Page 8 of Bad Blood

I jam my key into the lock and enter my office as Lauren asks, “Need me to come get you?” Her brow creases with worry.

“Luca said they need to talk to Kline too. They can start with him. I’ll be on time. I always am.” I give her a half-hearted smile. “I have something I need to take care of.” I don’t leave room for argument, closing the door behind me.

I fall into my chair, already opening my laptop to delve into the online reports of the lawsuit again. I need to make sure my material is correct. I piece together fragments of information from different websites, but each one contradicts the next, and the supposed facts behind what’s going on with the malpractice start to disintegrate.

A resolve crystallizes in me, along with my need to confront this head-on. My commitment to the well-being of my patients remains unwavering as I sift through the intricacies of the lawsuit. The allegations are complex and intertwined with patient outcomes, medical decisions, and a death.

All at the hands of one person. Kline continues to pop up from one page to the next. His promotions. His speeches. His rights and his wrongs. But there’s no mention of my name being attached.

Anywhere.

It doesn’t make sense. Luca mentioned it, and Jenks won’t drop it. Is there something they’re not telling me?

My thoughts continue to tangle as the weight of this becomes too real. I will not let Kline hold this over me.

Not again.

3

Distraction Tactics

Dax

Tuesday, May 9 th

8:20 a.m.

Approximately one hundred and seven deaths take place every minute.

And I’m about to add to the statistics.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?” I ask as I slide into the booth across from my younger brother, annoyed he insisted I meet him this early at his favorite diner.

We could have gotten this whole thing over with last night if he hadn’t locked himself away in his room. Either the urgency for me to meet him this morning means this isn’t as bad as I think, and he’s hoping I won’t overreact because there are people around, or it’s worse.

It’s one lab test—for fuck’s sake—one explanation.

I’m hoping what I presume about the results is wrong and things aren’t as bad as I fear.

I’m all too aware that fear is about perception. I have a fear of dying. I have a fear of losing my brother. I have a fear of being out of control. And it’s the fear of the unknown that gets me.

“My brain needed a break.” Liam glances at me over his phone, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

I set my hand on top of his wrist and press it down until the phone no longer covers his face. “Perfect. Start talking.”

He sets the phone on his open psychology book, using it as a bookmark, and closes it as he leans back in the booth and crosses his arms over his chest with a sneer.

He knows exactly how to get on my nerves. And his silence is at the top of the list. I could force my hand, play the I’m the parent card on him, or wait him out. There’s no quicker way to get him to clam up and shut down than to force his hand when he’s not ready.

But my patience is wearing thin. My mind is spinning, and I start catastrophizing. My thoughts slip further away, and a growing wave of irritation washes over me. I don’t want to take it out on Liam, but it’s about to boil over. I play the what-if game as a distraction while I pretend to glance over the menu and ignore the elephant in the room.

And wait.

Until the silence is too much for him and he finally speaks.

“My blood work is off,” he says, finally breaking the silence.

“What does that mean?” My fingers tighten along the edges of the menu. I don’t want to give away that I need more than that, with the off chance that he’ll stop talking.

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