Chapter 3 - The Detective at the Door
The silence in the trauma bay was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, steady beep of Toby’s heart monitor.
Dr. Aris flattened himself so hard against the tiled wall that he looked as though he wanted to phase right through the masonry. His chest heaved, sweat pouring down his pale cheeks. He stared at Dominic Gallo as if he were looking straight into the gates of hell.
“You absolute fool,” Marcus muttered, snapping his medical case shut with a sharp metallic clatter. “You just signed your own death warrant, doctor.”
“I—I had no choice!” Aris sobbed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. “The Gallo family? In my ER? With a gunshot victim? If the police found out I covered for an illegal shooting, my license is gone forever! I’m going to prison!”
“If the police walk through those doors right now, prison will be the least of your concerns,” Dominic said. His voice was dangerously calm, a low rumble that carried the terrifying weight of an executioner. He didn’t raise his voice, nor did he look at Aris with anger. He looked at him with cold, clinical detachment, the same way a butcher looks at a lamb.
Clara stepped between them, planting herself squarely in Dominic’s path. Her exhaustion vanished, replaced by a sudden, fierce spike of adrenaline.
“Stop it,” Clara said, her voice sharp and authoritative. She pushed gently against Dominic’s chest, feeling the solid, unyielding wall of muscle beneath his shirt. “Killing him in the middle of a hospital ward won’t solve anything, Mr. Gallo. It will bring every cop in the state down on this building in five minutes, and Toby won’t survive the chaos.”
Dominic looked down at her, his dark asphalt eyes locking onto hers. For a terrifying second, Clara thought he might brush her aside and finish what he intended to do. But then, the rigid tension in his shoulders eased just a fraction. He exhaled a slow, heavy breath through his nose.
“You have a lot of faith in people who betray you, nurse,” Dominic said quietly, his gaze intense.
“I have faith in survival,” Clara corrected him, her chin held high. “And right now, killing a doctor in a public hospital is a great way to guarantee none of us walk out of here.”
“She’s right, boss,” Marcus interjected, checking the screen of his encrypted phone. “Vance’s cruisers are pulling up to the bay doors now. We have less than ninety seconds before they walk through the front desk.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. He turned his attention back to Aris, who was currently trembling so hard his teeth were chattering audibly.
“You want to keep your license, doctor?” Dominic asked, his voice dripping with venomous sarcasm.
Aris nodded frantically, unable to speak.
“Then listen very carefully,” Dominic whispered, stepping close enough that Aris could feel the heat of his breath. “When Detective Vance walks through that door, you are going to look him in the eye. You are going to tell him that a homeless man staggered into the ER bleeding from a knife wound, and that he died on the table ten minutes ago. You are going to tell him that the cleanup crew is dealing with biohazard waste, and that no one else was here.”
“And—and the kid?” Aris stammered, casting a terrified glance toward Toby on the steel table.
“The kid is already gone,” Dominic said darkly. “Moved to a private morgue van. If you say one word about a gunshot, about us, or about this room, I won’t just take your license, doctor. I will make sure you never walk down a city street again.”
Aris swallowed hard, his eyes wide with absolute terror. “I… I understand. I swear I won’t say anything.”
“See that you don’t,” Dominic said, stepping back. He looked at Marcus and his enforcers. “Get Toby out of here. Use the service elevator down to the subterranean laundry dock. The ambulance van is waiting in bay four.”
“What about her?” Marcus asked, gesturing toward Clara with a tilt of his head.
Dominic paused, his dark eyes lingering on Clara for a long, unreadable moment. The harsh fluorescent light caught the tired lines of her face, the smudge of blood on her cheek, and the fierce, defiant spark in her green eyes. She had stood up to him. She had saved his brother. And she had looked at his raised hand not with anger, but with the conditioned terror of a survivor.
“She comes with us,” Dominic said.
Clara’s eyes went wide. “Like hell I do! I live here! My shift isn’t over for another three hours, and I have a job—!”
“Your shift just ended, Miss Hayes,” Dominic interrupted, his tone absolute, carrying the undeniable weight of an apex predator claiming his prize. “And staying here after Vance questions that coward is a very good way to find yourself at the bottom of the harbor.”
Before Clara could protest further, Marcus and the enforcers had already lifted the wheeled trauma table, transferring Toby smoothly onto a concealed transport gurney hidden beneath a heavy medical shroud.
The heavy double doors of the ER suddenly burst open.
The sharp, authoritative voice of Detective Vance echoed down the hallway.
“Police! Nobody move! Drop whatever you’re doing and step away from the desk!”
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Dominic didn’t flinch. He reached out, grabbed Clara firmly by the elbow, and pulled her into the shadow of the supply closet just as the bright beam of a flashlight cut across the hallway.
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