Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO WANTED HIM DEADLiam stared at the photograph.
Adrian Mercer.
Thirty-six.
Younger by six years.
Same pale blue eyes.
Same dark hair.
Different soul.
Or perhaps, Liam thought bitterly, exactly the same soul.
“You’re sure?”
Leo placed phone records beside the photograph.
“Burner connected to Adrian’s driver. Payments went through a shell company in Montreal. Shooter we picked up yesterday confirmed the route.”
Liam’s hand tightened around the file.
The movement pulled his abdominal wound.
He barely noticed.
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“Find him.”
“Already working on it.”
Liam looked toward the sunlight Clara had allowed into the room.
Minutes earlier, he had felt something dangerously close to hope.
Now his world had returned to its natural state.
Betrayal.
Violence.
Blood.
“Close the curtains.”
Leo hesitated.
“Merc—”
“Close them.”
Before Leo could move, Clara entered carrying medication.
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
Clara glanced between them.
“I just got his sleep schedule moving in the right direction.”
“Leave us,” Liam said.
“Medication first.”
“Clara.”
“Liam.”
Leo stared at the ceiling.
Nobody spoke to Liam that way.
Clara walked to the bed.
Then she saw the photograph.
“Family?”
Liam flipped it facedown.
“None of your business.”
“Correct.”
She handed him his medication.
He swallowed it.
Clara checked his pulse.
Fast.
“Something upset you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your pulse says otherwise.”
“Perhaps my nurse irritates me.”
“That condition appears chronic.”
Leo coughed suspiciously.
Liam glared at him.
Clara adjusted the IV.
Then she left.
Liam watched the door after it closed.
Leo noticed.
“That’s a problem.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
Liam’s eyes hardened.
“She’s an employee.”
“Sure.”
“Find Adrian.”
Leo left before his employer could throw anything.
The following morning, Clara discovered Liam attempting to stand.
Alone.
His injured leg shook violently.
Both hands gripped the walker.
Sweat ran down his temples.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He ignored her.
“Liam.”
“One step.”
“You are not cleared for unsupported transfers.”
“One.”
His arms trembled.
Clara moved closer.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
His right foot touched the floor.
Pain detonated through his body.
His knee buckled.
Clara caught him.
For a man his size, catching him was optimistic.
They crashed against the bed.
Liam landed partly across her.
Clara groaned.
“Congratulations.”
He breathed hard.
“You’ve successfully murdered your nurse.”
He pushed himself away.
“Are you hurt?”
The concern escaped before he could hide it.
Clara blinked.
“My dignity may never recover.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. You weigh approximately the same as a refrigerator.”
Liam almost laughed.
Then pain twisted his face.
Clara helped him settle.
“Why?”
He stared at his useless leg.
“Because I need to walk.”
“You will.”
“When?”
“When your body is ready.”
“My enemies won’t wait.”
Clara became still.
There it was.
The truth beneath everything.
“Is that how you were injured?”
Liam looked at her.
“You were told not to ask questions.”
“I didn’t ask who shot you.”
She pulled the blanket over him.
“I asked why you’re terrified of being unable to walk.”
His eyes turned cold.
“I’m not terrified.”
“Okay.”
She walked away.
“Stop doing that.”
Clara turned.
“Doing what?”
“Agreeing when you clearly don’t.”
“You want me to argue?”
“I want—”
He stopped.
“What?”
Liam looked away.
“I don’t know.”
Clara studied him.
Then pulled the chair closer.
“My father had a stroke when I was fourteen.”
Liam looked back.
“For six months, he needed help bathing. Eating. Walking.”
“Did he recover?”
“Physically.”
Her expression changed.
“He couldn’t tolerate needing us. Started drinking. Became angry at everyone who reminded him he wasn’t the man he used to be.”
“What happened?”
“He left.”
Liam said nothing.
“I spent years thinking weakness made people leave.”
Clara looked directly at him.
“Then Tommy got sick.”
Her voice softened.
“And I learned something.”
“What?”
“Needing help doesn’t make you weak.”
She paused.
“Being too proud to accept it can.”
Liam stared at her.
Nobody had ever spoken to him without wanting something.
Except Clara.
Ironically, she desperately needed money.
Yet she had never asked him for a dollar beyond her salary.
That bothered him.
Later that afternoon, he summoned Leo.
“Tommy Bennett.”
Leo immediately understood.
“You want a background check?”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“Then?”
“Find the clinical trial.”
Leo nodded.
“Pay for it?”
Liam hesitated.
He imagined Clara discovering it.
She would hate being bought.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Find out why insurance rejected it.”
The answer arrived that evening.
The trial itself was partially funded.
The devastating cost came from associated hospital care, travel, medications, and an insurance denial based on a technical classification.
Liam studied the documents.
“Can the denial be appealed?”
“Yes.”
“Then appeal it.”
“In whose name?”
“Not mine.”
Leo smiled faintly.
“Anonymous philanthropist?”
“No. That’ll make her suspicious.”
“Then what?”
Liam thought.
“Find an attorney who specializes in insurance appeals.”
“Send him to Clara?”
“Tell her County General has a patient assistance partnership.”
Leo stared.
“That partnership doesn’t exist.”
“It will tomorrow.”
For the first time in years, Liam Mercer spent several million dollars creating a charitable legal program because one stubborn nurse would refuse a gift.
Two days later, Clara received the call.
She was changing Liam’s dressing when her hands suddenly stopped.
“What?”
He watched her face drain.
Then tears filled her eyes.
“What happened?”
She turned away.
“Tommy’s appeal.”
Liam kept his expression neutral.
“What about it?”
“Approved.”
Her hand flew over her mouth.
“They’re covering the trial.”
She laughed.
Then cried.
Then laughed again.
Liam felt something inside his chest loosen.
Clara grabbed his hand without thinking.
“He gets treatment.”
Liam stared at their joined hands.
“He gets a chance.”
“Yes.”
She squeezed harder.
For several seconds, Liam forgot that touching people was dangerous.
Then Clara realized what she was doing and released him.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Their eyes met.
Something shifted.
Before either could speak, the bedroom doors opened.
Leo entered with a gun drawn.
Clara immediately stood.
“What happened?”
“Security breach.”
Liam’s face transformed.
“Where?”
“North perimeter.”
Leo looked at Clara.
“You need to leave.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
Liam’s voice was different now.
Not cruel.
Afraid.
“Go with Leo.”
She stared.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I said go.”
Gunfire cracked somewhere outside.
Clara flinched.
Leo grabbed her arm.
Then the lights went out.
In the darkness, Liam heard Clara whisper his name.
And suddenly he understood something terrifying.
May you like
He was no longer afraid of dying.
He was afraid they had come for her.
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