Page 9 of The Criminal’s Cure

Maybe I hit my head in all the commotion of the day.

Or maybe I have an undiagnosed brain tumor.

I’ve seen it before, how a tumor alters the way a person would normally think and they make all kinds of rash or out-of-character decisions.

It’s got to be something like that because nothing short of a traumatic brain injury or a tumor justifies what I agreed to.

I wake up in a panic the next morning, not recognizing the bed I’m in as I stare at the ceiling fan spinning above me. Briefly, I consider I might still be dreaming and not awake at all, but then pieces come back.

The shooting. Roman kidnapping me. Me stupidly agreeing to work for him. God, what was I thinking?

Unfortunately, I know exactly what I was thinking.

I was thinking about the rent that’s due in ten days and how I’ll pay it out of my negative account.

I was thinking about the hundreds of thousands of dollars in student loan debt that I haven’t touched.

I was thinking how nice it would be to have my pick of cushy jobs at St. Luke’s once all this is through.

I was thinking how good it would feel to do this all on my own, without having to grovel back to my parents for help.

And I was thinking that Roman Molanari isn’t exactly the worst thing I can spend my days looking at.

And so I signed a deal with the devil.

That may be an exaggeration because after our less than stellar introduction, Roman settled down quite a bit.

He made me dinner, and we actually had a conversation without either of us wanting to gauge the other’s eyes out.

Afterwards, he set me up in a luxurious guest room suite.

The bathroom alone is bigger than my entire apartment, and it’s got three enormous windows that overlook a beautiful lake and flower garden.

It’s the bed that really does it for me, though.

After months on my paper-thin mattress, this one feels like I’m sleeping on clouds, and the blankets are so buttery soft and cozy that I’m positive I’ve never had a better night’s sleep in my life.

And maybe it’s the sleep that has me thinking so clearly today.

Beyond all the money and fancy things, I know I got played.

He’s a master manipulator, and he offered a deal that I couldn’t refuse.

Roman knew what he was doing, and he got exactly what he wanted.

Part of me doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but it’s not like I’m getting screwed here.

If I can just get through these next six months, my life will be drastically different.

Since Joe’s family death story got me out of work, I spend the next few days getting used to things at Roman’s. His men help me move my things, and I turn my apartment keys in to my landlord.

His request that I stay there seems extreme, but I don’t complain. The bed alone is worth putting up with his cocky and overbearing personality.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, I have to go back to work.

The morning is uneventful. I tend to Ty’s wounds, giving Roman a quick lesson on how to dress them himself, and then leave for the day. He’s doing so much better, but his pent-up energy from being cooped up makes it difficult to keep him quiet and still.

The drive from Roman’s to the hospital is quick, and soon, I’m sitting in the parking lot, heart thundering in my chest as I gather the courage to go inside and pretend like I didn’t steal thousands of dollars in supplies and medication a few days ago.

If anyone finds out about that, I’ll lose everything.

My job, my license. All of this with Roman will be for nothing, and I’ll be done before I even begin.

I can already see the disappointment on my dad’s face if I get kicked out of the trauma surgery program here. Following in his footsteps has been my dream since I was a little girl, but it’s also been his, and sometimes that pressure is suffocating.

It’s just one more reason this deal with Roman has to work. I can’t fail, and without the money, I’m dangerously close.

When I step into the emergency department, I almost expect security to tackle me and haul me off to jail right there.

When that doesn’t happen, I relax a bit, but I’m still on edge.

I remember Joe telling me that my body language could give me away, so I do my best to control my breathing, the picture of composure as I walk down the hallway.

“Madison?” Dr. Bauer stops me. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanks, Dr. Bauer. I’m ready to be back at work.”

“Glad to hear it,” he says. “You let me know if you need any more time. And by the way, one of the pharmacy techs was looking for you this morning.”

All the blood in my veins runs cold. Oh, God. I’m sure she knows I made the entire thing up.

“And there are a few patients in the ER I would like for you to see this morning. Why don’t you get settled and come find me?” he calls over his shoulder as he walks towards the lobby.

I pressed my lips into a firm smile. “Sounds great.”

Stalking into the staff lounge, I throw my things into my locker and plop onto a chair with a heavy breath.

I can do this. I can do this.

The day actually goes by much quicker than I expect, and once I am seeing patients, it’s the only thing on my mind. Somehow, I avoid the pharmacy tech, and at least buy myself a little time. When my shift ends, I’m exhausted, but oddly relaxed as I gather my things from the lounge.

“Maddie!” someone calls as I’m walking out.

My stomach drops when I see the pharmacy technician.

“I’m so glad I caught you.”

“Hey Quinn.” I smile nervously. “Dr. Bauer said you were looking for me. I’m sorry I didn’t make it over there. We were crazy busy, and I didn’t think you would still be here.”

“No worries! I just wanted to double check on the patient number you gave me the other day. Once the system came back up, I looked, but I couldn’t find the patient.”

“Oh, that’s strange.” Not really, considering I made it up off the top of my head. This is a disaster. “I’m rushing out right now, and won’t be back until Saturday, but I can come by then and fix it for you.”

“That’s perfect! See you then!”

I hurry out of the lounge and make my way to the parking garage. At least I’ve got some time to figure this out.

When I get to Roman’s, I use the code he gave me to get through the gate.

I park my car and head inside, cringing as I take in the disaster that the house has somehow turned into.

This morning, it was nice and neat and put together, but it seems over the course of the day, a hurricane ripped through.

There’s laundry and dirty dishes strewn all over the place and it smells like a frat house.

Joe sprawls out in the recliner, and Ty is sitting up on the couch, playing some sort of video game.

“Ty, I need it now,” Roman calls from somewhere in the house.

Ty looks down at a shirt and starts to tug at it, squirming to get it over his head.

I wince at the way he moves because his wounds could easily open again.

“Here little man.” Joe notices the struggle, too, and pauses the game to help him get it off.

Ty takes it and throws it back over his shoulder, and the dirty T-shirt comes flying toward me. Roman catches it right before it hits me.

“Hey!” he snaps, pointing a finger at Ty. “What have I told you about throwing things in the house?”

The sternness in his voice sends a shudder through me, but it’s not fear I’m feeling. It’s something different.

Ty groans, rolling his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry to me. You almost hit Madison.”

“Maddie!” Ty’s eyes light up. “You came back.”

“How are you feeling, buddy?” I set my bag down and walk over to the couch. He looks so much better with the color returning to his face and the flare of excitement in his eyes. He’s completely off of his IVs and getting stronger by the minute. After what he’s been through, it feels like a miracle.

“Good. My dad won’t let me play basketball with uncle Joe, though.” He glares back towards Roman.

“Sounds like he’s taking good care of you, then.” I smile.

Roman looks surprised by the compliment, and to be honest, so am I. I went into this with next to no faith in him, but he’s really turned things around in regards to taking care of Ty. The history with St. Luke’s he mentioned still piques my interest, but I’m not about to pry.

“It’s time to lie back down, anyway, Ty,” Roman says. “You’ve been sitting up playing for a while.”

“Aw, come on, Dad! Does he have to?” Joe mocks, teasing Roman.

“Yeah, come on, Dad!” Ty echoes.

“One more game, but that’s it,” Roman cautions them. The sentence is barely out of his mouth before they have another round started.

Roman turns to me. “Sorry about the mess. Between laundry and trying to keep him still, I’ve barely had time to breathe today.”

I have to stifle a laugh. He sounds like such a househusband, completely out of his element. He’s not as scary or domineering with a dishrag over his shoulder, but I doubt he wants to hear that.

“It’s okay,” I say. “Should I get Ty something to eat while he’s occupied?”

He and Joe battle back-and-forth on the couch as their cars race on screen.

“At least Joe is good for something,” Roman says, letting out a sharp laugh. “That would be great. I’m almost done in here.”

Ty is still on a restricted diet, so I take him some yogurt and applesauce. Once Joe leaves, he eats a little, but he’s exhausted, and soon he’s fast asleep on the couch.

Roman notices when he comes back out, and lifts Ty into his arms with an effortless one-armed swoop.

The seams of his t-shirt stretch over his swollen muscles and an elaborate sleeve of tattoos peek out from underneath the fabric, trailing down to his flexed forearm.

My eyes trace each line, but I can’t make out what it is and, unfortunately, his clothing covers most of it. So, I’m left to imagine.

Wait a second. Am I honestly fantasizing about this guy right now? Part of me is ashamed, but there’s another part—a tiny part—that isn’t so easily deterred.

Thankfully, something brings me back to my senses, and I look away before he sees me staring. The smug grin on his lips tells me I’ve been caught, though.

A gentleman might have let me off the hook, but Roman Molanari is no gentleman.

“Like what you see?” His chuckle nearly strangles me and I feel like I might die on the spot.

As if he didn’t already have such a high opinion of himself, now he’s caught me checking him out and I’ll never hear the end of it.

That cave in the wilderness sounds better and better.

“Just wondering what you have against wearing clothes that actually fit you. Is everything you own so tight?”

Roman smirks. “I’m going to take him to his room. I’ll be right back.”

I nod, desperate for this entire interaction to end.

Once I hear Ty’s door shut, I rush up the stairs and down the hall to my own room.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I splash some cold water on my face.

I can’t risk another interaction with Roman going like that one did.

Quickly, I change out of my scrubs and my stomach growls.

Getting something to eat means I might run into Roman again, and I don’t know if my ego can handle that, but I’m starving.

When I get into the kitchen, I find Roman settled at the end of the island. A bottle of wine sits on the counter, a hefty glass already poured beside it, but Roman isn’t enjoying it. His head is in his hands, and he lets out a slow, emotional breath.

The floor creaks as I walk in, giving myself away, and he glances up, but says nothing. “I’m going to make something to eat,” I say, breaking the silence. “Want anything?”

He shakes his head and then gestures to the wine. “Someone recently told me my clothes are fitting a little tight, so this is dinner tonight.”

“Mmm.” I press my lips together. “As your doctor, I highly advise against that, and you promised to follow my orders. You need some actual food.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” He chuckles.

There isn’t much to work with in here, but I find some tortillas and cheese and a little grilled chicken I can throw together for quesadillas.

“Sorry, I obviously didn’t have time to make it to the grocery store. You’d think after six months I’d be better at this whole single parent thing.” He shakes his head and his thick dark brows furrow. “I’ll be sure and get there tomorrow.”

I’ve wondered about Ty’s mom since I got here, but Roman has offered very little in that department. In fact, that is the first time he’s even vaguely mentioned her.

“You don’t have to buy me food, Roman. That wasn’t part of the deal.” I sprinkle some cheese onto the tortillas and toss them into the skillet.

“Neither was you making me dinner, but here we are.” He tilts his head with a grin as he stands to take another wine glass out of the cabinet. “How was work?”

“It was okay. Busy.” I bit my lip, already anxious about how I’m going to explain the mystery patient when I go back in. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

His face twists as he hands me a glass of wine. “What happened?”

“It’s really nothing, Roman.” I turn to grab some plates, but he catches my wrist.

“Don’t lie to me, Madison. Is someone at St. Luke’s giving you a hard time?”

I jerk my arm out of his grasp, reeling away.

“The only one making things difficult for me is you. When I took the medicine for Ty, I had to come up with a fake patient number to give to the pharmacist. Joe did something to the computer so she couldn’t look right then, but when she went in later to log everything, obviously, she couldn’t find the person.

I just have to figure something else out. ”

He’s quiet for a minute and then whips out his phone. “What was the number?”

“Why does that—”

“The number, Madison.” He clenches his jaw, brow pinching with irritation.

“I don’t remember. It should be on the labels.”

“Consider it taken care of. I’ll have the patient in the system before I go to sleep tonight.” Roman takes a bite of his food, so casually that it’s almost like he didn’t just tell me he’d hack into the hospital database and falsify all kinds of records.

“You can do that?”

Roman snorts, as if it should be obvious. “Of course I can. Don’t worry about it anymore. Now can we eat? I’m starving.”

I should ask more questions.

I should, but I don’t.