Chapter Text
Chapter 1 Savior
I was sort of dozing in my hospital bed when the door opened. I figured it was some nurse coming to check on me so I just stayed a sleep. Whoever it was stopped by my bed and remained motionless. I could smell the person’s cologne and instantly knew it was not any of the nurses that had visited me. Too expensive.
I slowly woke from my doze to look up into dollar green eyes. Gentleman Johnny Marcone had taking time out of his busy schedule to visit poor little old me. A bulky shadow from the door way clued me in on Hendricks’s position. Never saw one without the other.
“My, you look awful,” Marcone stated.
I did my best to glare at him but knew that I fell horribly short of it. “Yeah, well, not all of us can pull off thousand dollar suits.”
Marcone smirked at this. “It would appear that you have helped me out, Mr. Dresden.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
“That may be the case but I still owe you a favor,” Marcone explained.
“I don’t need any favors from you. Like I said, I didn’t do this for you,” I growled.
Hendricks stepped forward a bit as if I was going to attack his boss. Yeah, right. At this point, I couldn’t even conjure a ball of light much less a powerful fire ball. Marcone lifted his hand to call off Cujo.
“Now, Harry, there is no case to be rude.”
“Don’t call me by my name!”
That smirk was back. A slight curl to a rather nice mouth. I may be straight but one notices attractiveness where it is due. And if there was one thing that Gentleman Johnny was, it was attractive.
“Fine, Mr. Dresden. But know this, whether you like it or not, people will think you got rid of Victor Sells for me.” Marcone bowed his head slightly towards me. “Get well soon, Harry.”
Marcone’s eyes stayed on me for a couple of seconds more before he exited the room. There was something in those eyes that bugged me. Not knowing what it was frustrated me. But one thing wizards love is a challenge.
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The next day when I was discharged, I received another shock.
“You don’t have to pay anything Mr. Dresden. It has all been taking care of,” the nurse Sheila told me.
I stared at her flabbergasted. That was impossible. Wizards have lousy healthcare plans, myself even more so. There was no way that I didn’t have some sort of bill for my stay.
“There has to be a mistake,” I told her.
The nurse shook her head looking down at the papers in her hands. “No, no mistake. It says right here that everything was paid for by a Mr. Marcone.”
My eyes opened wide and my jaw dropped. That bastard. What was he thinking?
“Here, he left you a note.” Nurse Sheila handed over a white envelope.
Harry,
I know you won’t appreciate this but I had to do something. You did something courageous and it deserves to be noticed even in this small way. If you want to rant and rave at me, call me. You have my business card.
J. Marcone
Business card? What business card? My hand was gripping the envelope tightly and I could feel something else inside the paper. Indeed, I did now have his business card.
“How nice of Mr. Marcone to help you out like this. I’ll just have someone bring the wheelchair so you can be on your way.” Shelia cheerfully smiled as she exited the room.
Was that woman crazy? John Marcone nice? She apparently had never heard of the crime lord of Chicagoland.
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Ensconced on my couch with Mister on my legs, purring like a miniature outboard motor, Marcone’s letter and card in my hands. I cannot believe I was even contemplating calling him. He was a mob boss, a powerful one at that. He was a killer and a criminal. I didn’t want to have any dealings with him. So why was my hand grabbing the phone and dialing the number?
“Marcone.” He picked up after the third ring.
“Why did you pay for my hospital stay?” I started out.
“Why Mister Dresden, what a pleasant surprise.” Marcone’s voice was just as rich even over the phone.
“Cut the crap and answer the question,” I ground out. I didn’t want to admit what just his voice was doing to me.
He sighed. “I told you, you deserved some form of recognition for your work. The city certainly never gives it.”
“But now people will think that I work for you.”
“And would that be such a bad thing? You would be receiving a much steadier and lucrative paycheck than what you get now.”
I could just hear the smirk in his voice. He really did think you could buy anything with the right amount of money.
“I can’t work for you. Call it moral high ground,” I responded.
This time I did make Marcone laugh. It was a nice laugh, deep and penetrating. It was the type of laugh that made me shiver, even a straight man like myself.
“Play it your way, Harry. I’ll be talking to you.”
Damn! He got the last word again. And he called me by my first name. I hate that!