My Paralyzed Patient’s Brother Tried To Assassinate Him — So I Set A Deadly Trap

Part 2

Midnight cast long, jagged shadows across the Persian rug as I held the amber prescription bottles under the harsh beam of my penlight.

I cross-referenced the labels with the private medical database on my tablet, my heart hammering a frantic, terrifying rhythm against my ribs.

The label on the baclofen, a potent muscle relaxant, indicated a dosage of eighty milligrams to be administered every four hours.

That was absurd, enough to suppress Dan’s respiratory drive entirely.

Furthermore, the blood thinner had its dosage tripled.

If I blindly followed these instructions, Dan would slip into a coma and suffer a massive internal hemorrhage within forty-eight hours.

To an outside observer, it would just seem like an unfortunate side effect of his devastating paralysis.

I carefully placed the bottles back on the nightstand, my hands trembling from a profound, boiling outrage.

I looked toward the center of the massive bedroom.

Dan was awake, watching me from his bed with sharp, discerning eyes that missed absolutely nothing in his environment.

You have been staring at those bottles for ten minutes, Dan stated, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

Is there a problem with my medication?

I walked over to the edge of his bed, the heavy, solid thud of my footsteps grounding me.

I wasn’t dealing with a fragile patient.

I was dealing with a predator who needed to know a trap had been set.

Your brother altered the prescriptions, I said bluntly, handing him the tablet with the highlighted standard dosage charts.

If I give you these pills at this frequency, your lungs will stop functioning by tomorrow evening.

Dan did not gasp, nor did he yell.

The temperature in the room simply seemed to drop ten degrees.

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking violently beneath his stubble.

And yet, Dan murmured softly, you are telling me this instead of packing your bags and running out the front door?

I’m a nurse, I replied fiercely, my broad shoulders squaring.

I took an oath to do no harm, and I certainly don’t let perfectly healthy men get medically assassinated on my watch.

I am replacing these with your actual dosage from the reserve supply I brought from the pharmacy.

However, your brother will be waiting to see your condition worsen.

What is our move?

Dan’s eyes softened, a stark contrast to the lethal calculation computing in his mind.

He reached out, his large calloused hands gripping my thick waist.

With a surprising amount of upper body strength, he pulled me down until I was sitting on the edge of the mattress beside him.

Craig controls the perimeter guards, Dan explained, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper.

He controls the house staff, but he does not control Brian, my underboss.

If he believes his plan is succeeding, he won’t be able to stay away when the end approaches.

We need to let him think he is winning.

I nodded, my professional mask slipping slightly as Dan’s thumb traced the curve of my hip.

I will manage the symptoms.

I can use cosmetic drops to dilate your pupils, and I will lower the room temperature to make your skin clammy.

Dan pulled me down, his mouth crashing into mine.

It was not a tentative kiss, but a claiming, filled with desperate gratitude and blistering heat.

When this is over, you are never leaving this house, he breathed against my lips.

Friday night arrived with a suffocating tension, and inside the master suite, the stage was meticulously set.

Dan lay motionless in the center of the massive bed, his skin pale and covered in a cold sweat.

I sat in a leather armchair in the corner, my hands wrapped tightly around the cold, heavy steel of a medical oxygen tank wrench.

At exactly eleven o’clock, the heavy oak doors swung open.

Craig walked in, accompanied by two massive men wearing fake paramedic uniforms.

He stepped closer to the bed, looking down at his brother’s seemingly lifeless form.

Draw the syringe, Craig ordered, a cruel, triumphant smile breaking across his face.

Would my makeshift weapon and our desperate trap be enough to stop an assassination before midnight?