Page 152 of Bad Blood

“And whose fault is that?” He returns to pecking my cheeks, nose, and eyelids. I giggle, surprised by his sudden show of affection. “Point.”

“That’s not fair.” I push at him, trying to create some space.

“I’m winning.” He takes my hand and pulls open the door.

“For now.”

The breeze whirls around us, making my skin crawl. The yellow caution tape flaps in the wind, and a floating sensation settles over me. The moment doesn’t seem real; it’s like we’re teetering with one foot in the present and one foot in the past.

I swallow the nauseous feeling climbing my throat as I pinch my eyes closed and focus on the feeling of his hand holding mine, holding me together. My heart all but stops beating as he pulls me out the door and onto the landing.

He gives me an encouraging smile. With a shaking, horrified breath, I force my eyes to his and smile back. He squeezes my hand as if seeing me smile is reassuring. Like, maybe I’m okay.

But I’m not.

I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.

The breeze whips my hair across my face, and I drop my hand from Dax’s, brushing the loose strands behind my ears.

“Dr. Fields,” a voice comes from the sidewalk, and I turn to see who it’s coming from. “I should have figured you’d be around. Seems like trouble follows wherever you go.”

Nausea tosses my stomach. The control it takes me not to turn and flee is all-consuming.

Dax’s forehead scrunches like he isn’t sure what he’s seeing. At the last second, he grabs me and shoves me behind him, shielding me with his body. “No comment.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Chris Jenks’ snarky voice says as he climbs my steps.

“She doesn’t know anything.” Dax steps back, forcing me against the door.

Jenks doesn’t look convinced.

“Let me talk to him,” I say, making my way out from behind Dax’s body.

The surprised, smug look on Jenks’ face doesn’t go unnoticed. He holds up a mic, waving his cameraman in our direction.

I wrap my arms over my chest. “This is off the record.”

“Nope, we don’t do that.” Jenks straightens his sports coat as the cameraman climbs the remaining steps.

“Then this conversation is over.” I plod across the landing, pretending I have nothing to say. Dax guards me as I twist the handle and wait for Jenks to change his mind.

“Fine, off the record. But he’s got to go.” Jenks points the mic at Dax as he turns.

My eyes meet Dax’s as I take a couple of steps away from him, and he shakes his head, trying to convince me to let him stay and for me to keep my mouth shut. But four women have been murdered. Three of them work at my hospital. The cops have no leads. And I need to send someone a message.

“Not happening.” Dax’s voice is thick from a lack of sleep as he grabs the crook of my arm and pulls me back toward him.

I place a hand over Dax’s and squeeze. “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. I need to do this,” I say, my voice unsteady. I take a peek over my shoulder, once again finding the caution tape flapping as a reminder that I need to do everything I can to ensure there are no more victims.

“I’m watching from inside,” Dax threatens. His nostrils flare as he steps around me, poking Jenks in the chest.

Jenks stumbles back, almost tripping off the landing before he catches his balance. “It’s only a few questions.”

Dax retreats to the door and toes the cement, not wanting to cross the threshold and leave me out here alone but slams the door after I give him a reassuring nod.

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