Page 31 of Lethal Attraction

I didn’t attend Harvard Medical School to be riled by some insecure, narcissistic shithead. But when someone goes low, I go to fucking hell.

“Little sounds?” I ask, tilting my head. “Is that all you could get out of her?”

“You have no idea who you’re fucking with!” he grits.

“I admire your ability to be wrong with such enthusiasm, Brooks, but I know people like you. You think you have all the answers—just none of them are correct. Stay away from Thalia. I’ll be seeing you at the gala.” I hang up on him before handing the phone back to Burton. “He sounds lovely.”

The man snatches it. “What have you done?!”

“A favor, by the sound of it.” I shrug. “He’s bad news, Burton. It would be in your best interest to sever any ties you have with him. He shot someone and put her in the hospital—”

“She’s another assassin!” He rages, shaking his phone in front of my face. “I’m telling you, Reed! We want to be on the right side of this.”

“The right side?” I scoff. “I didn’t become a medical professional to watch senseless violence. This whole assassin business is complete bullshit and you know it—”

“Reed!” he pleads desperately. “You’ll see at the gala. Let me sway your thoughts.”

I lift my hands, washing them of this. “I’m done, Burton. I’ll be at your gala, but only so I can show you that this is some kind of scam.”

“What if it isn’t?” He asks, his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. “What if I’m right? Then will you come to your senses?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Sure. I’ll pledge my allegiance to your ridiculous cause.”

There isn’t an ounce of truth behind my words, because this isn’t real. Burton is a fucking whack job if he thinks giving his endless cash supply to some criminal will get him anywhere. As I leave him in the hall, my mood remains just as sour.

I see patients with a smile, but nothing can distract from the chaos unfolding inside my head.

It’s clear that Brooks and Thalia had some kind of relationship. That doesn’t bother me. Her past is her past, but why would she give the time of day to such a…dick?

That’s the more polite way to describe him. Truthfully, I want to attend this gala all so I can fucking punch him in the throat for hurting Thalia. I don’t know why I’m riding so hard behind this, but the thought of him shooting her makes my blood boil.

It isn’t until my day is almost up that I finally take a step back and examine exactly what I’m doing.

I’m planning to fight a man over a woman who hasn’t even had the decency to call or reach out. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I couldn’t find her socials, so she’s most likely under a different name, but for fuck’s sake! She found my apartment. The least she could do is send me a text and let me know that she’s okay.

“You’re going to pop the IV bag if you keep squeezing it that tight,” Taryn muses as she sneaks up on me at my desk.

I slap the bag of fluids down beside me, grumbling. “Yeah, maybe then it will give me something exciting to do.”

She eases onto the chair next to me. “Still no word from your Mystery Girl?”

I tense at the nickname. “She isn’t my girl—”

“Pu-lease!” My friend smirks. “You haven’t stopped thinking about her, Reed. And you have this whole broody thing going on. You’re smitten.”

“I’m not smitten,” I grumble. “She’s ten years younger than me and has her whole life ahead of her.”

“Emma is eight years older than me,” she counters. “My point is that you should try harder to find her. I know you looked at her chart. Columbus is a day trip from here.”

Trust me. I know it is.

Taryn has always been able to read me, which is why she’s suggesting I find Thalia. Because she already knows what I’m planning.

“At least get your car back,” my friend shrugs as she opens her chart. “And maybe you’ll grow a pair and ask her out on a date.”

I sit back, sighing as I rub a hand through my scruff. “Weird question. Do you know any good barbers?”

She smirks. “I know a few. I’ll text you their info.”