Page 168 of Bad Blood

“If I’m under his care, you can keep an eye on things. See if he messes with anything.”

“He’s been doing it under my nose this whole time, and I didn’t know it.”

“But now you’re aware,” Liam says as he sits next to her, forcing his way onto the bench so she has to close the distance between us. A zing of electricity courses between where our bodies touch.

“Would he be suspicious? If Liam asked to change doctors, would you get in trouble?” I ask, realizing she’s only focused on half of the problem.

“Maybe. He’s already keeping tabs. He might just lord it over me to prove he’s in the right and I’m in the wrong. This could work.” She leaps up from between us, pulling her thumbnail to her mouth.

“I still don’t like it.” I drop my head back, staring up at the cloudless sky through the thick overhead branches. “Couldn’t you go to the police, tell them your theory?”

“I have.”

“And besides, it doesn’t matter what you think.” Liam jabs me in the side with his pointy elbow.

I don’t voice the other half of Liam’s reason for the change in providers. The last thing I want is for her to think I’m agreeing to this for my benefit, and I’d never admit that the idea of us is replaying on a highlight reel inside my head.

Despite what Liam says about not caring how things go between Brighton and me, I can still tell he’s reticent to let me off the hook when it comes to how I deal with things.

“If you switch to his care, I can’t guarantee he won’t do something while I’m not around. We rarely check on each other’s patients, so I won’t always know about what’s going on.”

Brighton’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent the things inside my head from spilling out of my mouth. I don’t want Kline near Liam. It’s too damn dangerous. And she’s right. She can’t control what goes on when she’s not around.

“What are the chances of that?” Liam says, leaning forward as he braces himself with his elbows on his knees.

“Pretty high. He seems to make changes when he’s by himself, so he doesn’t get caught. It’s too risky.”

“Finally,” I shout, my enthusiasm getting the better of me. A group of people passing by turn to see what the commotion is about. “I’m glad you agree. It’s not worth it.”

“You didn’t let me finish. I have something else in the works, something to do with the murder victims.” She squats between the two of us, making eye contact with Liam as she all but ignores my existence and fiddles with the ring on her pinkie.

“You think he’s involved with the murders?” I dart from my seat, sure I misunderstood her.

She hangs her head but doesn’t confirm or deny the accusation before she continues. “If you want to move forward with this on Monday, I think it could work.”

Liam socks me in the arm. “I told you. As long as you’re sure it’s him, I’m down—murderer or not.”

“He won’t have Liam past Wednesday, promise.” She directs this part to me, still ignoring the mention of Kline involved with the murders.

“I think this is a bad idea.”

She turns her attention back to Liam. “I don’t want you to be alone with him. Ever. Do you understand? And remember, don’t trust anything that comes out of his mouth. Once you ask to transfer, he’ll take great satisfaction in knowing he was right about me not being able to handle your care. You don’t know the extremes he’ll go through to teach me a lesson. I don’t trust him, and that means you’re in the room. Don’t leave.” She turns to stare at me, waiting for me to agree.

“I want it on record that I do not think this is a good idea,” I say through clenched teeth. “But I won’t leave them alone.” I don’t like the idea of consenting to something that puts him at risk, even if it is only for a few days.

“Do you trust me?” She knocks her shoulder into my knee, and a fire engulfs where our skin touches. My heightened awareness of her every move and the way it feels when we touch is all-consuming.

“I’ll answer for you . . . of course he does.” Liam grins and stands, stretching as he coughs and waggles his brow. “In more ways than one.”

My face heats, and I dive for him, but he darts out of my reach.

“Hey,” Brighton scolds, “watch his hip.”

I flex my jaw and narrow my eyes at him.

“Doctor’s orders,” he says with a smile.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Crissy interrupts, jogging to a stop a couple of feet away from us. Her purse slips off her shoulder, and she catches it in her hand as she grins at me.

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