Doctor Feelgood: (A Bad Boy Doctor Novel)

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Doctor Feelgood: (A Bad Boy Doctor Novel) Page 82

by Weston Parker


  Realization dawned on me. Maybe it was too difficult for him to be with me, seeing that his mother had been brutally raped and most likely murdered in the alley we stood beside.

  "Hey... if this is too much, go get in the car. You don't need to be here with me."

  Freddy hesitated, his eyes a little too wide to pull off a look of ease or comfort. He glanced at the alley and then back at the car.

  I pointed to the car without waiting for an answer. "Go."

  "Yeah, okay, but if you need me... "

  "I won't." I turned and reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a small flashlight and turning it on. The late afternoon sun was hidden behind dark clouds, leaving the area around me darker than usual. The heavens seemed upset at having to welcome a God-fearing Mafia wife into its gates that morning. "Holy rollers and their religion."

  I walked deep into the alley as the heavy taint of despair sat in the corners where bedding was rolled up and small bags filled with useless trinkets sat. The homeless population had gotten out of control in the city of Chicago, and the police patrols had caused most of the poor bastards to hide in the filth of the Windy City’s alleys, staying out of the public eye. I scowled at the treatment of the poor bastards. Life was a bitch sometimes, and ending up homeless and broke was a huge reward for not treating that bitch as queen.

  Dark eyes peered out at me as my flashlight lit up the far corner ahead. A soft grunt echoed from that same corner, but I ignored it. Instead, I turned toward the lining of black trash cans along the wall to find the chalk outline of Vivian faded but still distinguishable.

  I knelt down and pressed my hand to the cold concrete as the image of someone raping her swept across my vision. I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to burn the very thought away as my stomach grew sick and my knees weak.

  How someone could hurt a beautiful soul like Vivian was beyond me. The only conclusion we could come to is that it wasn't at all about Vivian, but about hurting Joe and the syndicate.

  We all knew the risk in choosing to live the lives we did, but that didn't make things any easier to swallow when the shit went down.

  Things like that weren't supposed to happen.

  Rico was Vivian's guard and should have been with her, but after talking to him we found out that she'd given him the slip that day. She’d always assumed she could take care of herself and that everyone would be too scared to fuck with Joe, but where there is a large fish in the sea, there will always be a bigger one waiting to swallow him up — or try to.

  The syndicate was a small conglomerate, and a threat to all those who hoped to throw their hat into the crime business. The chances of the murderers being from Chicago were slim. They were most likely from New York or Mexico or even as far as Italy.

  Crime spanned the globe, and with the way technology was moving us rapidly into a digital world, it was just a matter of time before selling dope could be as easy from country to country as it was from neighborhood to neighborhood.

  The rumbling behind me got a little louder as I squatted in the alleyway with my thoughts lost on the future. I wasn't concerned about the homeless man bothering me, or anyone really. I had learned to fight and kill in a way that left me confident, almost to a fault.

  I glanced over my shoulder and lifted my chin as the guy approached. "Whatchu know, old-timer?"

  The older man pointed to the chalk outline on the ground. "I know one thing: that pretty little lady right there didn't deserve to die."

  To Be Continued…

  This Castaletta series is FILLED with twists and turns. It’s a sexy love story, but there is some intense-ass drama around every bend on this one. If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read thus far… pick up a copy on us HERE. It’s a wild ride you’re not going to want to miss.

  This next one Ali and I plotted as a stand-alone story, but her beautiful girls in her street team pushed and pushed to get more of Ian. So we turned it into a trilogy to give them (and you!) more story. I hope you love this last sneak peek. The taboo relationship with a bad boy bodyguard and a spoiled Senator’s rich daughter is wicked hot. Don’t miss out.

  RAS: I can touch my toes…if I bend my knees and have some help. I’m starting to think that I shouldn’t have put this one in here. What the hell does this have to do with anything? (Says my sister Ali)

  Forgotten Bodyguard

  A Look Behind the Curtain

  Sneak Peek

  A Forbidden Fruit Novel

  (Originally Published by my sister, Ali Parker (Pen name Nicole York)) Co-written by us together. A Taboo Trilogy, all on KU & Amazon)

  It's hard to tell a bad boy to keep his hands off the hottest asset under his watch... especially when she wants those hands all over her.

  Chloe Moore has money, status and popularity, but she yearns for the missing piece - freedom. Her father is the governor of California and has decided to run for President of the United States. Due to some of his political positions, he's receiving death threats. With no choice, Chloe is given a shadow, a bodyguard that has been instructed to never leave her side as she attends school at UCLA. Her life before her father's decision to run was restrictive, now it's unbearable.

  Ian Matthenson has worked himself up from the shitty start he got in life. Coming from the wrong side of the tracks and spending more time in jail than not, he's finally cleaned up and proven himself to the right people. His older brother gets him a gig he can't refuse - protecting the college-aged daughter of a political icon, a man even he looks up to. He has no concern over his ability to keep the pretty little tease safe, but keeping his hands off of her is going to be the feat of his existence.

  Things heat up as Chloe pushes Ian to the edge, both physically and mentally. It's only when her life is in danger that he realizes that perhaps it's not just his paycheck that causes him to protect the girl's body so closely...

  Book 1 in a 3 book series. All books are available on KU & Amazon.

  Prologue

  Ian

  Hordes of people milled about the entrance to the event, the sunny California sun inviting all to come out and play. Saturday had finally arrived and I planned on enjoying the festival, but someone called in. Someone always called in.

  The beach sat just beyond the man-made platform, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach almost lulling me into a comatose state. I sat on a concrete pillar and worked to roll the sleeves of my button-down shirt up high and tight. My tats were too pretty not to show off and the warmth of the sun was calling my name.

  A few girls wearing the smallest bikinis I had ever seen danced around the gates, one of them blowing me a kiss. I pretended to catch it, winked at her, and tucked the treat into my shirt pocket before adverting my eyes back to the water. I’d be called into action any minute, but until that time came, I wasn’t moving a muscle.

  "Ian. You're up, dude," my brother yelled from inside the large chain-link fence. He was my polar opposite in appearance, but it was all a ruse. His blond hair trimmed nicely to his head, his clean-shaven face and blue eyes were all fake. He wanted to live the part, therefore he had to play it. He looked like the pretty boy the world required him to look like in order to own a thriving security business, but on the inside? He was just like me, if not worse. His old lady had him settled down a little, but only enough to keep the peace.

  I learned every nefarious move I'd made from my brother Cole, but I wouldn't hold the past against him. He'd also helped me clean up some of the shitty messes I had made. One in particular being my resume. Jobs weren’t a concern until I realized a pretty girl on the dance floor didn’t want more than a one-time fuck from a poor guy. Any hope of getting her number was out once she realized my potential for being a responsible contributing member of society was out. As if those guys fucked strangers…

  Hopping off my temporary lookout point, I walked into the all-day concert and glanced around, making sure to take note of anyone who looked suspicious. The event was being put on by the Council for Political
Awareness, but the onlookers didn't give a rat's ass who put it on. It was free and it was music.

  I moved up beside my brother and smoothed my shirt down as he turned and rolled his eyes at me. He turned and worked my sleeves back down over my shoulders, and brushed something off the front of my pants before I swatted at him.

  "Stop acting like my fucking mother," I growled, and turned to watch a pretty blond take the stage. She flashed a little tit and the crowd went wild. I smirked and turned to Cole. "Wouldn't it be the life to just sleep all damn day, smoke a little pot, and then get up on a stage half-naked and lip-sing for a shit-ton of money?"

  "She's not lip-singing, Ian." He turned back to scan the crowd and crossed his arms over his chest. "All right. You're up for this next bit. Watch closely for anything suspicious. Senator Moore has more enemies than friends and we're looking to provide a safe environment for him to present his platform."

  "Yeah, yeah. Make sure no one blows the rich old man's head off. Got it."

  "Fuck, Ian. Don't say that out loud. You'll jinx us."

  "I don't believe in anything but luck and I ain't got any of it." I chuckled and poked my finger into his side as he jerked away.

  "I'm serious. You never know when something seemingly small might lead to a life-changing opportunity for you." Cole shrugged, snorted in disgust and walked off.

  I couldn't help but call after him. "What the fuck does seemingly mean anyway?"

  Laughing, I turned back around and dropped the act. I was a security guard most nights of the week at the local hospital, but it paid horribly and I worked my ever-loving ass off. There was never a moment of rest or, God forbid, a word of encouragement.

  My brother had picked me up to work a few gigs with his private security company in hopes of getting me the attention he believed I deserved. He was the only one who believed in me. I’d lost my hope for anything better a long time ago. The world was an unforgiving bitch and guys like me limped along just fine as long as it turned a blind eye to us.

  The little tart before us finished dry humping the stage and stood, lifting her hands in the air and twirling a few times. One of her backup dancers had to catch her as she started to fall. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the audacity of some people. The fact that she was paid to act a fool was the most fucked-up part of all of it.

  "High," I muttered and turned my attention to the crowd, looking at each face and seeing nothing but worship. Why people felt the need to drop to a knee for another human was beyond me. Not my problem anyway. I’d never do that shit in a million years.

  The girl walked off the stage and a thin guy with dreadlocks and a pipe hopped up on the platform, his attire making it look like he rolled up out of the seventies.

  "All right boys and girls. Now for the big event. We have one of our favorite big wigs here with us today. He's been running this great state from the center of Washington D.C. and is the reason we have regulations on the big bad oil companies, and pot on every corner. Let's give a big hand to our leader and your friend, Senator Mitch Moore!" The guy put the mic down and lifted his hands high in the air, nodding as if to encourage the crowd to show some love.

  The crowd went wild and I lifted my hands, clapping a few times for the old man too. He was pretty all right in my book and had worked hard a few years ago to put together a program that helped juvenile delinquents push toward a better life. Between his programs and my brother... I was a different man with a future and a bit of hope. Maybe.

  A flash of silver caught my eye as the sun shifted, illuminating the crowd. The Senator lifted his hands in the air, saying something that caused the crowd to cheer again. Must have been about pot. That was the only thing that could get a crowd of Californians to raise their voices to the level they were.

  I didn't hesitate for a second, but jumped off the chair I stood on and bounded over people and benches, reaching the guy about the time he lifted his gun.

  "Get down!" I screamed in the loudest voice I could muster. The crowd's screams gave acknowledgment to the fact that my warning worked. I plowed into the guy and pushed the gun from his hands as it went off. Holding his arms above his head, I growled at him menacingly and pressed my nose to his.

  "Move and I'll fucking tear your head from your shoulders."

  “What the fuck, dude? Don’t you know who that jackass is? It’s your own grave you’re digging.” He thrashed beneath me and barked as his face turned beet red.

  Someone tapped my shoulder and I glanced back, my body still pressed to the weasel below me. I hated to turn around, but I was twice his size. The fucker wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  Cole extended his hand to me and smiled. "Great job, man. The cops are on their way. Get up and we'll fill out paperwork and get the hell out of here. One of the other guards can keep an eye on him."

  I glanced behind me as the Senator jogged off the stage, turning and lifting his hand toward me. He looked as he should have – shaken up.

  I nodded and turned back to my brother. "No one was hurt?"

  "Nope. Thanks to you. Impressive. Beers on me tonight." He wagged his eyebrows. “Beer, actually, as in one. You get loose like a high school girl in the country after more than one.”

  "Please. I’m like that before we start drinking." I winked and turned back to stare the weasel in the eye, daring the fucker to get up or even twitch. Letting off some steam sounded wonderful and he would do just fine for my punching bag of choice.

  Chapter 1

  Two Weeks Later

  Chloe

  "Summer vacay!" Alyssa screamed as she walked into my dorm room, her hands waving in the air as she danced to a song that had to be jumping around in her head. She pranced around with a big-ass smile on her face as I finished packing everything up. I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath at her. The girl had more energy than anyone might be expected to contain in such a small body.

  "I'm not ready for summer. I'm going to miss all the tests and parties and the late night lattes," I pouted, putting on the show they all had come to expect from me.

  "Well, I will too, but at least you're headed down to the beach. I gotta go work in my father's restaurant in Times Square for the summer. Ugh."

  "Then why the hell are you dancing around like you have a vacation coming your way?" I pulled my long blond hair up into a messy bun and gave up on trying to remain organized. Picking up my last duffel bag, I dropped it beneath the dresser and started opening drawers and dropping crap by the armful into the waiting bag.

  "Anything is better than studying and classes. I fucking hate school. If I could talk my folks out of forcing me to go, life would be perfect. I’m cute enough to find a hot sugar daddy and lay on the beach all day, right?"

  “Yes, but I’m not quite sure that’s the life you want to live. Me on the other hand? I’m all about finding a hot rich guy to spread my legs for and nothing else. He better come with a cook, a butler and a maid.”

  Alyssa rolled her eyes and ran her hand through her dark hair. "Speaking of cute guys who might have a chance of making it big… Is Jeremy going with you to San Diego?"

  "No." I glanced over my shoulder. "We broke up awhile back. You knew that."

  "I know, but I've seen you guys together off and on." She wagged her eyebrows. “I thought maybe you found some way to reconcile your differences. You know, kiss and make-up?”

  "Just no. He's like ten years older than me. Why I decided it might be a good thing to try dating a non-traditional student here, I have no clue. I guess the fact that he loves politics and really gets along well with my dad." I shrugged and picked up the bag, lugging it back to my bed as I grunted dramatically.

  "He's is a little creepy about your dad, like he has a man crush on him or something." She moved to the door.

  "Yeah. It’s better that we ended things. I'm looking forward to hanging out with some old friends from high school and reconnecting with a few beach hotties I grew up with." I smiled and sucked my bottom lip into my m
outh.

  "You're so bad. Teach me your ways? No, don’t. I might get addicted." She swatted at me before pulling me into a tight hug. "Be careful and text me three hundred thousand times a day. Promise?"

  "I promise." I laughed and squeezed her until she grunted.

  She was new to UCLA and to our sorority, but she had made quite an impact her first semester. We had become close fast. She had extended an invitation to join her in New York, but I needed my beach and my sun for a long rest from the hectic course load I forced myself to take this last year. Impressing my father was the only way to get noticed, so impressive is what I had become, regardless of the toll it took on me.

  "I'm out. Lots of love for you girlie." She walked out and I let out a long sigh, not sure about what time to leave. My father wanted to meet for dinner, but he was leaving the time up to me. I knew the minute I got into San Diego I would be bombarded with old friends. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about all of it. Being used because of my father’s status wasn’t a new thing, but it remained a pain in the ass to put up with no matter how old I was.

  Growing up in the sunny beach city and being the daughter of the most-loved Senator in Cali history left me more popular than I wanted to be. I played the part well, but I was as fake as a California tan on an Alaskan cheerleader.

  I heaved my last bag over my shoulder and walked down the hall to the long staircase that led to the first floor of the house. Having been the longest-standing member in the Sigma Kappa's, I got to choose my bedroom for the spring semester. I took the smallest one, simply for the fact that it had a great view of the outdoor track. All the boys in the shorty shorts would run each morning as I got ready for school. Nothing to get you in the mood to study like watching men who took care of themselves huff around in something shorter than undies.

 

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