Page 167 of Bad Blood

My phone is on the table where I left it. We look at each other. There’s a second of hesitation, and Liam reaches for it.

And I let him beat me. Again.

“She won’t answer.” I cross my arms over my chest, pretending to hate how the little shit is faster than me and my chicken legs.

“Maybe she will.”

“Let me do this.” He holds out the phone, unable to unlock it, and coughs again, pinching his eyes closed. “I’ll make sure everything is a go before I talk to Dr. Matthews, but that won’t change anything. What you do with this is up to you. But I’m not gonna stand in your way.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” he teases.

I can appreciate what he’s trying to do. There’s no telling if Brighton will take things further with us or which way she’ll choose. And I hate that it fucking terrifies me.

“I think this is a bad idea.”

“Call her. This is your green light. Make it so it’s not awkward when we’re at the hospital. I still have treatment for a while, and we need to get things moving if we’re going to catch him.” He yawns, dropping back in the recliner.

No offense to Liam, but I wish he wouldn’t have put us in this situation. I can’t place all the blame on him because it’s mostly my fault. I guess I was more obvious than I realized.

“What am I supposed to say to her?” I trudge through the living room and grab my keys off the counter.

“That’s up to you. I don’t want to be the reason you look back on your life and wish things were different.”

Even though I want Brighton as Liam’s doctor, he’s right; she is still on the team, and nothing stands in our way except me.

“I’ll talk to her, make sure things aren’t a complete disaster. Need anything?”

“Can I come?” He leans over the arm of the recliner, rubbing Axel’s velvety soft ears.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’s worth a shot.” I get a grin, and he hands me my phone. “She wants to meet at the park. I mean what I said. I’m doing this for you. Don’t waste it.” His words are slow. Deliberate. He gives me a playful grin before stuffing his feet in his shoes. “I’ll figure out everything else.”

47

The Perfect Excuse

Dax

Saturday, June 10 th

6:43 p.m.

“I’m not mad,” Brighton says, pinching her nose between her fingers.

She

sits on the bench beside me, swinging her legs, but keeps her gaze trained on the path, her expression contorted by the shadows of the trees overhead.

“But it doesn’t make sense.”

“It does, actually. We’d have someone on the inside.” Her wheels start turning. She’s planning something, but what? I never thought she’d put Liam at risk, but she’s considering it, whether or not I like it.

“Told you it was a good idea,” Liam adds, ending his nonstop pacing in front of us as he wraps his arms over his middle.

“I didn’t say I agreed.” Her voice is tight, defensive. “I don’t know if it would work.”

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