Billy leaned forward and pressed his fingers into Jon’s shoulder. “What’s up? Change of plans, Jonny?”
Jon released a hard breath. “If anyone in here has a moral objection to killing a deputy, and possibly a sheriff, you have thirty seconds to get the hell out of my truck.”
Chapter twenty-one
Lance
Lance always felt grumpierwhen he had to deal with a nurse who wasn’t Lynn. And for the first time in his life, an objectively attractive female, surely old enough to drink, had smiled at him with a spark of desire in her eyes and he’d felt only irritation. Hers weren’t the hands he wanted to be feeling on his skin. But he’d kept that to himself, because on the up-side, they were finally making progress toward setting him free.
He fucking hated hospitals. Although he did hate this one slightly less, he supposed.
“Someone will be back with your paperwork in a few minutes,” the flirtatious nurse said as she bent into the low corner cupboard where a previous nurse had shoved his sea bag. Jon had taken the other bag to hold for him, at least, because the backseat of a truck was still better than a cramped cupboard.
Lance rubbed absently at the arm that had been strapped up to an IV for the past several days as the nurse prattled on about prescription orders and waiting for a goddamn wheelchair. They wanted to wheel him out like he was a fucking invalid.Why make me walk laps down the hallway if you’re gonna treat me like that, huh?
The nurse set a small plastic tub onto the side table where he’d been leaving his phone. “And here are the things you had on you when you came in,” she said, flashing him another smile. “It’ll be a few minutes before the papers are ready, so take your time.”
“Right, thanks,” he said.
She was polite enough to roll the blinds into a closed position before finally ducking from the room and closing the door behind her.
Lance blew out a breath and looked over at his assortment of gear. His bag was furthest away, and he had a half a memory of her commenting on how heavy it was. His boots were on the floor up against the base of the side table. The shirt he’d had on when his leg had been shredded was folded in the plastic tub, and after hauling the tub into his lap, Lance saw that his belt, wallet, wristwatch, rolled up socks, and ID tags were all accounted for. He also found a clean pair of cargo pants so new they still had the tag and stickers on them, and he assumed Jon must have picked them up for him. Sneaky bastard.
He thumbed open the wallet first. He hadn’tseenanyone snooping, of course, but he hadn’t been conscious for everymoment. Or in the room for every moment. A cursory glance didn’t reveal anything missing, though, so he set it down and scooped up his tags. Those went back around his neck, then he snapped on the watch, before setting the tub aside so he could actually get up and work on bigger things.
He barely had the tub balanced back on the table when his door swung open without even a polite tap.
Leeland County Sheriff Morty Parker stepped into the doorway, shoulders back, chin raised, and lowered both hands to his fully loaded belt just over his hips. “You and I need to have another conversation, son.”
Lance let himself drop back against the bed, glad it at least remained in an upright position. He didn’t feel like flashing the ugly bastard his ass, let alone showing weakness, by allowing the man to watch him wobble into his new pants. Leaning back against the bed also helped him to remember that he had no weapons on him. Apparently, the hospital had insisted Jon take those, too.
He couldn’t help but notice they hadn’t insisted Sheriff Morty leavehisfirearm elsewhere.
Fucking hospitals.Lance schooled his face into a neutral mask. “Cuttin’ it close, Sheriff. You almost caught me with my dick out.”
Morty’s lips thinned. He didn’t seem to have a sense of humor. “If you need to take a leak, I can wait.”
Lance let one side of his mouth kick up. “Nah, they’re letting me go.” He motioned to the plainly visible personal effects, then let his arm fall back to his lap. “So, what’d you need to talk to me about? You catch the asshole who tore my leg up?” He knew the answer, of course, but those particular bodies weren’t likely to pop back up. And Jon was smart enough not to advertise to his adversaries in the local department that he was dropping bodies of any sort, criminal though they were. So, Lance played dumb.
Morty exhaled, the sound coming out like an exasperated huff, and he took a step forward. He reached behind him, and for a split-second, Lance thought the man was reaching to shut the door. But he wasn’t.
A crackle in the air answered that seconds before Lance got eyes on the source.
The good old sheriff had drawn a stun gun, and was extending it outward in an unmistakably threatening manner. “Your friend is making too much trouble for me,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I know that boy. He’s got no respect for his elders. So, if he won’t listen tome, then maybe he’ll take a hint.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me.Morty wanted to off him as a message? That was fucking insulting.
Lance lifted his arms at the elbows, palms up and open, in a slow movement. “That seems a bit drastic,Sheriff. Jon’s the most respectful guy I know.” Okay, that was a stretch, but he wasn’t lacking, either. “I’m sure we can talk this out like mature adults.” He was actually positive they could not, but on the off-chance Morty came to any kind of sense and at least put away his weapon, Lance figured the words were worth the effort.
That, and they bought him some time. Crazy Ella had said his powers would climb back up to full strength gradually, and he didn’t think he was quite there yet. But he was damn sure well enough to handle a sheriff past his prime and a lousy stun gun.
“Mouth off while you can,” Morty replied. “Damn shame your death’ll probably get this whole hospital shut down.” He shrugged and reached out with his free hand, snagging the towering metal IV stand at the side of Lance’s bed. “Guess they should’ve been more careful.”
Morty shoved the IV tower over, toppling it on top of Lance. He seemed to believe the tactic would trap Lance as much as it would act like a conductor. A theory Lance concluded to be accurate when Morty followed that move up by thrusting hisstun gun forward, aimed to strike the metal bar suddenly resting directly over Lance’s chest.
It had to be in the Top Five worst, sloppiest,stupideststrategies Lance could remember being a part of.
Lance pulled an arm out from under the not-so-confining metal pole and caught the sheriff’s descending attack straight on, letting the small prongs at the edges of the taser press into his palm as the weapon flared. He closed his fingers tightly around it, holding an ironically stunned Morty in place, and let his head fall back as the artificial electricity coursed through him. There was a faint sizzle from his hand, but the model he had was designed with clumsy users in mind, so there would be no lasting burn even if he weren’t him.
