“And in return,” I interrupted smoothly, “you decided the best payment option was pussy.”
Knox let out a loud “Damn” behind me.
Dr. Fairchild shook his head wildly; a desperate plea etched across his bloodied features. “It wasn’t like that!”
“Now when you were fuckin’ Zonnique I’m sure yo’ hands were steady, now suddenly you’re shaking?” I laughed in true humor. “I just had to throw that out there.”
Then I jumped back in serious mode.
“So, let me make sure I understand. You saying Zonnique didn’t offer herself as payment. She just accidentally fell on your dick while the two of you were discussing medical alternatives?”
His mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Take your time. I know concussions make lying difficult.”
Knox coughed, trying to cover another laugh.
Sweat began to bead on Dr. Fairchild’s brow. He shifted uncomfortably into his chair, the bindings creaking against his struggles.
“She came onto me first!” he deflected.
My laughter swelled, a dark, amused chuckle that betrayed his pathetic defense.
“Now why does every guilty nigga suddenly play the victim once repercussions start breathing down their neck?”
“I was just trying to help her!”
“Damn. Which one is it? Were you trying to help her or she came on to you first?”
Dr. Fairchild blinked nervously, his face growing paler by the minute. “Um… both.”
I stared at him for a long moment, then laughed once under my breath.
“Dr. Fairchild, here’s my theory. I think you saw a desperate, beautiful woman, realized she was vulnerable, then manipulated her into giving you some pussy in exchange for connecting her with an illegal black-market insemination doctor?”
Silence.
“Yeah. Wanting to help her, my ass.” I studied him for a moment. “And the more I think about it, that’s somehow worse than you simply being horny.”
His swollen face tightened.
“Because now you ain’t just a doctor who crossed the line; you’re an opportunistic with credentials, and now every degree on your wall looks questionable… not that it would matter after today. You can hang those muthafuckas in Heaven… maybe frame them beside yo’ wings, assuming they let you through the gate.”
Knox let out a low whistle behind me.
Dr. Fairchild’s breathing grew heavier.
“Oh, don’t look shocked now. You had plenty of time to consider consequences while you were taking advantage of her. You just assumed the worst thing that could happen was losing your license.” I smiled faintly. “That was cute. You should’ve been praying for a malpractice suit. Hell, even prison would’ve been a blessing compared to this.”
“Please,” he whispered.
“Nowyou wanna beg? You ain’t beg when Zonnique was desperate, you negotiated.”
His lips parted, but nothing came out.
“That’s the problem with niggas like you. You think a title, a white coat, and a few framed degrees make you untouchable. You forget there are people in this world who don’t file complaints.” I leaned closer. “We handle shit in person.”
His face crumpled.
