to see Demetri talking with my brothers. My eyes moved over the broad line of his shoulders as I tried to stifle thoughts of him holding me that morning. I hadn't meant to break down, but in the midst of him losing his own mother, it was just too much.

  His words were kind, his hands strong, his lips so damn soft in my bedroom. I'd wanted so badly to take advantage of him lowering the wall between us a little. I needed to slide between the momentary crack in the structure that kept us at arm’s length and reach for him as a woman might a man.

  "Are you coming home with us?" My father moved away from me and lifted his fist to his mouth as he coughed a few times.

  "Of course." I offered him my hand and tucked myself against his side as we walked toward the cars, ignoring the boys. They would catch up a few minutes later.

  "Joe. Hey, buddy. I'm so sorry for your loss. We'll be digging into this case deeply for you. I'm going to get Jonathan to pull the files, and if you need any insight or need anything — " Armstrong Kelley was one of my father's closest friends, and a retired captain for the police force. His son, Jonathan, was a detective on the force, and a damn good one. If only we could get Armstrong to pull Jonathan to our side — but Jon seemed to be a very different man from his father.

  I glanced over my shoulder to watch D tug my little brother toward his car instead of coming with us. Demetri was a man of very little patience and a large personality that demanded attention. He had been in my life for as long as I could remember, and there wasn't a time when I didn't long for him to be so much more than a partner in crime. He was every wet dream I'd ever had. Tall, dark and handsome was what the girls in college used to say, but he was so much more than that. His dark features only accented his dominate alpha male persona.

  More than anything, I loved to press up against his will and make him sweat at the idea that I had the power to bend it.

  Marco walked over and stood beside me and wrapped an arm over my shoulders. "You know you two will be married one day."

  "Fuck you," I mumbled and continued to watch D and Freddy.

  "Be as pissy as you'd like about it, but Mother was right. You were made for each other. We'll just see which of you finally decides that being lonely is a game best played in one’s youth." He turned and kissed the side of my head. "I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

  I shifted a little and wrapped my arms around my brother's waist. "Yeah, I know. I'm here for you too."

  "I'm still in shock, I think." He rubbed my shoulder softly. "The last thing Mom told me was to make sure I called the bakery and had them spell Castaletta right for Dad's cake."

  He snorted, and I swallowed my need to cry again. Not happening.

  "It's not a common name, is it?" I glanced up at my brother and smiled. He looked so much like our mother with his dark features. His jet-black hair was from Mama’s side of the family, but his soulless eyes came from Daddy all the way.

  "What are you looking at me like that for?" He tapped his finger on the tip of my nose and smiled down at me.

  Marco. The one forever wanting to save us all from ourselves.

  "I like the mustache and the little beard under your chin, but what is this?" I reached up and pinched the small patch of black hair that sat under his lip.

  He yelped and jerked away from me as I laughed, unable to help myself.

  "Damn. That hurt like fire. You unruly witch." He reached for me and wrapped me back into a tight hug. "I'm going to get you back for that."

  "Oh yeah?" I lifted an eyebrow and reached for it again.

  "Stop it." He swatted at me and moved back, rubbing his lip and giving me a dark look that promised retribution. "I'll tell Demetri you love him."

  "He knows." I shrugged and turned to watch Demetri pop Freddy in the back of the head. "How could I not love him? He takes care of Daddy and runs our operation with an intensity that says he's all in."

  "You love him because he's a good-looking man."

  "And he has a fat cock." I shrugged and popped my brother in the chest as he turned and stuck his finger in this mouth, gagging himself. "Come on. Let's get Dad home."

  "Yes. And don't ever say another word to me about Demetri. I won’t be able to look at him the same."

  "Are you jealous of his assets?" I glanced behind me as my brother rolled his eyes.

  "Not in a million years. A tool that is often used is far better than a bejeweled one that never sees the light of day."

  I didn't grant him a response. Besides, he was enjoying himself far too much judging by his low snickers.

  "Where's Freddy?" My father asked as he held the door to the car open for us.

  I shrugged and climbed into the back seat of the Buick stretch limo first and slid over, making room for Marco.

  He reached over and helped me work my shoulders out of my heavy winter coat as Father climbed in and sat across from us.

  "He's with D. They're stopping by the store and then coming to the house. Freddy needs a break from everything, you know?" Marco spoke, pulling on his seatbelt and looking over at me, his eyebrow going up.

  I rolled my eyes and pulled on my seatbelt as well, grumbling about the uselessness of them. Being strapped in a metal box while it rolled around was the most unethical decision made by the government. I'd have forgone mine, but my father would have given me hell over
it.

  "Freddy always seems to need a break. When is that damned boy going to grow up?" Dad's face was worn and ragged from emotion as he dragged his hand down the front of it.

  "Hey, Dad, lay off of him today, all right? It's just going to cause a lot of drama you don't want if you start pushing him around and shit." Marco slid his hands down his thighs to cup his knees.

  "Pushing him around? Someone needs to push him around. Did you see him today? I wonder if we're making any money off the drug ring or if your damned brother is smoking away the profits."

  "I'm sure D will take care of it. He's a hard-ass, and I know he realized that Freddy was high... again." I added in my two cents, not really caring if Freddy was high or if D realized it. My mother was dead, and things would never be the same. Her murder had forever changed our lives, etching pain and sadness across us like a heavy wet blanket. The momentary break for a short laugh with Marco moments before was gone, and reality set back in.

  "Ehhh, enough of that." My father sighed and slumped down in his seat, his hand coming up to rub his eyes as Marco reached over and took my hand.

  "I can't believe this shit is happening, or really happened," Marco mumbled.

  Dad looked up, the emotion on his once-handsome face breaking my heart. "What are we going to do?"

  "We're going to find the bastards that did this and make them and everyone they love pay, Papa," Marco spoke softly, his hand squeezing mine as the air seemed to grow impossibly thick around us.

  I nodded my agreement as my father's eyes shifted toward me. "We'll figure this out, Dad. It's going to take a little bit of time, but one thing is for sure, we need someone on the police force who can help us understand what they know."

  "Well one thing’s for damn sure. They aren't going to give us information if we just ask for it, even if it was my wife that died. Armstrong made it seem easy, but you and I know that we need a rat on the force. His son would be perfect."

  "Then we plant a rat. How hard can it be?" Marco dropped my hand and crossed his arms over his chest as the car pulled onto the freeway.

  "Harder than you think," I whispered and looked out the other window. The city was busy for a rainy midday afternoon. Our lives had changed substantially over the last few days, and yet the world continued to spin, people living their blissfully ignorant existences and seemingly unaware of the evil that lurked just outside their windows.

  I couldn't help but wonder if Mother had gone to Heaven, or if there even was a Heaven. We'd gone to the Catholic church a few times, Mama making us on special holidays and services, but she herself went all the time. Every Sunday without fail.

  "You think Mama's in Heaven?" I whispered without realizing that I'd spoken it aloud.

  "Of course she is. I don't know a more devout woman to God and family than your mama, Izzy." My father spoke before moving toward us and nudging me to move over.

  He slipped in beside me and sandwiched me between himself and Marco. I couldn't help but find comfort in the contact.

  My dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. "It's going to be hard to move past all of this, and we'll never forget the beauty and love that was your mother, but we will make it — together, like we always do."

  Marco turned and nodded. "Dad's right. We will find these bastards, avenge Mama’s death and reign hell across this city like they've never seen before."

  I leaned back and listened to the conversation as it continued between my father and eldest brother. I wanted to be at the center of it all and knew that both my brothers and my father would support me in doing just that.

  "I need to kill someone," I mumbled.

  Dad laughed, and Marco shook his head, looking back out the window.

  "That's my girl. I have just the fellow. He owes me two million dollars, and he's disappeared."

  "I'm not in the mood to chase my prey."

  "Well, good, because he'll be at the Moonlight Bar tonight at eleven, so don't chase him; just kill him."

  I sat up and gave my dad my full attention. "How did you get the tip that he'd be there?"

  My father smiled and almost looked like himself again. "Because... Under a pseudonym, I invited him. He'll be there for sure."

  Chapter 4

  Demetri

  "You're just joking around, right?" Freddy asked, reaching up to change the heat settings on the dashboard.

  I slapped his hand back and looked over at him sternly.

  "Don't touch the car. Sit your ass in it, but that's it." I reached up and turned the heater back on. "You need to learn respect. You're not a kid anymore, and you're still acting like one. I have no idea why Joe thought it would be a good idea to have you as a capo of anything."

  "He didn't; my mother forced him to move me up." Freddy grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest, his greasy black hair doing nothing for his thinned-out appearance.

  "Why would Vivian want you to run the drug cartel? You have an addiction, and it's getting rather obvious on more than the physical front that you're smoking up the fucking profit margin, Freddy."

  The young greaser shrugged, his dark eyes glossy as he stared at me blankly.

  I pulled out of the long line of cars that sat idle in the wet grass beside the house of graves and lifted my hand to wave goodbye to a few familiar faces.

  "I guess she thought that I deserved to be in leadership simply because I'm stamped with the great Castaletta name." His hands came up in a mocking way, and I swatted at him again. "Hey, keep your big-ass gorilla hands to yourself."

  "Stop acting like a child, and I might," I responded before turning on the radio. Elton John's “Bennie and the Jets” blared from the small external speakers.

  Freddy came to life a little as he shrugged his shoulders over and over while bobbing his head back and forth.

  "Is that supposed to be some form of dancing?" I asked, chuckling. I hated the kid from a business sense but considered him a brother even in the worst of times.

  "Hey, I can get my groove on."

  "Not in this car you can't."

  "What the fuck's so special about this car? You get your first and only lay in this car, or what?"

  I caught myself from throwing out a yo’ mama joke. At times Freddy and I had enjoyed moments of under-the-table humor. Now wouldn't be the time, and the slight shift in Freddy's shoulders told me that the younger man was thinking the same thing I was.

  Out of all of the Castaletta kids, Freddy had been Vivian's favorite. He was the wounded duck, the one that would never make something of himself without loads of help and care. He'd flunked out of school his freshman year, pissed off Joe too many times to count and had to be bailed out of jail over and over. Not only was he a difficult child, but his older siblings were brilliant, well respected and had achieved their goals already in life.

  Joe doted on Izzy and spoke highly of Marco to anyone who would listen. Though the two older siblings were granted leadership in the syndicate at a young age, Freddy hadn't been afforded that right — until Vivian had stepped in.

  I remembered it like it was yesterday, the beautiful woman of the house putting her foot down and forcing the fierce Joe Castaletta to bow before her and give Freddy a chance. He promised her that it was a mistake and that he'd be in her face telling her so as soon as he could, but it had been four years, and Freddy had done pretty well — until lately.

  "Tell me what happened."

  "What happened with what? Stop being cryptic and shit. I hate it when you do that." Freddy shook his head as if I were the biggest pain in the ass ever. He didn't answer but instead turned to look out the passenger-side window.

  "What happened with you? Your mama fought hard for you to have this leadership position, and now you're just dicking it away. Why? What changed?" My voice rose in volume, but I made sure to keep my emotions locked down tight. I was pissed at some of the shenanigans that Freddy had been pulling lately, but something sat at the core of the disruption — it always did.
>
  He shrugged.

  "That's not an answer. You and I can play games and I'll dig into your shit on my own, but I can promise you it will be painful."

  "Is that the only option you're giving me, Dad?"

  "Stop being a bitch. You know the other option. You're a grown man, so sit up and talk to me or I'll figure it out without you, and when I do, you'll be paying me back for my time."

  Freddy sat up and huffed exaggeratedly, reaching for the heat before jerking his hand back. He was learning.

  I smiled, unable to help myself.

  "I don't know what the fuck is up. It would be an easy answer if I did. I'm sick of being in the shadow of my brilliant older brother and sister. Shit gets old." He shrugged.

  "So you create drama simply because you think that will garner you attention?"

  "I don't know what the fuck garner means, but any type of attention is better than none. Mom's the only one that paid me attention or believed in me at all. Now there's like... " He shrugged again and turned back toward the window as if he weren't able to continue his train of thought.

  I was done pushing for the moment, not wanting to see the heavy emotion that sat on him shift into something we would both feel awkward about. I reached out and turned up the heat and the music, letting Freddy fall deep under the cover of one or both.

  ****

  "Get out of the car, and don't touch anything," I mumbled and parked on the corner of Fifth and Murphy. Vivian had been found just a few feet in front of us in a darkened alley four days before.

  I got out of the car and glanced around, wondering why the streets were empty. Tugging my long black coat closer, I moved around the car and scowled at Freddy as he opened the door and almost hit me with it.

  "Sorry... sorry." Freddy got out and closed the door, moving beside me and looking around the street behind us. "What are you hoping to find here, D? You don't think the boys in blue can do their jobs, or what?"

  I snorted and ignored the question. No way had the cops taken the time to really assess the scene. Everyone at the station was aware that Joseph Castaletta had his fingers in the wrong pies and yet everyone who crossed them ended up in the river next to Saint Mary's. Too bad they could never lay proof as to who knocked them off. Freddy kept chattering next to me in a way that was annoying, even for him.