Page 87 of Bad Blood

“No, should I be?”

Kline lifts his shoulders to his ears and murmurs through a mouthful. “Depends.”

“On what?”

He shovels in another bite. “I wanted to ask you something.”

I don’t have the energy for a conversation right now. Kline ignores me as I turn to scoot out of the booth and push to stand with a yawn.

He glances up at me and gives me a cockeyed grin as his eyes scan over my body at a glacial pace. Margo said something about me being his type, but I don’t ruminate over the thought long. A shiver races along my spine, and I swallow down my disgust.

I swallow my doubt and replay what happened, trying to convince myself I didn’t see what I thought I saw.

He wipes a hand over his facial scruff, and he yawns. The shadow under his eyes is darker, and his skewed hair stands on end. Something’s off.

“. . . at his chart, but I figured you already knew.”

“What?” I whip my head up, unsure of when I stopped listening.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on the kid’s chart?”

I set a hand on the back of the booth and lower myself into the seat a fraction at a time. “I . . . yes.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“No, what about Liam’s chart? What am I supposed to know?”

“The findings of his CT. You’ve gone over them.”

“Top to bottom, two or three times. Did you have questions?” Another reference to Liam’s scan. He’s worried about how I’m handling his care and wants to make sure everything’s going as expected. I haven’t given him anything to make him doubt my abilities, and I wish he’d back off. “Why are you here?”

“I told you . . . I wanted to make sure you’re fine with everything.” He returns to shoveling in more salad. A couple of seconds pass before he fixes me at the center of his attention.

I lean across the table, copying his posture and hand position. “Couldn’t be better.”

He narrows his gaze and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Interesting.”

I grab my leather bag from the seat, turn, and stalk out of the cafeteria, struggling with the fact that he didn’t say anything else. That’s uncharacteristic of him, especially considering the fact that he brought up Liam. Again.

I’m starting to doubt he feels comfortable with the choice he made to let me keep him. But I’ll fight for Liam, tooth and nail, to show his case is worth it. And to prove myself.

“Keep me updated on the next couple of weeks of chemo,” he hollers from behind me.

I stop mid-step and go rigid but don’t turn. “You got it.” Why does it feel like I’m being disciplined for a mistake I haven’t made? I round the corner and dash to the elevator, jamming my thumb into the button. “Hurry . . . Hurry . . .”

There is only so much time in the day, and the last thing I want to do is spend it talking to Kline about things we’ve already gone over.

The numbers light up in the display above the doors, and I bounce back and forth on my heels as it stops two floors up.

I whip my head around again, checking to make sure I’m alone, and pause when Kline steps out of the cafeteria, shaking hands with a couple of men who head in the opposite direction.

Why me?

He stops beside me, lacing his fingers together behind his back. “I glanced over Liam’s chart after his vitamin infusion. I have to admit, I’m worried.”

I tear my eyes from the elevator and glare at him. I don’t have the desire or time to go back over the intricacies of Liam’s case with Kline.

“You need to hear this,” he continues, “straight from my mouth—I don’t like it.”

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