Ghostface Killer ~ M. Never

by Never, M.

  “Business?” he asks dauntingly as I roll down the window. I look him in the eyes, showing no fear, guilt, or intimidation. Eye contact always reduces suspicion.

  I open my mouth to speak, but Baz beats me to it.

  “Open the fucking gates, Maverick.” The guard inspects the passenger seat promptly, and when he realizes who Baz is, he smiles.

  “What the fuck happened, man? You look like you’re going through puberty.”

  Baz chuckles as he rubs his stubbly chin. He looks so much younger without his thick beard. Almost like a completely different person. “Fuck you, joker.”

  The guard grins, but it’s barely noticeable. He’s maintaining his professionalism. Or at least trying. “Is he home?” Baz asks.

  “On his way. Business in the city,” Maverick informs him, then slides a suspicious glance at me.

  “She’s good. She’s with me,” Baz nearly snarls.

  Maverick nods without another word, any humor wiped from his face. It makes me feel fractionally better that Baz has some weight to throw around when it comes to his uncle’s employees. But not nearly enough to calm my thumping pulse. It’s pounding so loudly in my ears I worry if anyone else can hear it.

  A moment later, the massive gates swing open, and I roll onto the gravel drive, heading straight for the front door of the lion’s den.

  Minutes pass before the breathtaking residence majestically rises like the morning sun over the manicured parking quarter.

  Wow. Words escape me. I’ve only been to the Hamptons a handful of times. It’s an elite part of New York the rich and famous frequent. Especially during the summer. I’ve seen some impressive homes, but none like this. This estate screams power and stature. It screams importance, and even a bit of intimidation.

  Actually, a lotta intimidation. I feel like I shrink when I step out of the truck.

  “Ready?” Baz takes my hand and inhales a sharp breath. The wound is clearly hurting him. I worry incessantly. About him and myself. And the precious cargo I carry around everywhere.

  Am I ready? Is anyone ever ready to walk the green mile?

  I place my hand over my stomach as Baz rings the bell. He has barely pulled his hand away from the button when the massive door swings open.

  “Master Benjamin!” A tall, lean, gray-haired man in a butler get-up greets us.

  “Frederick.” Baz smiles as we enter the house.

  “I wasn’t informed you were coming.” Frederick buzzes around Baz and me. He sounds like he’s British.

  “I didn’t exactly call ahead.” Baz puts his arm around me, and I notice blood seeping through his shirt.

  “He needs to see a doctor,” I blurt out.

  Both men look down at me, and that’s when they both notice the blood, too.

  “Shit,” Baz spits. My patch job has run its course.

  Frederick extends Baz a worried look, but he doesn’t ask any questions. He just ushers us into a sitting room off the foyer and orders us to stay put.

  Baz takes a seat on one of the white, plush couches. He’s most definitely going to leave a blood stain.

  The whole house is decorated in white, walls, furniture, and trim. It’s warm, bright, and airy. The black floor and matching built-in bookcases ground the ethereal decor. It’s so regal. So high end, and very impressive.

  “The doctor will be here any minute.” Frederick enters the room carrying a silver tray. On it, a magnificent silver tea set, a small jar of honey, and a dish of assorted teas. He places the tray on the table in front of Baz while I pace the room.

  “We haven’t been formally introduced.” Frederick turns to me and bows slightly.

  “This is Stevie,” Baz takes it upon himself to make the introductions. “My fiancée.”

  Frederick pauses in his bowed state and looks up at me with just his eyes. I share his surprise. Neither Baz nor I have ever used that term before, and for him to toss it out so freely is extraordinarily gratifying.

  “It’s an esteemed pleasure to meet you, Miss Stevie.” Frederick bows lower, and I glance over at Baz. No one has ever bowed to me before. Baz just smiles weakly. Approvingly.

  “The feeling is mutual,” I reply.

  “Would you like to share with me what happened now?” Frederick directs his question to Baz. Worry and concern clearly written all over his long, narrow face.

  “We were ambushed. Stevie and I were staying at the safe house upstate, and they found us.” Baz closes his eyes and rests his head on the back of the couch. Both Frederick and I take a worried step forward.

  “Baz?” I utter. He cracks open his eyes.

  “I didn’t pass out. But I feel like I’m going to.”

  “Should I ring Master Gianni?”

  “Not to alarm him. But maybe to let him know we’re here.”

  “Of course.” Frederick nods just as the doorbell rings. “That would be the doctor.” He scurries out of the room.

  I sit by Baz’s side as we wait. Brushing some renegade strands of hair out of his eyes, I put on a brave face.

  “Doctor Levinstein,” Frederick announces as he and another older man enter the room.

  From the looks of it, Dr. Levinstein just got out bed. He’s wearing silk pajama pants and a black sweater.

  It’s nothing unusual to have a doctor on call. Benny had two on his payroll. Many times, hospital visits are out of the question. As in Baz’s case. Too many headaches and too many red flags. In this business, you operate underground. No questions asked or your tongue gets cut out.

  “Benjamin, long time no see.” The doctor places his leather bag on the floor next to us and pushes his thick, black-rimmed glasses up his nose.

  “Hey, Doc.” Baz tracks his movements.

  “What do we have here?” The doctor pulls Baz’s shirt up and over his head, revealing the bloody gauze on his shoulder.

  “Gunshot,” I answer for Baz.

  “I see.” Dr. Levinstein clinically removes the bandage to take a look. “Straight through?” He repositions Baz so he can examine his back.

  “Yes. Clean shot.”

  “Mmmm. It looks very clean. You patched him up?” the doctor asks me.

  “I did my best to stop the bleeding and dress it.” Dr. Levinstein scrutinizes me. I want to shrink. Does he suspect something? Do I look guilty? What does he see? Being in this fucking house is beginning to stress me out.

  “You did well.” He redirects his focus back to Baz. “We’ll have to clean you up a little better and disinfect the openings. When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

  Baz curls his lip. “I couldn’t tell you.”

  “You’re getting one tonight.”

  “Fantastic,” he replies dryly.

  Before Dr. Levinstein starts working on Baz, he checks his temperature, blood pressure, and heart rate. His temp is normal, but blood pressure and heart rate are low, as to be expected after a ballistic fucking trauma. Luckily, they’re not so low it’s life threatening.

  “Can I get you anything?” Frederick asks Dr. Levinstein as he stands at attention in the corner of the room.

  “Some fresh towels, Frederick, please, and some warm water.”

  “Right away.” Frederick disappears promptly.

  Baz begins to ramble as the doctor works on him. “Frederick has worked for Gianni since before I was born. He’s one of my uncle’s most loyal employees.”

  Dr. Levinstein grunts. “This guy is, too. They’ve both taken care of me for as long as I can remember.” Baz laughs.

  “It’s been a long time since I treated you like this. I think the last time was when you were sixteen and you broke your arm in one of those underground fights your uncle told you to stay away from.” Dr. Levinstein peers at Baz over the rim of his glasses.

  “You used to fight?” I ask, intrigued.

  “I told you. I tried to be someone I’m not.” There’s a tightness in Baz’s tone. That must have been when he was trying to be more like Benny. To get his attent
ion. To gain his respect. And his love.

  “You found your way,” Levinstein attests.

  “It made me tougher, can’t deny that.”

  “I won’t.” The doctor purses his lips in clear disapproval.

  Frederick returns with the towels and water just as Dr. Levinstein finishes disinfecting the wound on Baz’s back.

  He wipes away the remaining dried blood then quickly dries his skin and dresses the wounds way better than I ever could. The gauze he uses is three times thicker and fluffier than the kind I could get my hands on.

  “You’ll have to change the dressing periodically. Are you staying here? I can leave instructions with Frederick.”

  “Yes.” Baz glances over at me. “We’ll be here a little while.”

  “Very good.” Dr. Levinstein reaches into his bag and retrieves a syringe. “Moment of truth.”

  Baz makes a throw up face as he looks away from the needle.

  “Are you afraid of shots?” I ask, surprised by his reaction.

  “I fucking hate needles.” Dr. Levinstein doesn’t even warn him before he hit him in the arm. Baz groans as he clenches his jaw, the color in his cheeks draining.

  “You have a tattoo. How did you survive that?”

  “Lots of alcohol,” he retorts.

  “The pediatrician used to have to chase him around the office,” Frederick reminisces. “Baz was quite the rambunctious child.”

  “So I’ve been told.” I can’t help but smile as I rub my thumb back and forth over my belly. My tunic shirt hiding the small bulge for now.

  Dr. Levinstein removes his latex gloves, places them in a plastic bag, and then discards them in his medical bag before clearing his throat.

  “Frederick, can I have a moment alone with Benjamin and . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name, young lady.”

  “Stevie,” I offer.

  “Stevie,” he politely repeats.

  “Of course. Is there anything I can get anyone before I go?”

  I run through a laundry list of things in my mind. Food, water, sanity, a shower, bed, ten fluffy pillows, and a week of uninterrupted sleep. But I think that’s a bit much to ask, so I just shake my head.

  I watch Frederick leave the room, preparing for whatever news Dr. Levinstein is going to give

  about Baz.

  He looks at me pointedly. “How far along are you?”

  “Excuse me?” I glance nervously between him and Baz.

  “How many months pregnant?” he clarifies, speaking slowly so I understand.

  “How how’d you know I was pregnant?” I ask, alarmed.

  “Because I have been a doctor longer than you have been alive. I recognize the signs. You haven’t stopped clutching your belly since I’ve been here.” I look down at my abdomen, not even realizing what I’d been doing. “Is it yours?” the straightforward doctor asks Baz.

  “Of course, it’s mine. Stevie is my fiancée.” Baz nearly bites his head off.

  “Just fact checking.” Levinstein isn’t put off by Baz. “I hadn’t heard of your engagement.”

  “We haven’t announced anything yet. Things have been a little turbulent lately,” Baz informs him guardedly.

  “I see.” Levinstein pushes his glasses up his nose. “Have you been examined?”

  I drop my eyes. “No, I haven’t seen a doctor yet.” I wrap my arms protectively around my stomach. That’s the worst news to deliver. I know how neglectful it sounds, but it’s not like I had the luxury to just call up and make an appointment like a normal woman. I’m not normal.

  “Mmm,” the doctor muses. “Do you have any idea how far along you are?”

  “About six months. We conceived early November.”

  “You’re positive?” He raises his thick eyebrows.

  I sneak another glance at Baz. “One hundred percent.” I’m pretty sure he knocked me up the first time we had sex.

  “Do you mind if I do a quick examination?” he inquires delicately.

  “No.” I don’t object at all.

  Dr. Levinstein grabs his stethoscope from his leather bag and kneels next to where I’m sitting.

  “Lean back and lift your shirt, please.”

  I pull up the hem of my black-and blue-checkered shirt and expose my little pot belly.

  Levinstein moves the scope around my stomach several different places, listening. “Have you felt any discomfort?”

  “Does horrific morning sickness count?”

  “Are you still having it?” He slides his brown eyes up to mine.

  “No.”

  “Do you feel the baby moving at all?”

  He pulls the earplugs out and hangs the stethoscope around his neck.

  “Flutters sometimes.”

  “You didn’t tell me that.” Baz frowns.

  “It just started happening.”

  “It should around the sixth month. I’m going to send over an ultrasound machine tomorrow, and we’ll have a proper look. I’m also going to set you up with an OB. She’ll do all your examinations here, if you prefer.”

  I look at Baz, and he nods gravely. “I think that will be best.”

  Me too.

  “Fine then.” Dr. Levinstein stands. “I’ll call ahead before I come and set up an appointment with Dr. Miranda. She’s the best in the area and extremely discreet.”

  “Thanks.” Baz’s eyes follow Levinstein’s movements, but he doesn’t move from the couch.

  “Anything for the family, Benjamin. You know that.” The doctor cracks a small smile, his thin lips look like a squiggly line. He then picks up his bag to leave.

  “Oh!” My abrupt outburst stops him before he disappears. “Baz, your meds? Can he get them?”

  Levinstein spins on his heel. “You don’t have your medication?” He seems to know exactly what I’m talking about.

  “We sort of left where we were staying in a hurry,” I allude to Baz’s gunshot wound.

  “Understood. I’ll take care of it. Expect a delivery tomorrow.”

  With that he leaves.

  I look at Baz questioningly.

  “Dr. Levinstein has been treating me my whole life,” he explains. “He knows every written word of my medical history. Hell, he penned most of them. If it wasn’t for him . . .” Baz trails off, staring at the vacant doorway. “I don’t know what would have happened to me.”

  “He seems very attuned.” I reposition myself closer to Baz. He puts his arm around me as I snuggle up next to him.

  “He’s sharper than a tack.” He grimaces as he shifts.

  “Is this uncomfortable?”

  “No, it’s just both my shoulders hurt now.” He pouts like a grown child.

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t be such a cupcake.”

  “I like cupcakes. Especially red velvet, with lots of cream cheese icing to smear all over your naked body.” His smile is wily.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You would never ingest that much sugar.”

  Baz chuckles. “If I get to lick it off you, I’d make an exception.” He tilts my chin up for a kiss, but our intimate moment is interrupted when Frederick walks back into the room. He clears his throat apologetically.

  “I just received word Master Gianni is on his way home and eager to speak with you.”

  My stomach bottoms out at the mention of Gianni’s name.

  “I’m sure he is.” Baz drops his head back on the couch. “Can you get Stevie set up in one of the spare bedrooms while I wait for him. The back left one, maybe?” He talks to the ceiling.

  “Of course.” Frederick nods zealously.

  “You don’t want me to stay and wait with you?”

  “You’ve been driving for hours.” Baz lifts his head. “You look exhausted. Go get some sleep. I’ll try not to be long.”

  I’m torn between leaving him and passing out. I’m so tired but hesitant to leave Baz’s side.

  “I’ll stay with him, Miss Stevie, after I show you upstairs. There’s nothing to worry about. Master Be
njamin is in expert hands.” Frederick offers a reassuring smile. I believe his sincerity.

  “Go on, baby. Go to bed. Make it warm for me,” Baz encourages lovingly, coiling a lock of my hair around his finger.

  Conflicted, I glance between Baz and Frederick before I finally concede. “Okay.” I steal a kiss from Baz before I get up. It’s technically not stolen since he hands over the warm, lingering embrace freely.

  Just before Fredrick and I leave the room, Baz’s voice floats through the air.

  “Frederick, is Desmond here?”

  “No, sir. He accompanied Master Gianni to the city.”

  “Ah, okay.”

  “Who’s Desmond?” I ask Frederick as we climb the shiny black staircase.

  “My son. He also works for Master Gianni. He and Master Benjamin are close in age. They grew up in this house together.”

  “I see.” Baz never mentioned him. But I remind myself Baz and I still have a lot to learn about each other.

  We can spend the rest of our lives getting to know each other.

  I play with each of my rings as I follow Frederick down the white hallway. Jumping back and forth between the white and yellow gold, I twist and turn the metal around my fingers compulsively. From this part of the house, you can hear the waves lapping against the shore. I’m sure to anyone else, the sound would be relaxing. It just reminds me Gianni has a massive body of water readily available to dump my body.

  “This should suffice.” Frederick flings open a pair of white double doors.

  “I think suffice is an understatement, Frederick.” I walk into the spacious room. Like the rest of the house, it’s decorated in all white. The furniture, the bed linens, and the flowy curtains. But the waft of the sea breeze through the bay windows gives this room a completely different feel. I close my eyes as the air caresses my skin like an invisible piece of silk. The smell of the salt infusing the room. I inhale so deeply my lungs expand. For a fraction of a second I find serenity.

  “There are spare towels and a robe in the bathroom. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ring.” An appeased smirk dances across his lips.

  “Thank you.” I tuck some hair behind my ears modestly. New place, new people. It takes a minute to get used to it all.

  “Night, miss.” Frederick backs out of the room, closing the double doors with a soft click.