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ADRIAN

“ D o we have any intel on the girlfriend? Is she someone we have to worry about?” I looked over at Bugs, who was sitting cross-legged in front of me. A tablet on his lap and a stylist pressed to the screen.

I didn’t like complications. More than that I didn’t like loose ends.

And I wasn’t above throwing in a freebie if it meant the job got done right.

There was collateral damage in every business.

Mine just happened to include spare body parts.

Which were in high demand by the way. Especially to the right buyer. A win-win if you asked me.

“She’s pretty.” He shrugged. “But irrelevant. No family, no real social media presence, newer relationship… My guess is she’ll just assume he’s ghosted her. It’s kinda his MO.”

“You like her…” I watched his face for a moment while he pretended to watch his screen and not hear me.

We both kn ew he did. I’d tested the new implant and it was working perfectly.

This was just Bugs’s way of coping with shit he didn’t like.

And it’d worked for a long time. That time wasn’t now, though.

Realizing I wasn’t about to drop it, he finally looked up and narrowed his gaze. “I don’t like her. I don’t even know her,” he grunted.

“Except you do. You know everything there is to know about her, don’t you?” I countered.

“That’s my job, isn’t it? Finding out everything there is to know about the target.”

“The target, yes.” I lifted a shoulder. “The target’s girlfriend, not so much. We just need the basics, not her life story.” Our boy had a crush. It was cute. It was also dangerous. “Stay away from the girl. If she really is irrelevant, be smart and keep her that way.”

He nodded once before returning his focus to his tablet.

I wasn’t dumb enough to think that was the end of it, though.

These kids weren’t exactly the listening type.

But they were loyal. And more than that, they were predictable.

Which made it easy to figure out what kind of trouble they were going to get themselves into and prepare for it.

Besides, keeping tabs on the girlfriend wasn’t exactly a bad thing, if he was discreet about it. Meant we would be the first to know if she became a problem.

“I’m thinking a car accident…” I broke the silence, waving a hand in the air as I tried to picture it.

It was a waste of good organs but our client wasn’t paying for a disappearance.

Rath wanted a body. Proof. And customer sa tisfaction was always my top priority. “Something messy but not uncommon…”

Bugs shook his head, his eyes lighting up like they did whenever I ordered him a new piece of tech. But we weren’t talking tech right now. We were talking murder. “I got a better idea.”

I shifted in my seat, leaning closer as I waited to hear him out. This was a group effort after all. “I’m listening.”

“Guy owns a bike. Yellow and flashy. The kind people like to ride a little too fast… the kind that’re easy to track in the dark… The kind that are prone to spinning out and hitting a guardrail without anyone asking why…”

Bugs met my glare from over the top of his computer screen, dipping his head in a curt nod. And I used a burner phone to dial Casper. Letting it ring out three times before hanging up. He would know what it meant.

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 the making. 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 a no news was good news kinda 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 be getting 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.