He rubbed a hand over his forehead and blinked away the confusion. “Shit, I wasn’t that far off with the dollhouse comment.” The sharp corner of a frame dug into the pad of his thumb as he picked it up. The picture inside was a black and white landscape that looked like it had come with the frame.
He cut a sidelong look at Tobias. “This is a stage.”
“My list.” Tobias ignored Soren’s observation and sat down at the desk instead, pulling a legal pad and pen from a drawer. He began scrawling names in perfect, precise cursive.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
When he’d written twenty names, Soren reached out and gently halted the movement of the pen. “You can’t take out all these people. You’ll be arrested somewhere between five and eight. Maybe less.”
“I would play a long game, of course. It would take me years.” Tobias set the pen down, leaned back in the chair, and laced his fingers atop the waistband of his shorts.
Seeing the doctor at his desk without a shirt on threw Soren. He would’ve cracked a joke, but Tobias’s solemn expression had him refraining. Soren wanted to tell him that even a long game wasn’t a good option, but he bit his tongue and tried to pretend it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be kicked out. After all, if Tobias’s endeavors were impossible, what was the point in keeping Soren around as a quasi-mentor?
Soren tapped the top of the list. “I know a couple of these names.”
“I imagine you do.” Tobias offered him a wry smile. “I have no interest in digging around the heads of the average criminal or crime lord. I deal only with the cream of the crop, as it were.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Soren hesitated. “Do we have...what’s it called, doctor-patient privileges?”
“Are you my patient now?”
“No.” Soren didn’t like that idea at all. “But how about you consider me your patient for the next five minutes?”
“I’ll do that if you, in turn, will agree to answer five questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Anything I want, any time I want. And you will answer them honestly.”
“How will you know if I—”
Tobias pushed out of the desk chair abruptly and rested his hip against the mahogany surface, disconcertingly close. Soren could smell his skin, his deodorant. “I’ll know if you’re lying. Plus,” Tobias added, seemingly one step ahead of Soren—a feeling that discomfited Soren as much as it excited him, “you do have your own code of ethics. Don’t waste your breath trying to convince me otherwise. I picked up on that during our first meeting.”
Soren considered him a moment, then nodded. “Five questions.”
Solemn-faced, Tobias made a dramatic gesture. “Doctor-patient privileges are now officially invoked.”
“So you do have a sense of humor.” Soren smirked.
“When it suits me. So, what about these names?”
Soren twisted the list around to face him. “It’s just that at least five of these guys should be taken care of sooner rather than later.” Soren tapped one of the names. “Pretty sure that guy’s already dead.”
“You’re the one taking care of them?” Tobias narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“No, not just me.” Soren blew out a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a long story, and there’s plenty of it that’s best for you not to know and best for me not to tell you.” He didn’t want to get into the trafficking ring Cas and Jonah had uncovered and the subsequent deadpool that had been released onto the dark web if he didn’t have to. “But maybe this time when I say you should trust that these guys will be taken care of, you’ll actually listen to me. If you want to get your killing jollies, pick some random lowlifes that won’t be connected to you.” He grinned at Tobias’s expression. “Ah, see,youhave a code of ethics, too.” He finger gunned the doctor. “Don’t try to convince me otherwise. I picked up on that during our first meeting,” he parroted.
Tobias cocked his head at Soren then burst into laughter, the sound surprisingly warm and genuine. One of the nicer laughs Soren had heard, although the fact that he was chuffed at having caused it concerned him just a bit.
“I’ll keep that in mind. And I’ll consider what you’ve said.” Tobias returned the pad of paper and pen to the drawer. “Dinner’s ready.” With a saucy wink Soren wouldn’t have guessed him capable of, the doctor swept past him in a rush of sweat and soap, calling over his shoulder, “Your lack of subtlety as it pertains to ogling my ass is interesting, too.”
Soren grinned. “Did I hear a question in that? Is that one of the five?”
