I watched as he left his car with a smile on his face and entered the hospital. Minutes later, I found myself outside his office, thinking crazy shit. I was sinking further and further.
There was so much misplaced hate boiling inside of me that it was only right that I found someone to focus that hate on. It was logical to be upset with the hospital, to be upset with the cardiologist. He could’ve saved her. He should’ve saved her.
My raw hate for the man who watched Chelsea take her last breath without even trying to help, helped me make it through the rest of my day.
Day to day, it grew until I was nearly blinded by my rage for him. The pain I felt was his fault and he deserved to feel this kind of hurt. He deserved it and more. Stalking him made me feel better—more alive. As long as I was focusing on the doctor, I didn’t have to think about the fact that my daughter was no longer with me.
It wasn’t fair that he was still walking around smiling. Soon just hating him wasn’t enough; I needed more. I couldn’t stand it and I had to do something, anything, to breathe again. It was in that moment that I made a decision. The doctor had to go.
8
Sin
Hospitals aren’t careful with their files. That was the reason I was able to find Dr. Gelding, aka the child killer, so easily. I became sick with the desire to watch him live his life. I’d watch as he walked to his expensive Mercedes Benz, and then like the crazy person I knew I was turning out to be, I’d follow him to his massive house and watch him go inside.
I did this every day for a week. I knew his schedule well. I couldn’t believe how boring his life was. Knowing that he didn’t fully live his when Chelsea hadn’t had enough time to find the joy in living hers was too much. He didn’t deserve life any more than she deserved death.
I was starting to scare myself with my thought processes, but I was obsessed. I knew deep down that I should seek help. I wasn’t a stupid man. I knew I was sick in the head, but I’d never asked for help before. Why bother now?
The blink of light and a low hiss of surging electricity buzzed above me as I watched the neon sign for the hole-in-the-wall Chinese place flash. It was dark and the streets were nearly empty. It wasn’t exactly the perfect setting for a nightly stroll with your lover, but it was perfectly cliché for the reason I was there.
I matched the address on the piece of paper to the building, confirming for the tenth time that it was correct. Checking my watch, I noted that he was twenty minutes late and there was a bad feeling crawling up my spine, tingling at my neckline.
A boom of obnoxious laughter across the street momentarily caught my attention. A group of guys moved down the sidewalk, getting louder as they got closer. I pulled the collar of my jack up and around the lower part of my face, avoiding eye contact. I was there for one reason and one reason only. I didn’t want to attract any attention, but I looked like a creeper standing there alone.
One of the guys, wearing a big black jacket and his pants under his ass, caught my gaze as he watched me closely. I’m sure what was meant to be a look of intimidation locked the features of his thin face. I kept it natural as I watched him pass. Not once did I turn my back to him. He lifted his hand toward me, two fingers pointed out and his thumb in the air before flicking his wrist.
“Comforting, isn’t it?”
The low, gritty voice came from behind me, but I didn’t turn around until the group was fading into the darkness.
“You’re late,” I snapped, finally facing the man.
He wasn’t at all what I expected to find, but then again, I wasn’t really sure what I expected him to look like.
“I needed to make sure you were legit.”
“And?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Besides, Frank said you were trustworthy.”
“That’s not saying much since I wouldn’t say the same for Frank.”
There’s always that one friend you have from high school that continues his bad boy ways through college and into adulthood. Frank was the notorious drug dealer in my old group of friends, and he still was. His connections actually came in handy for once.
“Lucky for you, I don’t feel the same way.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn-out hoodie and looked up at me with bloodshot eyes.
His face was thin. I’m sure it was the effects of the massive amounts of poison he ingested into his body on a daily basis. Damn drug addicts. He twitched nervously at the way I watched him, and with bony fingers, he pushed back the messy strands of greasy hair from his face.
“Lucky me, right.” I scoffed.
“Do you have the money?” He demanded impatiently, looking around shiftily.
He couldn’t have been more obvious.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have the money.” I pulled two thick envelopes from my pocket. I just wanted to get it over with. “Are we going to do this or what?” I asked when he still hadn’t moved to deliver his part of the deal.
He seemed hesitant before he pulled out a large envelope from the inside of his jacket and handed to me.
“It’s everything you need to start over again. Who said money can’t buy second chances, right?”
I didn’t say anything as we made the switch. Opening the envelope, I fingered the documents, making sure they were all there. Satisfied, I tucked it into my jacket.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“No, thank you,” he cooed, running his thumb across the money. He smiled at me, showing off a set of rotted teeth.
I pointed to the second envelope I gave him. “Inside there is all the details you need to finish out agreement.”
“You just don’t forget the rest of my money.” He drawled. “By the way, my name’s Carl.”
“Don’t fuck this up, Carl.”
I pulled on the baseball cap I was wearing, bringing it down low over my eyes, and nodded, getting into my car.
“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” He yelled through my window, but I ignored him.
I tossed and turned all night, but that wasn’t anything new. I was ready for everything to be over with. When I was free of him, I’d be free of the monsters, free of the nightmares, free of me.
9
Sin
The following Saturday, Dr. Gelding had the day off. There wasn’t much I didn’t know about the doctor. What I hadn’t figured out by following him, the internet provided.
Today was the day. It was now or never. He was scheduled to leave for London to visit a dying brother the following day. A simple call to his office and a little sweet-talking to his secretary confirmed his travel plans. He wouldn’t be on that plane, and his dying brother wouldn’t have the comfort of his good-byes.
I sat in my car a few spots down from his house, waiting and mentally going through my checklist. Several trips to Home Depot had taken care of everything I needed to pull it off. I hadn’t thought it wise to buy duct tape, plastic wrap, a shovel, and poison in one trip. It was all tucked away in the trunk of my car. I shifted in my seat when he walked out of his house, locking up.
Zero-two-one-two, I repeated in my head. It was the code to his security system.
He was all dressed up. He had a dinner date with someone tonight and by his demeanor, he was excited about it.
Following him, I ended up at a fancy restaurant on the other side of town. Parking my car across the street, I watched as he got out in front of the valet service and pocketed his ticket as he disappeared into the restaurant. The valet took his car, parking it behind an empty building next to the restaurant.
Patiently waiting in my car, I switched through the radio stations as if everything were normal and I wasn’t about to kidnap the man who’d killed my daughter.
Two hours later, he finally pushed through the doors. Hands in his pockets, he wore a hint of a smile. His body swayed slightly and I knew it was the sign of expensive liquor flowing through his system. He looked back at the doors of the restaurant and I frowned. He was waiting for someone. For
the first time I felt a surge of panic. What if he was planning on bringing whoever it was home with him?
The valet kid approached him and took his ticket. Before he could scramble off to fetch the car, the doctor stopped him, asking him a question. The kid pointed in the direction his car was parked. I didn’t know what was going on as they exchanged more words before the kid turned around and grabbed something from the podium. He handed it to the doctor and I caught the flash of light from his keys. He was going to walk to his car.
I made a quick decision and pulled the keys from the ignition and got out of my car. He couldn’t bring someone home with him. I needed to get creative. I waited for the traffic to clear before I jogged across the street and pulled my hoodie over my head.
Once I was at the corner of the restaurant, I could hear the music coming from inside, the laughing people on the patio, and I could smell the food. I took a step and then another in the doctor’s direction. His back was to me, which would’ve made it easier to do what I needed.
The door to the restaurant opened and laughter followed the group coming outside. It distracted me and my steps slowed. For the first time since I started following him, the doctor smiled a real smile. He was looking toward the group of people and I couldn’t pick out which person he was smiling at.
And then she stepped out from them and made her way over to him. Her smile lit up the dark night. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a professional ponytail. Diamond studs sparkled in her ears as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
When she backed away, her smile reached her soft-blue eyes and knocked the breath from my lungs. She was extraordinary—beautiful from the tip of her dark waves, past her perfect upturned nose and full lips, all the way past her white dress that fit her entirely too perfectly.
Her European skin against the crisp white fabric made the dress appear as if it were glowing. She was glowing. She was happy to see the man I despised so deeply, and it pissed me off more that he had someone in his life that looked at him with such love and I didn’t. It didn’t matter who she was to him—girlfriend, wife, baby sister, daughter, co-worker… none of that mattered. He had someone as lovely as her.
She leaned up and kissed his cheek before they made their way toward me. I was frozen in my place as they got closer, stopping next to me. Both of them seemed oblivious to my existence. I finally found the will to move and I took a step away from them.
Their conversation was whispered and then she laughed and the sound was like a caress. Their good-byes were louder, giving me time to prepare myself. I waited a second before turning around. I had a plan to follow, but instead, I ran right into her, whoever she was.
A startled sound exploded from her soft lips as we collided. She swayed against me and my first instinct was to reach out and hold her, but she grabbed onto my arms first.
“Sorry.” She sighed an apology and the faint smell of something smooth and out of my price range swirled around my head. “I never drink this much. Good thing I’m taking a cab, huh?” She rambled on without noticing my lack of response.
Smiling up at me, she blew a piece of flyaway hair from the side of her mouth. I was attacked with the same rich smell, and the sudden need for a drink, preferably from her, was strong enough to make me do something even more stupid.
“I don’t normally drink this much. I said that already, didn’t I? I don’t normally talk this much,” she said as if we’d just had an entire conversation, and then she seemed to realize her hands were still on me, something I didn’t have the luxury of forgetting. “Sorry,” she said again, letting go of my arms. Moving away from her, I set temptation out of the way.
My silence didn’t seem to put her off. She continued to smile at me, her eyes sparkling. If only she knew the kind of person she was really looking at.
“Good night,” she whispered and walked around me.
I knew if I left right then, I could still catch the doctor before he got to his car. I could still follow him home like I’d planned. Turning around toward the girl, I watched as she stood on the curb, hailing a cab. I was there for the doctor. I was there because my hate for him was too strong to deny, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from the girl.
She slid into the back seat and our eyes connected through the glass as the cab waited to pull into traffic. And then something happened that I didn’t expect. A part of me I thought was gone forever responded.
My heart beat.
I quickly snapped out of it and made my way back to my car. I cranked up my engine, knowing what had to be done, but for some unknown reason, when the cab finally pulled out, it was her that I followed.
10
Emily
“And how does that make you feel?” I asked, crossing my legs and scribbling in my notebook.
It was the typical question from a therapist, but I’d found it actually did help to find out more about my patient’s feelings. If I could relate to their problems, I was meeting them on an emotional level they needed, and it comforted them to know I understood what they were feeling.
“It makes me feel like I can’t breathe. When I think about him, my heart hurts and I feel like I’m dying,” Elaine said.
She was one of the first patients I’d ever had. She suffered from panic disorder and, as of late, loneliness. I hadn’t really made much progress with her until her husband passed away a few months ago. She was grieving him, and somehow it was making her open up more.
Later, after I’d spent the day with several of my patients, I was making my way to dinner with my dad. It was a routine we’d created over the years. Him being a doctor as well, he was easy to talk to about the hectic life I led. Not only that, he understood the job and my time restraints.
Growing up, I always thought of my father as some kind of super hero. I adored him and despite his long hours and absent parenting, I loved that he saved people’s lives for a living.
As a little girl, I wanted to be just like him. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized everything that came with being a doctor. It wasn’t all smiles and awards like my father painted it to be.
Just like anything, there was a dark side, and sorrowfully, I learned not everyone could be saved.
In my senior year, I spent more time at the hospital. It was fascinating getting to observe everyone. If I could’ve stayed the long hours my father did, I would have.
During one of my regular after-school visits, a family came in through the ER. I’d never seen so much blood in my life, not even during my many visits to the ER. A father, with a look I’d never forget, carried a small, limp boy in his arms.
The family was Hispanic. The father, dark skinned with a thick, black mustache that covered his entire upper lip, was crying something in Spanish. No matter how loud my brain screamed for me to look away, I couldn’t take my eyes off the little boy he carried.
His dark hair was smeared with blood and stuck to his forehead. His head hung over the father’s arms and his eyes were closed. He’d been hit by a car while riding his bike. The car had fled the scene. I knew before I saw my father rush from the back that the boy was dead.
It was enough to traumatize anyone my age, but it wasn’t the actual death that I had a hard time accepting. It was the total and complete devastation on the boy’s family’s faces. I couldn’t accept the heartache that came with knowing a family member would never see their loved one again.
Of course I knew death happened. I’d just never actually seen it happen. It changed everything for me that day. I knew what my father was doing was important. The sick and injured patients, they were important. But what about those behind the scenes? Who took care of the family of the patients when they faced a loss no one could understand?
That night I cried in my father’s arms and begged him to never leave me. It was a promise meant to be broken. Time was the only thing we had that wasn’t a hundred percent guaranteed, but it made me feel better anyway.
The next morning I told
my father I didn’t know if I wanted to be a doctor anymore. It was a lie, of course. I knew I didn’t want to be a doctor anymore. It’s not that I didn’t think I could handle death. I could. I just knew I wanted to help others with it.
He wasn’t happy with me at first, but he got over it. After I got my degree, I was happy working as a grievance counselor at the hospital my father worked at, but he wasn’t so content. He thought it was a waste of my degree, and he wanted me to do more. So I appeased him and became a therapist. I knew I could always go back if I wanted to.
Of course, not every patient could be helped. Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way. Fresh out of school, and my first month at the hospital, I was young and thought I could save everyone from grief. I was wrong.
A patient, Mr. Valentine, who’d suffered from the death of his wife was my second case. He refused to believe she was gone, and after weeks of seeing me, he didn’t seem to be getting any better. My father told me he was a lost cause, to write him off and hand him off to a psyche ward, but I was stubborn. I wasn’t ready to give up on him.
A month after his wife passed, he came to me, barging in on another session. He swore his wife was still alive, and the hospital was keeping her from him. He wouldn’t leave until I followed him to the room she’d stayed in for two weeks before her death.
When he found new patients in the room, he snapped, scaring everyone in the room and fighting against the hospital staff when they tried to escort him out. I realized I’d been wrong, and I wasn’t doing him any good. So I signed off on his papers. Defeat was a bitter taste in my mouth, and after that I decided it was a good night to get drunk.
I was leaving later than I normally did, so the hospital was quiet. Stepping onto the elevator, I was so wrapped up in my phone that I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone.
“Hello, Dr. Gelding.”
I made a startled sound and caught myself on the wall of the elevator. I covered my racing heart with my other hand and turned around. Panic prickled the back of my neck when I spotted a bottle in his hand.
The Wrath of Sin Page 3