Page 173 of Bad Blood

“Shhh. Someone’s coming.”

Liam drops his head to the side, his breaths more exaggerated than they were a second ago, and I stifle a laugh, shaking my head at the absurdity of his idea.

The likelihood of us failing is more than I want to admit. If something happens because Liam volunteered to be an idiot—I force my thoughts in a different direction. I can’t think of the what-ifs.

Brighton needs some time to get things figured out—I keep telling myself this—but it still feels wrong.

My phone vibrates from my back pocket, and I pull it free as the curtain rolls along the rail and a nurse steps into the area.

Brighton: He transferred because he saw the news broadcast. You’ll have to come up with the details. Delete this text.

I re-read it. Twice. Then delete. My wheels turn, but my mind’s blank.

The nurse steps past me, trying to engage me in a conversation I ignore as he injects something into Liam’s port.

“I’m Phillip. If you have questions, you can ask for me. Lauren’s still available if you need anything.”

I stop watching when Liam flinches, my stomach churning with a nauseating twist. The two of them start a jilted conversation that I tune out as I try to think of some details and resume my pacing.

Phillip pulls open the curtain and taps Liam on the foot, ignoring when he winces. “Rest. I’ll be back at the end of treatment. Do you want some ice?”

Liam nods and pinches his eyes closed as I turn to watch Phillip leave.

“Is he gone?” Liam whispers a second after the curtain closes.

“Yes, but I’m sure he heard you.” I smack his shoulder.

“Get some rest,” comes from the other side of the curtain as footsteps trail away. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Liam peeks at me through one eye, a grin spreading across his face as his phone chimes.

I pull it from under his hat on the counter.

Crissy: Hope you’re feeling better. We still on for later?

My fingers race across the screen, pretending to type out a response. I peek at Liam from the corner of my eye and see the panic on his face before I toss it to him.

He catches it and drops his head back against the seat, closing his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say anything to her. Geez, you need to give me more credit than that.”

“You don’t have the best track record.” He types out something and presses send, stuffing his phone underneath his leg. “Crissy’s going to swing by tonight.”

“I’ll make sure to be gone. Go back to pretending you’re asleep.” I grab the edge of the curtain and sneak a quick look around the oncology floor. Dr. Matthews exits the elevator as the doors slide open. He stops, places a hand over the elevator door so it doesn’t close, and discusses something with Phillip before he points in our direction.

“Shit.” I yank the curtain closed, turning on my heel. “I think he saw me.”

Liam’s eyes fly open. “What? He’s coming?”

“Shh. Pretend you’re sleeping or something.”

My eyes dart around the room, searching for something to distract me from the fact that I got caught spying. Dr. Matthews clears his voice on the other side of the curtain and enters the room. Our eyes meet. I expect a smile or something, but his face remains stone-cold. His blank expression creates a new level of dread inside me.

“Dr. Matthews,” I say, biting back concern, my voice coming out strained and shaky. The muscles in my jaw tighten, mirroring the tension that coils in my stomach.

“Call me Kline. Can I speak to you alone? Liam will be here for another thirty minutes.” He nods his head toward the curtain, asking me to follow him. When I don’t move, he tears his gaze from Liam and eyes me. The steady rise and fall of Liam’s chest would make one think he’s asleep. I have to say I’m impressed.

“I’m not comfortable leaving him.” I cross my arms over my chest, a sense of protectiveness flooding through me.

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