Page 166 of Bad Blood

“I don’t think she has anything else.”

“Why the fuck do you need to be involved? I don’t like it. What if he does something stupid while you’re under his care?”

“For you.” It comes out as a whisper. He pulls his shoulders to his ears and continues to look anywhere but at me. “And I want to help.”

“What does changing your doctor have to do with me? And how would it help?” My phone vibrates from the coffee table, and he stretches for it, getting to it a second before I do.

“She says she’s busy and can talk later.” Worry spreads across his brow. “That doesn’t sound good.”

I pluck the phone from his hand, reading her text. “It doesn’t sound good or bad. I don’t see how you can infer how a text sounds.”

“If someone sent me that, I’d be shitting bricks.”

“Not if you’re considering it. And putting yourself in danger won’t help. What if something happens that Brighton isn’t able to fix? Or worse, what if she’s too late?”

“I didn’t think about that, but I don’t think she’d agree to my plan if she has any doubts.”

“But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“And I don’t care. If she agrees, I think we can catch Kline in the act.”

“It’s too risky.”

“I don’t want to stand in your way. And me changing doctors can fix things in more ways than one, don’t you get that?” He flicks out both hands, palms up.

I’m speechless. I hate how he does this. He puts me first to the detriment of his own needs, and it kills me. Every. Fucking. Time.

“This is stupid. We’ll figure out another way. You need her. We need her. I’m not letting you put yourself at risk. Whatever you think I want or need—it has nothing to do with her being your doctor. Your treatment is more important. No matter what. Don’t you understand?”

“I’ll make sure Dr. Matthews knows it has nothing to do with her quality of care. But I think this will work.”

“I don’t care.”

“This is my life, and I can do with it what I want.”

I start pacing, fully appreciating why Liam found comfort in it before. There’s something therapeutic about it. Something that helps the flow of frustration. Something that deflects my need to strangle him.

“I saw you.”

“Saw me what?”

“With her. And I get it.”

“Dammit, Liam, why are you doing this?” I replay our interaction from earlier. I can’t pinpoint any instance when we treated each other any differently than we had any time before.

“To make things easier.”

“It’s not worth it.” I grind my teeth, not knowing where or how to release the tension. I’m losing my patience.

“She’s not?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“See! She’s on Dr. Matthews’ team. She’s gonna be there, working alongside him, and we can be on the inside.”

“Not if it gets her in trouble.” I come to a standstill.

“Don’t you think I already know that? Give me your phone. I’ll talk to her and make sure she’s on board.”

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