The Royal Contract

He was not concerned about his head. It was a slight bump, but it would not hurt to be thorough as he waited for his test results.

However, his wound hurt like a bitch. Although it would not kill him, it still was a pain in the ass, preventing him from moving his arms.

"Ok, Dr. Sheldon, how do you plan to treat me?" He lay on the bed comfortably, smiling and enjoying his time.

He would have crossed his arms across his chest, but moving it was too painful. Therefore, he had to leave it on the sling and watched the woman in a white coat stand over his bed.

Nevertheless, on the bright side, he still had a good view from his standpoint. And honestly, he liked what he was seeing.

"Mr. Carter, you have a slight bruising on the left side of your scalp, but nothing that will require surgery." She explained to him.

"Just put some icepack on it, and you are good to go." The doctor recommended, but she avoided looking in his direction as her eyes remained on the chart in her steady hands.

Damn!

He would never have thought the woman he picked up in the bar was a doctor. But he had always thought she was too good to be a hooker.

Suddenly, the drunk woman who landed on his bed seemed more intriguing now than before. He could not help but think about what the hell was her story.

"I am sorry, Mr. Carter, but you are not yet going anywhere." Another familiar voice spoke behind the curtain that seemed to ruin his daydreaming.

He turned to look just in time to see a friendly face. At least, he believed he worked with this man on the same side of the law.

Of course, that was when he was a lawyer and not the sidekick of the former criminal mastermind. Still, for the authorities, he was representing the people against the lawbreakers.

"Detective Stanley," Mike greeted the man in a cheap suit. He did not have to show his badge to know who he was. "What can I do for you?"

He remembered they had worked on several cases together, but it had been years. Still, he remembered how good the detective was at his job.

Therefore, he should be aware of what he would tell this man about this case, or he would blow his cover wide open.

"I think I am not needed anymore." The doctor excused herself. "If you experience any lightheadedness, don't hesitate to return to the emergency room."

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"For your wound, just don't forget to change the dressings." The beautiful doctor told him before she finally exited the tiny cubicle.

He wished to follow her and ask her number, but he doubted from the look on her face that she would give him that.

"Thanks, Doc." For now, that was all he could say as he watched her disappear, probably to attend to other patients.

But at least now, he knew her name and where to look for her. He guessed he could drop his earlier suspicion that she might be a spy.

It turned out that she was a doctor at the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he could invite her for dinner or something. He guessed that was a challenge he was willing to explore.

"So, it seems that you are just slightly banged out. But I think we can start our interview now." The detective said when it was just the two of them.

Of course, he was already aware of what the man would ask. He had been using his time with the doctor to prepare himself for his questions.

Although, he still had a few missing pieces of information he had to be cautious about.

He still had not consulted with Don, who the nurses said was still heavily sedated. But at least he was not talking anytime soon.

"Yeah, the incident was pretty intense." He casually answered, appearing calm and collected. He finally shifted into a sitting position on the edge of the bed to face the investigator.

"So, what can you tell me about the shooting? Do you have any suspects? Did you see the man who shot you and Mr. Don Lorenzo?" Detective Stanley inquired, throwing a series of questions at him.

He knew the drill. The detective would try to rattle the witnesses or suspects, determining if they were telling the truth or concocting a lie.

"Unfortunately, the street was dark. Although the shot came in close range, I still did not see the face of the shooter." He already knitted a story that would fit with the shooting.

"Oh, is that so?" He could hear the skepticism in his voice, but the detective knew better than to question his integrity unless he had proof otherwise.

But based on what he could remember, the only witnesses in that place were all working for the organization.

There would be no video cameras covering that area. That was part of their rules. No evidence as much as possible.

"Ok, it would help if you could at least give us something. But..." The detective shook his head as if accepting that was a dead end. "I can't force you to say something you did not see."

"Anyway, what are you doing with Mr. Don Lorenzo in the middle of the night? If you don't mind me asking." The man asked as he checked his notepad.

He wondered if the man had anything written on that thing or if he was only using that as a prop. But that was a legitimate question that he could or could not answer.

"Mr. Lorenzo had some concerns that would like some clarification. I was in the neighborhood and thought we could discuss it before I went home." He vaguely explained, not dodging his questions. But he was not giving too much information either.

"And I don't think that it was that late." Although the street was dark and almost empty, still, he would not classify the time as the middle of the night.

"Yeah, technically, you are right. I guess." The man smiled at him.

He looked into the detective's face, trying to read his thoughts. But he still could not determine if he was a friend or a foe.

And to be safe, he would consider him hostile for now. He did not want to play this safe or tone down the threat. He knew what was at stake.

"I assure you if I have more details or if I somehow could jog my memory and remember something. You will be the first on my list to call." He knew that sounded condescending, but that was the best he could do for now.

He could not tell this detective about his friend since he could not trust anybody. The organization had many people on its payroll, from petty thieves to the cops and even some high officials.

Therefore, he had to be careful who to trust. So far, he only had a few people he could tell their secrets. But he still kept many things from them, especially things involving Gerald.

"I know I can always count on you." The detective seemed to give him the benefit of the doubt as he pulled out a card. "You can always call me."

Then, he watched the man move toward the exit, finally leaving him alone. Now, he had to wait for Don to wake up so he could discuss this situation with him.

Don could not tell the cops that it was Gerald who shot him. Luckily, the men were not talking to the cops as they kept tight lips.

But now, he had to find out how he was doing and where they kept him. He could see that he was not in the emergency room anymore.

But he doubted he was there or the place would fill with his goons. Therefore, he had to find him if he was still in this hospital.

"Doc..." Finally, he saw the same doctor he wanted to bump into. She seemed to be in a hurry, but he blocked her path. "Dr. Sheldon. I hope you don't mind, but I have some questions."

He was using her words to manipulate her to talk to him. She did say that he should ask her questions. But she did not say it had to be related to his condition.

"What can you say to the man brought here with me? Mr. Lorenzo? How is he doing?" He had to know his condition before he created his backup plan.

She stopped but looked annoyed as she stared into his face and put her fisted hands on her hips. If looks could kill, he guessed he would drop dead on the floor by now.

"What are you doing? Don't you see I am busy?" She hissed at him angrily. But she still avoided saying it loudly as she tried to sidestep him.

"I just want some answers. Then, you can go on your way." He said in a friendly tone, hoping that would put them back on the right foot.

It would seem that they had parted in a complicated situation. Although what caused the problem seemed vagued, at least on one side.

"Are you a relative or something?" She asked as her brows raised in question.

"No," He answered but remembered something. "But I am his lawyer." He quickly amended.

"Still, I could not disclose his condition without a family member present." The good doctor told him. "If you want to help, contact the family and inform them to come here.

"Fair enough." He guessed there was no harm in trying. Still, he had one more question to ask. "By the way, will you go out with me?"

He stepped one inch closer, slightly invading her space while his eyes sought hers. "Dinner tonight."

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