Doctor Feelgood: (A Bad Boy Doctor Novel)

by Weston Parker

  I grabbed my purse and walked out of the front door of the house. The back opened right up onto the beach, which was the best part of the place.

  The limo that sat in front of the house was a bit of a surprise. My father had several cars, but his silver Lexus was his guilty pleasure of choice. The stretch limo was a bit much, but I was sure he had an excuse for the extravagance. He always did.

  The driver got out and smiled at me, holding the door. "Miss Moore. How are you this evening?"

  "Good. Thank you." I lifted my nose a little, acting like they expected me to.

  "Pumpkin. Don't you look beautiful?" My father reached up and pulled me into a tight hug as the driver shut the door behind me. I was more surprised that the old man got out of the car than I was that he’d brought the thing. It seemed a little risky to be driving around in something that would draw attention to us no matter where we went.

  "Thanks, Dad." I moved to the seat beside him and worked on getting my seatbelt on before turning to pin him with a stare. "What's with the car? I thought we were trying to keep a low profile because of the death threats popping up everywhere?"

  "Yeah, but I thought it would be fun. It's been awhile since we've been on a father-daughter date, so I thought, why the hell not? Besides, we pay for the best protection in the world. Let the bad guys come. They won’t get too far." He smiled and I forced a tight smile myself.

  Why not was because it would draw attention our way no matter where we were. Not only that, but there were starving kids in the orphanage down the block, but let's ride in class.

  "Well, cool. If you’re comfortable with it, then I guess I am as well." I smiled and turned to ask him about his campaign trail, but his phone buzzed and he pulled it out and lifted his hand, silencing me like he had been doing my whole life.

  "I need to get this. Excuse me for a minute." He answered it before I could mutter a word.

  "Sure," I mumbled under my breath and pulled out my own phone, sinking down in the seat next to him and flipping through the various text messages I had.

  One was from Jeremy. "Hey pretty girl. Just seeing if you were going to be in town this weekend. I got concert tickets to T-swift and figured you might want to go. Let me know and I'll even buy you a hot dog."

  I rolled my eyes and laughed softly, unable to help myself. Where I might really enjoy seeing Taylor in concert, I knew without a doubt that Jeremy wouldn't. He was in his early thirties and still trying to act like he wasn't. It was too much.

  "What's funny?" My father turned toward me. I hadn't realized he was off the call.

  "Oh, just Jeremy asking me to a concert. I swear he thinks he's my age."

  "Chloe. You know I don't like you talking to him. Something is off about the guy." My father patted my leg. "Text him back and tell him no."

  I ruffled at the fact that my dad was telling me what to do and I was in my early twenties. I wanted to defy him just for the sake of doing it, but it wasn't worth the emotional energy. I would push back and he would remind me of my mother's death and the hardship he had as a single father trying to make not only my life better, but the world better for everyone.

  "Yep. I'll tell him, Dad. Nothing to worry about." I slipped the phone back in my purse. "Now... tell me about the campaign. Are you blazing a trail of goodness and truth across the United States?"

  He laughed as his face lit up. "We need reform. I've been saying that for years. It's time for another reformation. Do you know the story of Martin Luther?"

  "No. Tell it to me." I smiled and leaned back, pretending to listen as I went to my happy place. I had heard the story of Martin Luther a million times, but my father sold the same stale stories to so many people that he long ago forgot the faces of those of us that had heard them. I didn't have the heart to join in, copying his words right alongside him. It would be childish, and though I would enjoy it in the moment... later I would hate myself even more. The worst part was that he should have known that he’d told me the story a million times before, but I was no different than them to him. I was just another voting member of society.

  How can I be surrounded by people and yet feel so alone all the time?

  "Pumpkin. Are you listening to me?" He poked at my side and I jumped.

  "Oh sorry. I actually studied Martin Luther in one of my history classes last year. I was lost in the story and imagining myself there." I brushed my hands down my white summer dress and turned my attention back to him. "What is your plan to keep yourself safer after the attack a few weeks back?"

  "I always have Pauly beside me, but we've added a few extra guys to the payroll. There's one of them in particular that I wanted to talk to you about." He tapped his leg, which was never a good sign.

  "Dad. I'm not interested in dating right now. I have one more year of school and then med school after that."

  He laughed. "No. I'm not setting you up, silly. I'd rather you not focus on anything but school right now."

  "Oh, good. Then what's up with this guy?" My conclusion had been rather ignorant. My father, though not completely withdrawn from my life, had rarely gotten involved in trying to get me to date. He almost seemed to be more content when I wasn’t seeing anyone. Less to worry about, no doubt.

  "Well, I've been talking with my advisors and they’re concerned about some of the threat's I've been getting lately."

  "Threats? Death threats?" The tight strain of his voice got my attention.

  "Yes, but please don't worry. I have full protection around me. The only part of me that's exposed to threat really is... well, you." He brushed his fingers over his eyebrows as if trying to get them to lay flat. It was his tale-tell way of trying to look cool in the midst of extreme nervousness.

  "Me? Wait... are you saying that you want me to have security detail too?" A tightness tugged at my insides that I’d only experienced a few times in my short life. Anything that felt like constraints left me struggling to breathe and ready to fight for my rights.

  "Yes, but just until we know if I'm in the primaries. If I'm not, which I highly doubt that I'll make it this time, we'll let him go."

  "Hell no." I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. "There is no way I'm having some guy follow me out every time I go somewhere. I’m not in danger. Nothing has happened to me. I doubt they even know I exist Dad."

  "He would be with you twenty-four seven Chloe, and this really isn't a request, baby. I'm hiring someone. I cannot have something happen to you. Not after we lost your mother. You know all I've done to make sure you were protected and safe. I can't let something happen now, and don’t be a child. Of course everyone knows that I have a daughter, and that she’s you. That wouldn’t take much digging to uncover, Chloe."

  "I don’t care. It's not happening, Dad. You can say anything you want. I'm not having a shadow. It's creepy and I'm perfectly capable of defending myself. Keep your security guys with you and just let me live my life."

  "It's not that easy, and you know it."

  "Fine. I'll just disappear." I knew the minute I said it that me leaving wasn’t at all a possibility. It didn’t even feel good to throw it in his face. Bastard.

  I had nothing without him. Somehow he had made sure of that.

  Chapter 4

  Ian

  I got home a little after midnight, the girl bringing a few of her friends to the party in the lady’s room. I felt like shit for using them, but the same voice that pushed me farther and farther away from being a good guy piped up non-stop. It was a good reminder that I was nothing more than a piece of ass for them anyway. We were all at fault, so who was I to play the saint? I wouldn't even know where to begin if I had to walk that tight rope.

  Sinking down on the couch in my shitty little apartment, I flipped on the TV and stared at the static-filled screen for a few minutes before closing my eyes. I needed to get a little bit of sleep before tomorrow. I had an early afternoon shift and my brother had texted that the interview would be at ten a.m. in La Jolla. Seemed th
e good Senator knew how to live with the best of them. Maybe he could rub off on me.

  I reached for her like I always did when we finished making love. She jerked from me and laughed, sliding to the edge of the bed and glaring over her shoulder.

  "Don't." Her words were harsh, but I was almost used to them. She had never been anything but hateful. Why did I put myself through this shit again? Right. Love.

  "Baby, come back over here and let me hold you. You know I hate it when you leave after we make love." I brushed the bed just beside her, wanting so badly to pull her back into my arms. I just needed one night in her arms like we used to have. I just wanted one, but it was too much to ask for.

  "Ian. Stop acting like a fucking girl. We don't make love. We fuck. We haven't made love since we were kids and you had plans of actually making something out of yourself." She laughed and stood up, walking away from me to lean toward the mirror.

  I rolled onto my back and pressed my arm across my face. She was right. I was a piece of shit and deserved nothing more than a quick fuck by a crack whore, which is exactly what she had become... because of me.

  The girl who stole my heart in high school was long gone and this monster took her place. I stayed beside her, begging for attention simply because I needed redemption. I dragged her into the fucked-up world we lived in. I would take whatever she threw my way and ask for another serving of it.

  She turned as tears filled her eyes. I scrambled to my knees, the sheet falling and leaving me naked, our sex still covering my body.

  "What's the matter, baby?" I moved to the edge of the bed as she held up her hands, slapping at the air in front of her.

  "No. Stay back. Tell them to stay back, Ian. Don't let them get me. Don't let..." Her scream pierced me with such force that I had to cover my ears. I tried to get out of the bed to get to her, but I couldn't push past the force of her scream, the sound having personified into an entity much greater than me.

  I glanced up as blood began to trickle from her little button nose.

  "No. Stop it. Stop screaming, Mandy. You're busting the veins in your nose, baby." I moved toward the floor, but the ground simply sunk as my feet pressed into it. I grunted and pushed forward until her cries got to be too much.

  She cried out again. Blood poured from her nose and ears, her little puckered lips white and cracked, her eyes wild and hair half pulled out. She thrusted her arms toward me, palms up. I turned from her, closing my eyes at the sight before me. The track lines from the needles on her pretty flesh left it bruised and puffy with infection.

  "Look at me. Look at what I've become. Look at what you did to me." She screamed over and over as I began to cry, unable to help myself.

  I turned back and let out a scream that shook me to the core of my soul. "I know, baby. Forgive me. Please God, Mandy... forgive me."

  Jerking up from the couch, I gasped for air until I realized where I was. I pressed my head into my hands, the sweat covering me having dripped all over the leather couch and made a fucking mess. I got up and let out a long groan as I walked to the bathroom.

  "How long will I have to suffer the demons of my past?" I stopped by the bathroom and turned on the facet, leaning over and splashing water on my face. I hated to sleep, simply for that very reason. She was always there. Always waiting to remind me of what I'd done by bringing her into my world.

  "I fucking hate you," I growled at myself in the mirror and turned away, tugging a towel from the rack and moving to the bedroom. I changed into a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt before going in search of my tennis shoes. A two-hour run on the beach would do me some good. Something had to give. It was three in the morning and I was officially done sleeping for the night.

  I walked out into the chilly morning air and slipped my ear buds into my ears, asking God for redemption for my past just in case he had a break in dealing with the sick and dying. Perhaps if he took a coffee break at the right moment, he would hear me and save me from the terror of my dreams. I had only loved one woman in my life and having to bury her because of my own addictions becoming hers left me unwilling to ever try again. Sex and work... sex and work...

  I turned the corner past my rundown apartments and picked up my speed, needing to burn everything from my mind. The interview with the Senator wouldn't be intimidating, simply because all I could be was me and if that wasn't enough, fuck it and fuck him too. I wasn't into playing games or pretending to be anything for anyone long-term. To get a piece of ass for an hour or so? Sure. I'd be a nice guy, but that wasn’t too far from the truth. It never served me well, and yet I couldn’t stop. The asshole persona only lasted so long.

  I thought back to my interview at the hospital when I’d scored my current job, trying to remember the details. I worked through all of the interview questions I could remember, and spouted out answers as quickly and truthfully as I could. I had some good examples of teamwork and having to deal with difficult people. If the Senator gave me a character test I'd pass with flying colors. I was a recovered drug addict.

  What personality did I need to have to get what I wanted? Easy enough, consider it done.

  The run went by too fast and I found myself in the shower, washing with expedience in hopes of getting there early. The memory of the night before with the girls in the bathroom rolled over me and I took a deep breath, trying to not beat myself up too much over it. They wanted an orgy and I simply complied. The sound of their combined moans as I drove into one of them, fingered another and sucked hard at the last one’s pussy was almost too much.

  I was a one-woman man. I always had been, even in the worst of times. Some part of my soul shriveled, not so much at the thought of using the girls, but at the stark realization that they’d used me.

  "I’m such a sick fuck," I growled at myself and dried off, working hard not to hate myself too much before meeting with Mr. Moore. He would see right through me if he was worth his weight in salt. If not... I'd have a new job by the end of the day. Babysitting a spoiled rich kid couldn't be too bad. Hopefully she was hot. That would help me get through the days if nothing else, but not too hot. Looks always had a way of pulling me into the shallow end of the pool. It wasn’t a dangerous place to be unless the little bitch had a personality, and God forbid, a heart. Then I was in serious trouble.

  ****

  I refused to wear a suit, it just wasn't me. The black slacks and long-sleeve button down monkey shirt was as good as it was going to get. My brother tried to talk me into a tie as I stood before him in his living room. He fucked with my hair until I pushed him off and grabbed my stuff.

  "It's going to be fine." I looked over my shoulder as I walked to the door.

  "I know. I just want what's best for you, Ian. You know that, man." He moved to the door and opened it wider, smirking at me and squeezing my shoulder. "Just be you, all right?"

  "That's all I can be. Anything else is too damn exhausting." I didn’t turn back to respond to his mumblings. He was a worry-wart, and I was his favorite topic to get an ulcer over.

  I walked out and threw my leg over my bike, enjoying the purr of the motor between my legs. The air rushed by me as if it had someplace to be and left me more at peace than I had been in the last day or so.

  I almost lamented when I made it to the long string of offices where the interview would be held moments later. A set of villains in monkey suits met me at the door, frisking me good before walking me down a long hall and stopping in front of the third door on the left.

  I kept a close watch where I was, and what everyone looked like. Call it a bad past that showed up a little too often. I wanted to be prepared for anything. The door opened and the Senator stood from behind a desk, walking around with a large smile on his face.

  "Ian Matthenson?" He extended his hand.

  "Yes, Sir. Nice to meet you." I shook it and gave him a tight smile.

  "Pleasure's all mine, son. Have a seat. This shouldn't take too long. I'm sure Cole informed you of what we're looking f
or?" He took a seat behind the desk and I sat on the edge of my chair, trying to look as professional as I could.

  "He did. Have you reviewed my background? I have a bit of a past, which I can explain if you think that would help you to understand me a little bit more."

  He held up his hand. "It's all good. I've walked through every step you've taken since leaving the foster care system. You're a good man who had a rough start. I see how hard you and Cole have worked to have a different future. The point was proven at the event a few weeks back when you risked your life to save mine. Your years of being truly wild seem to be long passed. Am I right in that?"

  "That is right, and I was just doing my job at the event, Sir." I nodded, trying like hell to press down the need to explain my fucked-up teenage years even more. He hadn’t asked about them, but simply made a reference to them. It was the nice way of passing over the bad shit and getting on to the good. I was all for it.

  "And you do it well. My daughter is... well, she's difficult." He glanced down at his hands and shook his head.

  "What young woman isn't?" I smiled, hoping to ease the tension of whatever might be racing through his mind.

  He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you're right. She's a great girl, but having to live this life with me... well, anyway. I'll have you meet with her and then you can decide if you want the job."

  "It's just for the summer, right?"

  "For now it is. I'm going to be in the preliminary running for the presidential campaign this fall, but you never know if you'll make it that far. If I don't, we should be good for this to be short-term employment, but if not and things are working out, we can talk then.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And I assume that Cole told you about the salary?"

  "Yes, Sir. It's more than generous."

  "Good. You'll be staying at the large beach house I'm renting for her in La Jolla as well for the summer should you decide to take the position."