by B. B. Hamel
“Where are you from, Bailey?”
“Around here, actually.” I say. “Born and raised.”
“Look at you. I’m a midwestern girl myself.”
“How’d you end up in Philadelphia?”
“Hospitals,” she says. “They’re hiring nurses everywhere, but I got a good offer at Jefferson, so here I am.”
Westin gives me a look and I force myself to ignore him. Instead, I ask Nany about how she got into medicine, about growing up in the Midwest, about her life. Soon enough, Westin’s the one that’s the third wheel.
I like talking with Nany. She’s kind, funny, outgoing. Conversation is natural and easy, and as more time passes, I realize that I actually like her.
Eventually though, the night’s getting later. People are drunker, louder, more people are parking up to the bar. I catch Westin’s eye and get up. “Bathroom time,” I say.
“Same.” Westin stands, stretches.
“You two aren’t about to sneak off to fuck back there, are you?” Nany asks with a sly smile.
“He wishes,” I answer.
Westin nods soberly. “I sure do.”
Nany laughs as I head back toward the bathrooms, Westin in tow. Once we get back there, we huddle up in a little dark corner with an old cigarette machine, empty now except for granola bars for a dollar apiece.
“Well?” he asks.
“She’s nice,” I say.
“Nice? She’s great. Come on, admit it.”
“Okay. Fine.” For some reason, I hate that he just called her great. But he’s right.
“What should we do?” His voice is heavy with meaning and I have to force the anxiety back.
“We don’t have any other options, do we?” I ask him as a drunk girl stumbles past, laughing to someone on the phone.
“Not really,” he says, leaning closer.
I can feel his body, his heat, so close in this little alcove. I bet we look like lovers, about to kiss.
Maybe we are. Maybe that’s exactly what’s about to happen.
His eyes are staring into mine. I feel a thrill in my stomach, in my chest. I suddenly want it badly. I yearn for it, his lips against mine.
“Okay,” I say, almost a whisper. “Ask her.”
“All right then.”
He lingers close for a long moment, my heart racing.
But he turns after a moment and walks back to the bar.
I let him go. I slip into the bathroom and splash water on my face, trying to calm myself down.
“Doesn’t work.”
I glance over as the drunk girl from a minute ago comes out of a stall.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Water on the face,” she says, slurring. “Doesn’t work. Trust me. Splash splash, nothing. Doesn’t work.” She sighs, walks over, stumbles, leans against the counter.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I am peaches,” she says.
“And cream?”
“No, just peaches.” She gives me a weird look and starts washing her hands.
I slip out of the bathroom, shaking my head, and walk back to the bar.
Westin’s leaning close to Nany. He’s saying something to her, speaking quietly, and she’s tense. She’s leaning close and listening as he talks. She says something in reply. I slow my walk and watch for a second.
Her face is confused. Then it’s a little surprised… then a little angry.
He says something quickly. She shakes her head. He puts his hand on her arm and she stares at him with a frown as he speaks.
But when he finishes… she seems to relax. She leans toward him and they start talking.
I head over and sit down. Nany glances back at me with a frown. “He’s been explaining,” she says to me.
I nod. “I figured.”
She watches me closely for a long moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
She leans over to me. Westin shoots me a look that I can’t really understand.
“Do you really think you can pull this off?”
I blink at her, surprised. “I think so. At least, Westin says so.”
“Westin’s insane and arrogant. This surgery isn’t as simple as he makes it sound.”
“She’s wrong,” he says, but Nany ignores him.
“Do you really think you can assist him? I mean, really? Can you deal with seeing your mom’s back cut open while he slices pieces of her away?”
I nod slowly. “If it’ll help her. If it’ll take her pain away, at least some of her pain. If it can help her have a real life, I’ll do anything to make it happen.”
Nany frowns for a long moment, staring into my eyes, before she sits up straight.
“This is a lot,” she says.
“I know,” Westin answers. “You don’t have to decide now. You can think about it.”
Nany stares straight ahead then looks down at her drink. She grabs it and brings it back to her face… and downs the whole thing. When she’s done, she slams it down onto the bar.
“Another!” she shouts. The bartender shoots her an ugly look but starts making the drink.
I glance at Westin and he looks concerned. I can see it written all over his posture and his face. It makes my own anxiety flare up.
Nany grins at me then at Westin and sighs. “Listen, I hate to do this, but here’s the thing. I still have a shitload of student loan debt and I really need money to start chipping away at it, you know? So tell you what. I want ten grand, and I’ll help.”
I stare at her, feeling like my entire body is going to erupt into flames or maybe simply disappear entirely.
The bartender returns with her drink. Nobody moves or says anything. Westin’s frowning at her but he’s not arguing or negotiating, and I can’t seem to find my voice.
Oh, god, this is worse than her just saying no.
She wants money. A lot of money. More money than I have in the entire world.
“Okay,” Westin says.
I stare at him, eyes wide.
“Okay,” Nany answers, grinning. She holds her drink up. “To a fruitful partnership.”
We all toast. I don’t say a word. I feel like I might melt away. Nany’s grinning and Westin’s forcing himself to smile but I can tell he’s angry, simmering with rage deep below the surface.
“I’d better go,” she says, standing, once she knocks back that last drink. “Let you two talk it out. But I think we’ll all be happy. Your mom’ll get her surgery, Westin will get to do something he enjoys, and I guess you’ll get your mom back. Oh, and I’ll get paid.” She laughs and waves then walks quickly away, out into the night.
Leaving me alone with Westin.
“What the hell just happened?” I manage to gasp to him.
He moves to sit next to me. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine.”
“You’re paying her?”
“She wanted it. I mean, she demanded it. What choice do we have?”
“We can just not pay her.”
“Then she’ll rat us out.”
“You really think she would?”
“I don’t know,” he admits.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”
“It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. Nobody would do this for free.”
I glare at him. “You said she would.”
“I said she might be willing to help.”
“You said we can’t bribe anyone. You said anyone we had to bribe wouldn’t be reliable.”
“I know.” He leans forward, elbows on the bar. “Fuck. I know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to pay her.”
“Westin. That’s too much money.”
“What choice do we have?”
“Westin. Seriously.”
He looks back up, a little smile on his lips. “Listen. One thing about being a doctor is, you’re never hard up for money.”
“But ten thousand dollars?” I hiss.
“I can afford it.” He la
ughs. “Look at the car I drive. Trust me, I can afford it.”
I bite my lip for a second. “Will you really do that? Pay her, I mean, for me? For my mom?”
“I’ll do it for you,” he says softly, leaning toward me. “Remember, pet. I’m not helping you for free, either.”
A chill runs down my spine. “But you’re not getting paid in money.”
“No, I’m not. I’m getting something I want much more.”
I bite my lip as he sighs and looks forward again. I stare at my hands on the bar, my body shaking with fear.
This is the worst-case scenario. Nany asking for money was about as bad as this could’ve gone, short of her instantly taking the story to the hospital admin and getting everyone in trouble.
“What are we going to do?” I whisper.
“We keep going forward.”
He grabs my hand again, this time harder, with force.
“Can we really? I mean, pull it off?”
“Yes,” he says. “We can. I’ll pay her. She’ll come through.”
I nod. I feel too tired to argue.
We spend a few more minutes at the bar, but we don’t chat. The easy conversation from earlier is totally gone now.
Nany isn’t reliable. I know that deep in my bones. Even if she’s nice and I like her, she’s only doing it for money.
But her job is worth a lot more than just ten grand, and she’ll be risking everything by doing this.
I don’t know what to do. But I have to just keep going forward.
That’s my only choice.
I’ll keep going forward and I’ll trust Westin. He says we can do it, and I’m going to believe him.
We leave the bar together and he holds my hand the whole walk back to the car, on the ride home, and up to the door of my apartment. He says goodnight, kisses my cheek, and waits until I’m inside before he leaves.
He’s a perfect gentleman.
And I’m going to give myself to him soon.
12
Westin
Fucking money.
Of course she wants money.
It’s always about money with everyone in this damn world.
I guess I can’t judge. I’m not doing this surgery out of the goodness of my heart. I’m doing it to take Bailey, to have her and taste her and fuck her tight little body. I’m doing it to make her moan and sweat and beg.
But I think that even if Bailey decided to go back on our deal, I’d still help Myra. I’d still go through with it.
At the end of the day, I got into medicine to help people. And I’m sure I can help Myra. I genuinely believe that this surgery can give her some quality of life back. Maybe I won’t cure her perfectly, but I’m going to get her as close as I can to perfect again.
Nany doesn’t know Myra. She doesn’t know Bailey and she barely knows me. If she’s going to take a risk, she needs to be compensated.
The only real problem is how little she asked for.
Her job is worth a lot more than ten grand. She should’ve asked for double that, triple.
I can pay. Hell, I’m going to. And if she asks for more, she’ll get it.
Because now she’s tied into this and we need her more than ever.
She knows the plan. She can destroy us at any minute.
Fucking hell.
The next day, I do my rounds. Nany’s not working, thankfully. I figure things will be a little awkward with her. Then again, she’s good at being polite even when things are strange, so maybe not.
Doesn’t matter. I get through the day, I do my usual thing. And at night, I’m down in the basement in our little hidden room, waiting for Bailey.
Thinking about the night I made her strip. Thinking about her taste on my tongue, her honey pussy dripping down. God, I want to taste her again so badly. I want to slide my thick, long cock between her legs and fuck her until she moans and begs my name and asks for more.
It’s driving me wild.
Time slips past and I suddenly realize that she’s late.
She’s never been late before.
I get out my phone and text her. No response after a few minutes. I call her and get her voicemail.
Shit. That can’t be good.
I get up and pace. I wait ten minutes, twenty. I wait an entire hour before I call her again and again I get voicemail.
“Fuck it,” I grumble to myself, annoyed. I head into the parking garage, get into my car, and start to drive home.
But something whispers in my ear that this isn’t right.
There’s no way Bailey would miss one of these. She’s always perfectly on time or early. She’s never been even a second late. And when she’s here, she’s fucking here. She’s been focused ever since that stripping session.
Maybe she’s angry and freaked about what happened with Nany. Maybe she’s having cold feet and she’s backing out.
But I don’t know. I can’t see that happening, not now. Not after how much work we’ve put in and how far we’ve come.
We have a plan and it’s going to work. There’s no way she’ll turn her back on that, on her only chance at helping her mom.
As I drive, it slowly hits me.
Her mom…
I turn the car around and drive faster toward the suburbs.
Maybe I’m being crazy. Maybe I’m being totally insane. But I just can’t get it out of my head.
Would Bailey call me if her mom was having trouble?
I don’t think she would, even if she should.
I think she’d keep it a secret. She’s too proud and too stubborn to admit that she needs my help beyond what we’ve agreed.
I’m Myra’s doctor now though, damn it. If something happens, I need to know.
I need to help.
I drive out to the suburbs, out to Myra’s house. I park and walk up the front steps, feeling foolish, but unwilling to turn back now. I hesitate then knock on the door. I wait a moment, hear nothing, and ring the bell.
There’s a sound inside. I wait a second before the door unlocks and opens a crack.
Bailey blinks out at me. “Westin?” she asks, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t show up,” I growl at her.
“I’m sorry, I meant to call.”
“What happened?” I step forward, backing Bailey inside. She lets me in and closes the door behind me.
“I’m sorry. My mom called, she was in pain. I could hear it, and I had to come see her, and—”
“Bailey,” I say sternly. “Slow down. What happened?”
The living room is empty, which is concerning. The TV is on, muted now but playing a Wheel of Fortune rerun, probably on some streaming service. Pat Sajak makes a face and the audience laughs and the wheel turns, a glittering flashing sign.
Bailey takes a deep breath. “My mom called me just before I was about to leave to meet you,” she says. “She sounded a little… off. I don’t know how else to describe it. She just sounded off. So I thought I’d come and check on her, you know? I was going to call you when I got here just to let you know that I’d be late. I’m sorry I forgot.”
“That’s okay,” I say softly. “It doesn’t matter. What happened to your mom?”
“I came in and it was so quiet. It’s never quiet, you know? She always has the TV on so loud because she’s like deaf. I looked around, couldn’t find her… until I looked in her room.”
“Bailey. You’re freaking me out.”
“She’s in the tub. Just… moaning. In pain. I can barely get her to reply to me.”
“In the bathtub?”
She nods. “It’s bad, Westin. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I just… I don’t know. I guess I’m panicking.”
I put my hands on her shoulder and gently squeeze. “Listen to me. It’s going to be okay. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” she says back, looking into my eyes.
“Okay. Wait here.”
I hurry back to my car. I pop open the trunk and grab the black emergency bag I keep back there, just in case I ever need it. I have some things most normal people wouldn’t carry, including some serious prescription painkillers.
You never know when you’ll need them.
I head back inside and follow Bailey up the steps. Her mother’s room is at the far end of the hall, the big master bedroom. The door to the bathroom is cracked open, just a bit, and I can hear someone groaning inside.
“Mom?” Bailey calls out. “Mom, Dr. Turner’s here,” she says.
“Westin?” A groan from inside.
“Myra, it’s me,” I say loudly. “I’m coming in to check on you. Is that okay?”
“Oh, Westin, oh. I’m… I’m in the tub.”
“It’s okay, Myra. I’ve seen naked women before. You don’t sound good and I want to check on you.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds. I’m about to burst in when she finally speaks.
“Okay. Come in.”
I glance at Bailey then softly open the door.
Myra’s lying in the tub, the water half filled. She’s pale, with a towel behind her neck. I kneel down next to her and pull a small flashlight from my bag.
“How are you, Myra?”
She groans a little. “Been better.”
I flash the light in her eyes. Pupils react. Good. “What happened?”
“I got in the tub… I thought it might help… I think I fell asleep.”
“Okay. And your pain?”
“I can’t move.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Because it hurts or because you really can’t move?”
“Hurts.”
I glance at Bailey and sigh. “Okay. It sounds like you got yourself in a bad position, fell asleep, and your spine locked there. We’re going to have to get you out of the tub, Myra.”
“Oh, no,” she groans. “Please. Don’t move me.”
“Listen. You can’t stay there.” I pull a pill bottle from my bag. “Take one of these.”?
“What is it?”
“Percocet. It should dull the pain. Are you allergic to any medications that you know of?”
“No,” she grumbles.
“Bailey, water, please?”
Bailey walks to the sink and fills a small paper cup with water. She hands it to me.
“Open,” I say to Myra.
She groans. “This is humiliating.”