Page 50 of Bloom: Part 2

He walked over to a chair that had an opening in the seat. I could only imagine what it was used for. He gestured to the bed, but I shook my head.

“I’ll stand if it doesn’t bother you.”

“Can’t abide people looming over me. I’m assured they sanitize the rooms thoroughly, Dr. Collier. You won’t catch syphilis from sitting on the bed.”

As a doctor, I knew very well how people transmitted syphilis. I smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. After all, he’d made the long journey to see me after I’d been ignoring his calls.

“Now let’s get down to business,” Livingston said. “I’m relieved you called because I was starting to think you’d given up on the idea of living. Back at the office, I already have someone working on a new identity for—”

“Not so fast.” I held up a hand. “It’s not definite that I want a new identity.”

“I’m confused. What else could this meeting be about?”

“I’m not saying I won’t consider another identity, but—”

“Consider? Your family has been after your head for years. You don’t think that incident at the hospital has reached them? Do you have a death wish? In all my years of working with WITSEC, I’ve never lost an informant, and I’m not about to lose one now.”

I clenched my hands into fists. Informant. Even now, the word felt dirty, like I’d done something wrong when all I’d done was make a way for myself to leave a life I never wanted.

A life that gave you what you have. What do you think paid for your fancy education?

Pop’s words echoed in my head, and I swallowed. I wasn’t just a whistleblower. I was a disgrace to the Agosti family. Keegan Agosti was the name other crime families used to set their kids straight.

“There has been a slight change to the situation.”

“In what way?”

“I’m in a relationship with someone. I need to know to what extent WITSEC will also offer him protection.”

Livingston blinked, and his mouth stayed open for a second too long. He coughed into his fist. “Ah, well, we assess the level of threat, dependence and commitment, and their cooperation with our requirements. Excuse me, but I wasn’t aware you’d gotten married?”

“We’re not…married. Not yet. Is it a problem if we aren’t?”

“It depends. The program automatically offers protection to a spouse and children, but we would have to assess other situations. How long have you been together?”

I shifted on the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable. “Not long.”

“What do you consider not long? A year?”

“Two months.” A stretch of the truth.

“Two months?” He snapped his head up. “It is highly unlikely for protection to extend to someone who you’ve been together with for such a short time. That poses a great security risk, even if we provide you with a new identity. In this case, we would recommend cutting ties and—”

“Absolutely not.”

Not if I could help it. Leaving Bloom was the last resort. If I’d wanted to leave him, I would have done so while he was still in the hospital and incapable of coming after me.

“The WITSEC program is effective, Dr. Collier, because we have certain requirements we cannot budge on. Such a new relationship is not stable enough to justify the risks and resources involved in including your boyfriend. You know well enough that he will be required to sever all previous ties and adhere to strict secrecy. Introducing someone you’ve known only for two months into the program carries a tremendous risk of exposure. Need I remind you we’ve already had to establish a new identity for you twice since you’ve been in the program?”

But I couldn’t leave without Bloom. Livingston couldn’t understand how much Bloom meant to me. He measured the commitment in our relationship because of the time we’d been together, but for Bloom and me, it was measured by the extent we would go for each other.

“What if we get married?”

The frown he wore said he wasn’t happy with this decision. “I would caution you against making that decision, but yes, if you got married, we are obligated to protect him.”

I nodded. That was all I wanted to know. If I had to disappear, Bloom could come with me. He would have to leave the motorcycle club and all his brothers behind. But he would do it if I asked him. I was confident about that. But would he be happy, or would the sparkle in his eyes dim day by day?

“Pardon me for asking, Dr. Collier, but you wouldn’t be referring to that young man whose name has been attached to yours in the news, would you? Bloom, is it?”

---