Page 161 of Bad Blood

I sit on the corner of the table beside her, lifting her chin so our eyes meet. “I’m here to help. He can’t get away with this.”

She swallows and whispers, “Agreed. But I need to catch him in the act.” She doesn’t need to elaborate. She has a plan, that much is clear.

“That’s where Liam comes in,” I say, offering him up as a sacrifice.

“No. I don’t want him more involved than he already is.”

“But I can help.” Both of us flip around to the sound of Liam’s voice.

He struts into the room, an all-knowing grin on his face.

“There’s no way. I won’t risk it. I’ll find another way.” Her grip on the laptop tightens, her knuckles turning white. “I thought you went upstairs.”

The corner of Liam’s mouth quirks up. “I got off the elevator. I never thought I’d use those arrow open buttons. Who knew?”

“How much did you hear?” Her hands ball into fists at her sides.

“Why didn’t you tell me your test was inconclusive?” Liam directs the question to me while simultaneously answering her question. “Did you get another one?”

“Didn’t think about it, and yes,” I answer.

“I have everything under control.” Brighton points toward the door, trying to get us to leave.

“Tell me you have a better idea than using me,” Liam says, throwing his arms wide seconds before another fit of coughs overtakes him.

She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, as if trying to stave off an oncoming headache. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under.” She releases a long, heavy sigh and shakes her head, avoiding eye contact.

“But we can help.” I toss around the idea of Liam being on the inside, even though I don’t like it. There has to be something we can do.

“It’s against protocol.” Her voice lowers. “I wasn’t supposed to keep you.”

I frown. “Liam?”

She drops her gaze to the floor, leaning against the wall next to the door. “We refer ES patients over the age of sixteen.”

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

She kept him.

For me.

“Are you in trouble?” Liam asks.

She shakes her head, saying no, but the tension in her shoulders says otherwise. “Dr. Matthews told me to transfer you, but after I explained everything, he agreed I could keep your case.”

“Is there a reason you don’t keep older ES patients?” I ask.

She twists the ring on her pinkie finger, her eyes meeting mine. And I can tell she doesn’t want to tell me.

“I can handle it,” I say as Liam starts coughing. He holds up a finger, hacking into his fist.

Her eyes meet mine. “Because of the remission rate.”

“Being below fifteen percent.”

She nods toward the door, taking Liam by the arm. “You need an X-ray.”

“Fine. But I’m serious, I want to help.” Liam pulls out of her grasp, rubbing a fist over his chest.

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