Good Intentions - Adrian Hell #6 (Adrian Hell Series) (25 page)

I lean back and rest against the pillows in bed.

Huh… Talk about being put in your place…

I stare at her. She’s relaxed back into her chair, holding my gaze in a practiced, professional way—approachable and open, but respectfully distant. Right now, she’s working. She’s not Kaitlyn the target, or Kaitlyn the victim. She’s not even Kaitlyn my friend. She’s Kaitlyn the therapist, and I’m simply one of her patients.

Under these extenuating circumstances, I’m impressed she still has the strength to try to fix me. To still work, and forget everything else.

She reminds me of me.

I nod and smile. “That’s fair. Thank you.” I reach over and pick up my coffee. I move it toward my mouth to take a sip, but stop as I catch a glimpse inside the cup. I frown and look back over at her. “You say you’ll do whatever I say, without question, right?”

She nods.

“Good.” I hold the cup out to her. “Then take this shit away and get me a real drink! Seriously, what the fuck is this?”

She frowns and laughs at the same time. “It’s coffee!”

“Alright, listen…
this
isn’t coffee. For a start, it’s not black. It looks like an old lady’s diarrhea or something.”

She was just taking a sip of her own coffee when I said that. She stops mid-mouthful and puts the drink down on the table beside her chair. “And I’m no longer thirsty…”

I set my drink back down next to me. “I’m just saying, if we’re gonna be hanging out together, you need to learn what real coffee is. You see—”

The surgical consultant who came to see me last night just walked in. His eyes are red, and he looks very tired. Poor bastard must be on a long-ass shift if he’s been working through the night.

He smiles weakly at me. “Mr. Foley, how are you today?”

I shrug. “I’m okay.”

“Good. We’ve got you booked in for surgery in a couple hours. It’ll be myself performing the procedure. A nurse will be along in a few moments to fit the cannula. Do you have any questions?”

“How long am I gonna be out for?”

He thinks about it. “Hard to say exactly, but your x-ray suggests the damage is moderate at best, so barring any complications, I’d say the procedure shouldn’t last any longer than an hour.”

I let out a frustrated breath. I’m the target for a dangerous assassin, and I’m going to be completely defenseless… An hour’s going to feel like a lifetime!

“Okay, thanks, Doc.” He nods and leaves. I look at Kaitlyn. “I need you to do me a favor. Get my cell out of my shorts’ pocket and call Pierce—his number’s programmed in. Explain what’s happening and tell him I need either him personally, or some of his men, to get their asses down here and make sure I’m actually able to wake up from this goddamn operation. I know you can look after yourself, but if I’m out for an hour, there’s nothing to stop Lily walking in here and getting you, and I can’t have that.”

She nods, gets the phone from my shorts, and steps outside the room. I lean back, resting my head in the palm of my left hand. I hate this. For the first time in… possibly my entire life, I feel like a victim. I know I need this surgery, and I know I’m lucky it’s all I need after what we went through in Kaitlyn’s office yesterday. But asking The Order for help… Asking them to
protect
me… it doesn’t feel right. I don’t feel like
me
anymore. I don’t feel like Adrian Hell. I wanted him dead and gone, out of my life forever, but that plan went to shit a few months ago. So now he’s back, and I’m living that life again. But it’s not the same. It’s not how it used to be.
I’m
not how I used to be. It’s as if I’ve been… neutered. I mean, look at me! My head’s a goddamn mess—I dread to think what I’d be like if I didn’t have Kaitlyn… I’m nothing more than Horizon’s pet. His wild animal, reluctantly tamed and kept on a leash for his amusement. I’m hiding from someone who’s trying to kill me because I don’t feel like I can defend myself…

I let out a long, heavy, tired sigh.

Maybe I should just let Lily get to me during my operation… put me out of my fucking misery.

21

12:18
AST

Consciousness hits me like a lazy wave crashing over a shoreline. I keep my eyes closed as all my systems and senses fire up again, rebooting after a factory reset.

You have to be impressed with my computer metaphors, c’mon!

Instinctively, I try to move the fingers on my right hand.

Nothing.

Oh man, I hope the surgery worked.

I concentrate on my arm. I can feel something on it… something heavy and tight. I slowly, cautiously, open one eye and glance down. There’s a plastic cast molded to the outside of my forearm and held firmly in place by two black Velcro straps fastened over the inside, partially covering my tattoo. The top of it fits like a fingerless glove, with another strap fastened across my palm, which has bandages beneath it. There’s a final strap across my wrist.

Well, that explains why I can’t move my fingers. At least it’s secure, which I’m guessing is a sign the surgery went well and it’s been prepared for rehab.

I close my eye again and take some deep breaths. Since waking up, I’ve felt pretty nauseous. I don’t think general anesthesia agrees with me.

In fact…

I sit bolt upright, turn to my left and grab the cardboard sick bucket—you know, that thing that looks like an upside-down hat—and vomit.

Oh my God, that sucks…

I cough and spit the last bit out and sit back.

Well, I’m awake!

I look around the room. The sun is still bright outside, despite the blinds being closed at the window. I’m alone and the door is shut.

Kaitlyn!

No, wait.

She’ll be fine. Don’t get all wound up over nothing, Adrian. She’s probably just gone for a drink or something.

I hope she brings me some real coffee this time.

Oh, man, I feel like I’m going to throw up again.

…

…

…

No, false alarm.

God, I hate this. I can’t wait to get out of here. I need to head back to my place and grab a change of clothes and some more weapons. I have no idea where my car is. I parked it outside Kaitlyn’s office yesterday, but given how most things have turned to shit since then, it could be anywhere.

Damn it. I liked that car. I mean, I know I can just go and buy a new one with my bottomless credit card, but that just seems wasteful. Plus, right now I don’t want to give The Order the satisfaction of seeing me taking advantage of everything they’ve given me.

I’m drifting in and out in terms of my general awareness, because I’m still feeling the effects of the surgery, but I can’t help noticing how quiet it is. I haven’t seen one person pass by my room since I came to. There’s no equipment in here, which makes it easier to hear what’s going on in the corridor outside. But there’s nothing.

That’s weird.

It’s not even like it’s the middle of the night or something… It’s just after twelve, so you would expect any kind of medical facility to be busy.

Hmmm…

I shake my head. No, Adrian, just… stop. You’ve just had surgery and you’re not yourself—stop overthinking things. Kaitlyn would shout at you for it.

I smile to myself for a moment, but it fades quickly.

Who am I kidding? I don’t overthink anything. I worry, and I plan ahead, but the only thing I do unnecessarily is feel guilty—or so Kaitlyn tells me. I think it’s too quiet, and that’s because my spider sense is telling me it’s too goddamn quiet.

No rest for the wicked…

I swing my legs out of bed and place my feet tentatively down on the refreshingly cold floor. I stand slowly and remain still for a moment, allowing a fresh wave of nausea to pass. I quickly get dressed into my shorts, my torn, blood-stained T-shirt, and shoes. I shove my watch in my pocket, because I can’t fasten it around my left wrist with my busted right hand. I kneel down and retrieve the pillowcase of guns and ammo from underneath the bed, then empty the contents out onto the bed. I tuck one inside my waistband at my back. The steel is cold against my body, and the weight provides me with a welcome reassurance. I put both spare mags in my other pockets.

I keep hold of the other gun and head for the door. I catch my reflection in the long mirror mounted on the wall just behind it as I pass by. Jesus… I look like an extra from The Walking Dead. I adjust my T-shirt to cover the gun at my back and carefully open the door. I look up and down the hallway and frown. It’s like a ghost town out here. I’m seriously expecting a tumbleweed to roll past at any moment. I strain to listen for any sign of life, but I’m getting nothing. I edge out of the room, tightening my grip on the gun in anticipation.

I have a really bad feeling about this…

I head left and turn right at the end, toward the entrance. Another long corridor stretches out before me, well-lit and devoid of life. At the end, it veers toward the reception area. Halfway along, another corridor cuts across it. I walk on, trying to forget the constant nausea and the uneasiness of standing, and focus on running through every possible scenario I might come up against that will involve me squeezing the trigger.

I make it halfway and pause for a moment to check left and right.

It’s clear.

I carry on, but slow as I near the dogleg at the end. I can hear something approaching. It’s faint, but it’s getting louder with each step I take. I raise the gun slightly, preparing to fire if I need to. I’m maybe a hundred yards from the turn.

Oh shit…

I recognize the low clacking of footsteps ahead of me. It sounds like there are two people coming this way, walking quickly together. I clench my jaw muscles until my teeth ache. My brow furrows as I strain to focus. Whoever this is better have some answers for me…

I raise the gun in front of me and rest my finger gently on the trigger. It feels weird leading with my left, but I’m good enough with it that it won’t make a difference at this sort of distance.

Here we go…

Kaitlyn appears from around the corner, walking at an urgent pace. She sees me and slides to a stop, staring at me with a look of shock on her face. Lily appears a second later and stands beside her, sporting the same expression. Our eyes meet, but I don’t react. I’m just as surprised to see either of them, as they apparently are to see me.

I take a step toward them and snap my aim so the barrel is pointing at the center of Lily’s forehead. I glare at her with a ferocious and immediate fury. I’m willing the sudden rush of adrenaline and thirst for violence into my eyes, so I can release them in a controlled fashion, instead of rushing over to her and tearing her apart in a blind rage.

My gun doesn’t waver. “Step away, Lily, or I swear to God I’ll fucking shoot you.”

Our eyes are locked, each of us watching the other’s mind working, planning the next move, and the next, and the next… desperate to be the one who finds a way out of this standoff alive.

Lily nods without a word and takes a step to the side, putting some distance between them.

“Kaitlyn, are you alright?” I ask without looking at her.

“I—I’m fine… Listen, Adrian, this isn’t what it looks like. You need to hear what Lily has to say…”

I narrow my eyes and shake my head. “I don’t want to listen to her.” I turn to Lily. “There’s nothing you can say to make this better.”

She shrugs, but stays silent.

“Lose your weapon.”

She sighs and takes out her gun. She holds it loose, and then crouches and places it on the floor. When she stands, she holds her hands out to the side. “Look, Adrian, we need to talk, but now isn’t the time. You have to trust me. We need to—”

I scoff with disbelief. “
Trust
you? After everything you’ve done?”

Kaitlyn moves over to me. “Adrian, please. We need to get back to your room. It’s not what you think.”

I frown, confused. I look into her eyes. I see confidence… certainty… She knows something I don’t. I need to focus on that, not the fact Lily’s here.

I sigh. “Okay, but then someone’s telling me what the fuck is going on.”

Lily scoops her gun up off the floor and moves alongside me as the three of us head back to my room. We file inside quickly, and I close the door gently behind us. Kaitlyn sits down in her usual chair, and Lily moves around the bed and turns to face me.

I stay standing near the door and aim my gun at her again. “I know you were just protecting yourself, Lily, but dragging Kaitlyn into this was a real dick move.”

Kaitlyn shifts in the chair and looks at me. “Adrian, this isn’t about Lily. She’s—”

Lily steps forward and gestures with her own gun. “You don’t get it, do you? You can’t see what’s really going on here.”

She sounds impatient… frustrated. It just makes me angrier. How can
she
be frustrated with
me
?

I shake my head, bewildered. “Lily, you blew up Kaitlyn’s fucking office to get to me!
I’ve
been trying to think of a way out of this that doesn’t involve me killing you. You know I won’t ever take a contract without an explanation. I never intended to kill you. I wanted to talk, to find out what all this was about and figure a way out of it
together
. But you took it upon yourself to attack me first. You know how The Order works, you must have assumed Horizon would give me the contract on you, and you knew I couldn’t say no to him on account of our explosive tracking devices. So, yet again, you acted like an amateur—reacting without thinking. You hacked the signal to find me, and then you waited until I was with Kaitlyn before you tried to take me out.”

I’m short of breath, my adrenaline-fueled rage increasing my heart rate with every word.

She steps forward. “Have you finished?”

I shrug. “For the moment…”

She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Thank
God
for that. Listen, you’re right—I
do
know how The Order works. A lot better than you do. If Horizon wants an asset out of The Order, he plays mind games with them. He breaks them. He turns friends and other assets against them. He makes sure they die knowing he was
better
than they were.”