Page 58 of Lamb

Our target was in position. The perfect combination of factors that would have this whole thing appearing like a tragic accident. A guy at the prime of his life taken out by too much confidence and adrenaline.

Really was a shame, though. I recognized what John didn’t. The fact that his pupil was as depraved as he was. Maybe more so. Cohen Michaels wasn’t just any surgical resident. He was a serial killer in themaking. Lacked empathy and couldn’t see past his own ego. I could work with that. I could manipulate it into being exactly what I needed. If only his head didn’t come with such a high price tag.

Unfortunately for Dr. Michaels, he was worth much more to me dead than alive.

Thirty minutes later, my phone lit up with an incoming call. A call meant there’d been a complication. It was more of ano news was good newskinda thing. I swiped answer and pressed the device to my ear, waiting to hear who was on the other side before speaking.

“Minor hiccup,” Casper grunted into the receiver. “Fucker just doesn’t want to stay down. Should I take care of it?”

I considered our options before landing on one that had me grinning. “No.”

I’d let fate decide for us. If things didn’t go exactly according to plan and Dr. Michaels was able to bring himself back from the brink of death, then I’d give him a second chance. Fix him up and use him. If not, then so be it. Either way, we were getting paid. That’s what liability clauses were for. Nothing was guaranteed when our client insisted on it looking like an accident—he signed a contract saying as much. Whether or not John read it wasn’t my problem. It was his.

“You sure?” Casper pressed, and I could hear the apprehension in his voice. He didn’t like leaving shit unfinished. He’d be too ramped up to let it go, which meant I would begetting another call after he drank himself into oblivion tonight. Then again, he’d probably do that anyway.

“Yes.” I hung up without bothering to say more. He would do as he was told. Kid had learned the hard way what happened if he didn’t and now we had an understanding. We all did.

I wasn’t a dictator. I just did what it took to keep everyone in line. Other than that, the residents of Briarwood had free will. It was a fair trade. At least it was more fair than they’d get from anyone else.

71

ADRIAN

Irecognized obsession when I saw it. I had my own to deal with after all. I also understood how much of a weakness it was. To both of us. Good thingour friendhere didn’t know about mine.

I knew all there was to know about his, though. About how he followed her everywhere she went. Watched her from a distance—something else we had in common. How losing everything in a matter of a few weeks meant the only thing he could focus on was her. Her and the child he thought they were going to have.

The folder in my hand told me otherwise. I flicked through a few pages before rolling it up and tucking into my jacket pocket. Memorizing just enough to grab his attention and likely send him spiraling. Medical jargon I knew he would understand but probably not absorb, seeing as part of him already blamed the girl for his misfortune. Blamed her for luring him out onto the street and right intoour trap. Even though the poor thing didn’t know that’s what she was doing.

He didn’t know either.

But it didn’t matter. Narcissists didn’t care whose fault it was. Just that it wasn’t their own.

I was curious how he would take the news. One more thing ripped out of his severely-mangled hand. One more disappointment life had dealt him.

There were really only two options. It would either break him or motivate him. And I had a hunch it would be the latter. Suicide was far too self-reflective for a man like Cohen Michaels. But revenge wasn’t. And revenge was an even greater motivator than love. Though one usually fueled the other.

I stared at him from behind the foggy glass of the bar window. Waiting on the sidewalk with my hands tucked into my pockets and Bugs standing at my back. Casper was a wild card, one I couldn’t risk with situations as… delicate as these. Besides, I didn’t think he would be able to contain his excitement after he saw what our little “accident” did to our former target’s face. What some sloppy surgeons had done to piece it back together not so tactfully.

A waste of skin and tissue. Good thing it wasn’t his looks I was interested in. It was what he could or couldn’t do with his hands. What I could do to fix them and then what he would do to pay me back.

I waited for the girl to leave—Emily Shaw was her name I’d come to learn—and stepped up behind Cohen’sback just as he moved to follow her. Clamping a hand on his shoulder and shoving him down again.

“Dr. Cohen Michaels, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” I grinned.

He didn’t. But that was because he didn’t know about my proposal yet. He would soon. And he would accept it or I would be forced to finish what I started.

Like I said, I didn’t like loose ends. But I sure as hell enjoyed tying them off.

It took longer than I preferred for Dr. Michaels to get onboard with all that Briarwood had to offer. And not because the shit we did here bothered him. I saw the way his eyes lit up when they swept over my surgical table. How feral he looked when the scent of blood penetrated his nostrils. The fucker came alive with a scalpel in his hand. Even if he struggled to hold it.

No, the problem he had was the fact he wasn’t in control. I was. And I always would be too. My boys would make sure of it.

See, that was the difference between me and Cohen. He didn’t play well with others. Didn’t know what it was like to think about anyone but himself. Didn’t know what it was to set your own desires aside in favor of someoneelse’s. But I did. Even if it was all in favor of getting what I wanted in the end.

If I were being honest, and I usually was, I’d admit that I saw a part of myself in each of the men I collected over the years. The good and the bad. The advantageous and the toxic. It was funny when you recognized yourself in someone else. It was less funny when that someone irritated the hell out of you.

Casper was playful and indulgent, the way Marisela made me feel during all those months we were sneaking around.

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