Page 38 of Merciless Attraction

The sound of a whistle blowing and masculine voices shouting to break it up pull me out of the moment enough to stare down at the scarred man. He’s smiling a bloody smile which drives me crazy, but it fades the moment a police officer steps closer to us.

“I was just minding my business, and this guy starts wailing on me for no reason,” he screeches to the officers.

“He’s a menace and has been harassing my fiancé,” I tell the officers as they pull me away from the crowd. I have no doubt I’m taking a ride in the back of their squad car, but it was worth it. Hopefully, my reaction will teach this guy that Gemma is the wrong woman to make uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to press charges,” the scarred guy says to the cops. “I understand what I look like, and I can bemenacing. I mean, some people have even accused me of slashing their tires and shattering their windshields when they parked in an unsafe area at night.”

My eye twitches as this asshole taunts me, basically admitting to vandalizing Gemma’s car, and there’s nothing I can do about it with the police standing here.

“He stalked me to my car the other night,” Gemma chimes in. “He was here, and—”

The officer eyes her with confusion, and asks, “Did you call the police? Is there a report we can reference?”

“No,” Gemma huffs. “This guy was here on Saturday night. He basically threatened me, saying that Verducci sends his best and then stalked me through the garage.”

“And you didn’t call the police?” The officer asks again.

“No because he’s not on camera. I just know it was him,” Gemma says, shaking her head because she understands how crazy this sounds to someone else.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Gemma,” the scarred man replies. “I thought I left my wallet here the other night. Maybe you saw me coming back here and got a bit worked up.”

Her eyes go wide and I speak up to stop her anger from bursting free and making this any worse. “Gemma, it’s fine. I’ll go with you guys and Gem, I’ll be back here to get you after your shift. Don’t leave without me.”

The cops walk me over to the squad car with the scarred guy grinning from ear to ear as he follows beside us.

“I won’t press charges if you let me hit him back. He caught me off guard back there,” Scarred says to the police.

“Now, listen, buddy.” The officer puts his hands up and steps between us. “It’s too early in the goddamn morning for this shit. Fighting over a chick is never worth it. Why don’t you two just promise to stay away from each other and keep your shit out of the businesses on the pier?”

“Officers, you have no idea what you’re asking this muscle-bound meathead to do,” Scarred continues taunting me. “Don’t let his title of Doctor fool you.”

“Wait a minute, how do you know this guy’s a doctor?” One officer says, turning and eyeing me from head to toe.

There’s nothing about me without my lab coat and stethoscope that says I’m a doctor. My car is in the garage so they haven’t seen my MD plates. Scarred-face screwed up.

“I was just saying he doesn’t know how to stay away from me. That’s all.” Scarred tries to steer the officers’ inquiries away from him.

The officers look at each other and then at me. “Are you really a doctor?”

“Yeah. I’m Dr. Antonio Calisi. I’m on staff for the Cannella Medical Group just outside the city. I used to do rotations in the ER at Cedar General.” I pull out my phone to show them the number to the clinic.

One of the officers nods and turns to the other, whispering and then turning back to me. “You’re free to go, Doc. You, what’s your name?”

But when we all turn to hear Scarred’s answer, he’s gone.

“That’s the second time that asshole has slipped through my fingers,” I grumble.

The officers get into their car with a few final words to me. “Well, next time, don’t attack him in broad daylight. Keep it clean, doc.”

Just like that, they take off and leave me at the front entrance of the pier. There aren’t many tourists, and most people have uniforms that reflect the shops they work at. I’m about to make my way toward Booked and Boozy when I see Gemma jogging toward me.

“I was just about to come bail you out. What happened? They just let you go?” she asks. Gemma can’t help but scan our surroundings, ever alert.

“Yeah, the asshole got away from me again. Don’t you have to work?” I find myself peering over her shoulder, waiting for someone to call her back into the cafe.

“No, I don’t have to worry about working there ever again,” she says with sarcasm coating every syllable.

“Fuck,” I spit out, running my fingers through my hair.

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