Page 2

Chapter 2

Jahmar

O k, so I may have told an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny lie to my future husband. He asked if there was a dead body in my trunk, and well, there was a body in my trunk, but my patient’s alive and kicking, albeit heavily sedated. It’s better this way; I can’t stand it when they scream. I tried that once when I started—it didn’t work out. When I’m holding a scalpel, it’s the only time I feel calm, and hearing a grown man scream like a toddler having a tantrum really kills the vibe, and I am here for the vibes.

It was fun teasing Anders, though. Getting him all in a tizzy is my new favourite hobby. I’ve been biding my time with him. He doesn’t seem like the type to be easily seduced. It took every ounce of my self-control not to ravage him in the lift.

Underneath that grumpy little frown and air of indifference, there’s a sweet, fluffy marshmallow just waiting to be chomped on. I’ve seen how he is with Femi. He has a soft spot for her, and I have no doubt he could have a soft spot for me…with a little push and shove.

That being said, I’m not sure he’d be able to handle who I am and what I do on the side, so until I retire from this gig my little lion and I will have to keep sharing these fleeting moments like star-crossed lovers.

I pushed it tonight, though, getting all up in his personal space. But how dare he get those cute highlights. His baby blues popped before, now they’re like looking up at the night sky with zero light pollution.

A muffled groan comes from the bedroom. I hastily scrub my hands, getting right in between my fingers like they taught us in medical school. Luckily, I gagged the fucker before bringing him up, but maybe I was a little light on the sedatives. I was in such a hurry to get him out of there. I’d never usually perform procedures at my apartment. It’s a risky game to play, but my clinic is off-limits for the time being. I’d like to call it a clinic, but if I’m being frank, it’s a run-down factory. Just as I was about to start the procedure, some homeless people decided to set up camp, so I had no choice but to move my operations.

I amble into the room and round the bed. I’ve used medical restraints to hold him down, so his violent thrashing is a wasted effort.

“Oh, look what we have here, a live one.” I smile behind my surgical mask. I’m being cruel, but I may as well have some fun with the sick fuck.

He tries to scream against the gag and wiggles like a maggot on a hook.

I’m in full scrubs, and my face is covered; I doubt he’ll be able to identify me. He must be confused, but that’s even better. I thrive off his fear. The next time he wakes up, he’ll be forever changed.

Honestly, what I’m doing is a public service; the government should be thanking me for taking care of the scum they refuse to handle.

I squeeze the syringe and watch the clear liquid seep into his veins, then count back from ten. As each number passes, his body becomes more lax, and his eyes flicker, fighting against going under. By the time I get to three, he’s already in Lala land.

Hasta la vista, baby.

I groan into my pillow as the high-pitched ringtone drags me from my slumber. Eyes still half closed, I fumble on the bedside table for my phone.

“Hello,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes to clear them of sleep.

“Hey, Jay-Jay. Are you alright? You sound funny.”

Sitting up against the headboard, I roll my neck, releasing some tension. I’m in good shape, but lugging unconscious men around takes its toll on the old lats.

Last night was a late one. My patient was a bleeder and made a real mess. Then I had to wait for Anders and Femi to clock off so I could take the trunk out. I have no doubt he would’ve freaked out if he saw me with that trunk again after my poor humour last night.

It was a nightmare. I can’t keep bringing patients here; I’ll have to scout out a new place to perform procedures before my next job.

“Are you still there, son?”

“Yep, sorry, Mum. Just woke up. I had a late night.”

“My gosh, you need to stop taking on so many hours. I keep telling you that you should finish your surgical training. The hours will be much nicer once you’re fully qualified.”

I’m kind of sick of having this conversation with her. It’s been three years since I ‘lost’ my job and became a locum doctor full-time. It’s better this way. If anyone gets suspicious, I can keep a low profile and move on from hospitals.

That’s not to say it doesn’t make my stomach twist when I go home to see her, and she gushes about how proud she is of me and how one day I’ll be a surgeon.

“Yep, sure, one day. I’m enjoying the locum work for now. It’s flexible and I like picking my own hours.” I almost believe the lie myself with how seamless I sound. Becoming a surgeon was a lifelong dream of mine until it was stolen from me.

“Fine. Well, if you ever change your mind, I can help you reapply.”

Mum and Dad worked together in a hospital for over thirty years. Mum adored her job as a nurse, but when Dad suddenly passed away from a heart attack, she couldn’t bear to go back to work without him there and took early retirement. She’s more than comfortable financially due to his life insurance policy and their pensions.

“I know, thanks, Mum. Honestly, I’m good for now.”

“Hmm, ok, if you say so, son. I just want you to be happy. The last thing I want is you running yourself into the ground like your dad did.”

My heart clenches at her weighted words. I’m running myself into the ground, but in a much more sinister way than she could ever imagine.

“Mum, please, drop it. How’s Aunty Julie? I heard she got herself a new fella?”

Swiftly changing the subject to gossip does the trick. Mum prattles on for another half an hour, filling me in on all the drama from back home and being her genuinely cheerful self. I love this woman. I’ll do anything to protect her from harm or even my own secrets. She lost one man she loved, and I refuse to obliterate the idea of the perfect son she has. It’s why I need to wrap this shit up. Just a few months and I can move on. I can finally let go and close this chapter of my life.