Page 194 of Bad Blood

“Fuck.” He takes his hat from his head and chucks it across the living room.

“I can help you. There has to be an explanation. We can figure it out.”

He drops back onto the sofa, shaking his head. I wanted to offer him comfort before, but nothing compares to how badly I want to hold him and tell him everything will be okay, even if I don’t know that it’s true.

“Why us? After everything else . . .” his voice cracks and he closes his eyes.

I don’t know what to say, so I take his hand in mine, and we sit in silence. Seconds turn into minutes. Minutes into an hour. He clears his throat, and it’s all I can do not to cry for him.

“Are you hungry?”

“Sushi?” I grin, appreciating his need for a distraction.

“I want to see something.” His stomach growls, and he leans over the coffee table to grab the remote. He clicks on the TV and flips through the channels until he lands on Fox 5’s breaking news broadcast. He pulls me into his chest as he leans back on the cushions, readjusting his sling. “Just watch my arm.”

I flinch when his lips meet the skin at my collarbone, and he brushes his thumb across the bruise, anger rolling off of him despite his gentle touch.

He pulls me tighter, and I nuzzle against him, closing my eyes. He’s silent, but I can feel the tension evaporating between us.

“. . . confirmed that Dr. Kline Matthews has been put on administrative leave after new evidence was brought against him, directly tying him to the malpractice . . .”

I push off his chest, reaching for the remote to turn up the volume. Jenks’ douchebag face stares at me from the screen, along with a photo of Kline in the top right corner. It’s his photo from the hospital website. He’s all clean and pristine. I picture how the image would look different now with the stitches across his brow, swollen eye, and bruises.

How could a man who had it all be so willing to throw it away without a second thought?

Unless he didn’t. Unless he’s not.

Maybe it was for power, control—or maybe a fight to gain back his lack of control.

“. . . along with the proof confirming his attempt to commit insurance fraud. The depositions will start on June twenty-ninth. The unnamed physician tied to the initial claims of the lawsuit is cleared of all charges and is not expected to testify at trial regarding the insurance scheme.”

My reaction to Jenks’ question about the snitch at the hospital is not one of my finer moments. But I never expected him to have the audacity to show up on my doorstep and make a fool out of me, and I’ll never forgive him.

“They don’t mention the assault.” Dax’s expression shifts as he turns to face me.

“Or the murders.”

“I’m sure they can’t until they can prove it.”

“Why’s he the one reporting this?”

“He’s their top reporter,” Dax says, reaching over me to turn down the volume.

“But he’s been at everything.”

“It could be coincidence.”

“Or not.”

I yawn, my body drooping without my consent. “I need to sleep. You should go home, get some rest. I’ll eat cereal.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” He brushes a hair out of my face.

“I’m exhausted. And I’m not going to be good company. I have a door camera and a security system. Kline’s behind bars and hasn’t made bail. I’m safe.”

“If he’s really the murderer,” he jokes.

“Not funny.”

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