I was driving home on the I-10 at 4 AM this morning. Eyes burning, scrubs smelling like hospital-grade disinfectant and regret. I needed something to keep me awake that wasn't another lukewarm coffee. I picked Big Get-Even because the title sounded like something I wish I could do to the hospital admin who denied my vacation request.
Look, sometimes you don't want high art. You want a couple of desperate people trying to scam a rich jerk out of twenty million dollars. It's therapeutic. (Don't tell my patients I said that.)
The Voice That Smokes Two Packs a Day
Let's talk about Keith Szarabajka. I probably butchered that spelling—sorry, Keith. But man, this guy's voice.
It's gravel and whiskey. It's the voice of that one attending physician who's been working in the ER since 1985 and has absolutely zero patience left for nonsense. That same worn-down, morally ambiguous energy shows up in Strange Case of Jekyll and Hyde (Version 4 - Dramatic Reading)—different century, same vibe of smart people making catastrophically bad choices. He narrates Glen, this disbarred lawyer, with this perfect mix of "I'm the smartest guy in the room" and "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing." It works.
Usually, when male narrators do female voices, I cringe. Hard. It's usually this breathy, helpless tone that makes me want to yell at my dashboard. But Szarabajka's take on Vee—the femme fatale of the group—was actually... scary. Icy. He didn't make her sound weak; he made her sound like she'd key your car and then smile about it. I appreciated that.
When the Shift Drags
Here's the thing though—and maybe it was just my exhaustion talking—but the middle of this book felt like the 3 AM slump. You know, when the ER is quiet, but you can't sleep, and time just... stretches.
The setup is great. Lawyer meets arsonist. They plan a scam. Classic. But getting to the actual payoff took a while. I found myself checking the track progress at red lights, wondering if they were ever going to actually pull the trigger on the plan. If you're listening, crank the speed up. Seriously. 1.25x is your friend here.
Also—and I'm just gonna say it—some of the writing felt a little... old school? And not in a charming vintage way. More in a "men writing women" way that had me rolling my eyes. (Carlos tells me I'm too sensitive about this stuff, but he's not the one getting called "sweetheart" by drunk patients while starting an IV). It wasn't a dealbreaker, just... noticeable. A little gritty in a way that felt dated rather than noir.
The Payoff (Wait, That's It?)
I got to the end right as I pulled into my driveway. Sat there with the engine running because I hate leaving a chapter unfinished.
The ending hits you fast. Like, "patient discharged before you finished charting" fast. It felt a bit abrupt, maybe even like the author hit a word count limit and just wrapped it up. But the twist? Okay, I didn't see it coming. And I usually predict the end of these things by chapter three. (Occupational hazard—you learn to spot patterns). Deception Point pulled off a similar surprise on me—another con within a con that I should've caught but didn't.
It's not perfect. It's messy, a little slow in the middle, and the characters are all terrible people. But honestly? After a twelve-hour shift of trying to save people who don't listen to medical advice, listening to bad people do bad things to each other was exactly the decompression I needed.
Who's This For?
If you need a morally uncomplicated palate cleanser after dealing with too many humans—grab this. Night shift workers, long commuters, anyone who fantasizes about revenge schemes but would never actually do it. Skip it if you need likeable protagonists or tidy endings. My mom would hate it. She likes happy endings. This isn't that. It's just... satisfyingly dirty.
