Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Bennett
T he elevator dings, and the doors open on the third floor. Cat and I step into a silent hallway lined with dim lights, our shoes clacking along the glistening tiles. Aside from our footsteps and the intermittent beeps and whooshes of hospital equipment, the hallway is quiet.
Oddly quiet. Despite this being the hospital floor, we haven’t seen a single member of staff since stepping out of the elevator.
“It looked like a mansion from the outside, not a hospital,” Cat whispers. “Is this where your mother has been all this time?”
I nod and motion for her to step through the double doors just ahead of us. “Only the best for my mom. If she has to deteriorate slowly, I want her to be comfortable while she does it.”
As we pass doors, I check the numbers. The rooms are large and spread out, but there aren’t very many of them. I guess not everyone can afford for their parents to waste away in the lap of luxury.
Fuck, I can’t afford it either, and I don’t know how I’ll cover the expenses accrued from this particular setback. But I can think about that later. Right now, I just want to see my mother.
We reach the last door on the left, and I step forward to open it.
Despite the daylight outside the walls, the room is shrouded in darkness. A strip of light from the hallway reaches toward my mother’s hospital bed, and my eyebrows pull together.
“Cat, open the door a little wider,” I say.
She steps back and opens the door, and the strip of light widens to a rectangle. My mother’s hospital bed is empty.
“I didn’t expect you’d have company,” a familiar voice says from the corner of the room.
I spin on my heels and search for the light switch while ensuring I’m standing between Cat and the man waiting in the dark. My fingers land on a raised knob, and I flick it upward, filling the room with a bright light.
Doctor Whitlow rises from his chair, covering his eyes and squinting at me and Cat. I don’t know what I expected to be in his hand—a gun, maybe—but it wasn’t a manila folder.
“Where’s my mother?” I take a step toward him. Just one.
Doc holds the folder to his chest and taps it with his index finger. “Your mother is downstairs in her bed, though it won’t be her bed for much longer. Unless you pay in advance, as we discussed?—”
I cross the room in three strides, pull back my fist, and send it into Doc Whitlow’s weak-ass jaw. Something cracks, and he stumbles and falls into a chair, looking up at me with fear in his eyes.
Good. He should be afraid.
“You lied about my mother’s condition to get me here to talk about payment? Are you truly this fucking stupid? You know what I do for a living.”
Doc has the audacity to raise his finger and say, “What you did for a living. You are currently unemployed, Mr. Carter.” He points to Cat. “Does she know she’s crawled into bed with a penniless killer who can’t scrape up a contract to save his mother’s life?”
I reach forward and grip that pointed finger, then twist until something snaps. The doctor lets out a scream that sends a dangerous signal to my brain. If he isn’t careful with what he says next, he’ll learn why they call me the Chaos Killer.
“Bennett, could we take your mother home?” Cat’s hand lands on my arm, and like a tranquilizer for my soul, she quiets the beast inside me. “I can help you care for her. She doesn’t have to stay here.”
“Listen to the girl,” the doctor says through gritted teeth. “Take your mother back to your roach-infested hovel and let someone who can actually pay take her place.”
Shame punches me in the chest. I never wanted Cat to know how I live. When I’m in New York, I keep up appearances, but this is my reality. Everything the asshole says is the truth.
“Better to live with the roaches than people like you.” Cat steps closer. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Didn’t you become a doctor because you want to help people?”
“I don’t see how this is any of your concern.” Doc Whitlow doesn’t even look at her as he speaks. He’s too busy fiddling with his finger, which slants at an unnatural angle. “You’re just this man’s flavor of the week, sweetie.”
I’ve had all I can take. I look around the room for something to throttle this man to death with, but Cat rushes past in a blur of blonde hair and rage. A flash of silver glints in her hand as she leaps onto him and presses the object against his throat.
It’s a pair of scissors, and one of the blades presses dangerously close to a thumping artery.
“Listen here, you piece of shit. I’m not a flavor of the week, month, or year. I’m not anything so pleasant as a flavor at all. And you have pissed me the fuck off. Tell me what you’ve done.”
I rock back on my heels with a grin I can’t suppress. “You’ve fucked up now,” I say through a laugh.
“Get her off me,” Doc Whitlow whines. “Your mother can stay. We can work out a payment plan.”
“Fuck you!” Cat spits into his gaping mouth and presses more weight into the blade. “Not only will you let his mother stay here, but you’ll also upgrade her to the highest level of care and luxury. She will be kept at this facility for the remainder of her life or until Bennett chooses to move her, and neither Bennett nor anyone else will ever owe a dime.”
“I can’t do that!” Doc Whitlow shouts. “I own the facility, but there are partners.”
“Then you’ll cover her bills. Don’t piss me off, shit head.” Cat drags the scissors at a downward angle, and a thin red ribbon of blood unfurls from his neck.
“You cut me!” He reaches toward the small wound, hardly larger than the width of a pinky nail. Pussy.
He’s getting a little wiggly now, and I don’t want Cat to get hurt, so I step closer. That’s enough to settle him again.
Before Cat can continue negotiations, my phone buzzes in my pocket. As I pull it out, I see Jim’s name flash across the screen. I answer the call.
“Bennett, my boy, how is your mother?” he asks. No pleasantries, just straight to the heart of the matter.
I look down at the doctor. “We were lied to,” I say. “She’s as good as she was before I left for the trip. Whitlow decided to bluff for payment.”
Jim grunts on the other end of the line. “I never liked that man. Hand him the phone.”
My eyebrows pull together as I hold the phone toward the doctor. I never knew they were acquainted.
“It’s for you,” I say with a smirk.
Doc Whitlow takes the phone and licks his lips, trying to wet them with his sandpaper tongue. “Hello?”
His eyes widen and his skin turns a ghostly gray as Jim says something to him, but his demeanor quickly shifts to something more joyful. He smiles and nods, offering yeses at every turn.
Cat keeps the scissors in place, ensuring he can’t lash out at either of us, but she looks between me and the phone repeatedly. Questions haunt her eyes, but I know about as much as she does.
Is that Jim? she mouths.
I nod.
The color returns to Doc Whitlow’s cheeks, and he hands the phone back to me. I press it to my ear.
“Turn him loose,” Jim says. “I’m buying out his little hospital spa, and I’ll replace any staff as you see fit. Your mother will never want for anything again, Bennett, I promise you that.”
My shoulders droop. Owing a friend money is far worse than owing money to an asshole. At least you don’t have to feel guilty when you can’t pay the asshole.
I shake my head. “I can’t do that, Jim. You know my situation.”
“Oh, about that. Once the deal is done and the hospital has transferred ownership, I want you to take on your first hit under me. After the appropriate amount of time has passed, you’ll murder Doctor Whitlow so that I can recoup my money.” He laughs on the other end of the phone, the devious joy palpable in that tittering sound.
But then his words register.
“First? You’re . . .”
“Yes. I’m hiring you. Unlike your previous employer, I like your flair, boy. I didn’t want to mention it at the retreat because I don’t like to mix personal time and business, but now the retreat is over. I’m already at the airport, ready to head back to my island.”
I stumble backward and sit on the hospital bed. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
That’s a horrible choice of words, because I fear I’m about to have one now.
“Bennett, what’s wrong?” Cat asks.
I motion for her to come to me, and after a moment’s hesitation, she slides away from the doctor and sits beside me on the bed.
“What’s wrong?” I say with a laugh. “Absolutely nothing now.”
I lean down and kiss her.