“You think ‘cause I’ve been honorably discharged that my title lost its weight?” Lance challenged. “How about you call the nearest USMC office and ask? Ask for the proper way to address a motherfucker who gave seventeen goddamn years of his life for this country and wore his insignia with pride. And while you’re at it, ask what happens when you repeatedly look that same man in the eye and call himboy.”
Morty’s nostrils flared. “You threatening me?”
Lance smiled. “No, Sheriff. When I threaten you, you won’t question it. What I’m doing is offering you an education on respect. Just because I’m in this hospital bed right now does not mean my rank means any less than it did twenty-four hours ago.We don’t lose our ranks when we’re discharged. If I died today, my rank would be carved into my fucking tombstone. So yeah, it’s a mouthful. It’s a mouthful I bled for and I won’t apologize for that.”
Morty didn’t look like he appreciated Lance’s abridged lesson.
He’d probably appreciate the long version a lot less.But the hospital might frown on that, too, and he wasn’t looking to make those kinds of waves.
Morty leaned forward and latched onto the frame at the foot of Lance’s bed. It was hard to tell if he thought the pose was intimidating, or if the man just couldn’t stand upright for more than a couple of minutes under his own power. The glare in his eyes didn’t waver, though.
That was probably the highest compliment Lance could currently pay him.
“Listen, Blackburn,” Morty said, blatantly disregarding everything Lance had said, “it’s come to my attention that you and a friend of yours opened fire in my county yesterday. On a scene where two people ended up dead.”
Lance blinked. Waited.
Morty left the words hanging.
Lance scoffed hard. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“I don’t take manslaughter of any kind as a joke.”
“Well, you should talk to your deputies about that,” Lance returned. “But I’m guessing one of them’s your boy, right? The charming prick who wasted valuable time bullying thevictimand then proceeded to hide his fat ass behind his cruiser when the shooters pulled up?”
“You’d best watch your mouth, boy,” Morty snarled.
Lance let his own irritation show on his face and simultaneously fed a spark to the machines tracking his vitals. He’d keep the spike gradual enough to seem believable, but he was well and truly done with Sheriff Asshole. “You don’t comeinto my recovery room, disrespect me, even remotely imply that I had jack shit to do with those deaths, accuse me of being in the wrong for defending civilian life with a fuckinghandgun, and growl at me when I tell you the truth. I am not the one who’s gonna roll over and take the blame for your people’s fuck ups. You know goddamn well I didn’t kill those punks, or anyone else yesterday.” He drew a breath and let the readings spike higher.
Morty’s eyes slid to the machines for a single moment.
“Matter of fact, if anything, it’syourdepartment’s fault I’m in this fucking hospital right now,” Lance said. “So go ahead. Piss me off, Morty. Disrespect me again. Accuse me of shit we both know I didn’t do. You’ll shit your pants with the lawsuit Iwillbring down on your ass.” He sucked in a dramatic breath to accommodate the increasingly loud machinery. “That what you want? The evening news to splash your mug across TV with the headline ‘small-time sheriff picks a fight with decorated Marine’?”
Morty shoved upright and took a step to stride around the bed, on the side with Lance’s wounded leg. “Quit running your mouth, you washed-up dog,” he spat. “You’re nothing but a—”
The door flew open again, Lynnette and two other nurses rushing into the room.
“We’re not done here!” Morty snapped at them.
Lance let his head drop back against the pillow.
“The hell you aren’t,” Lynnette replied sharply as someone else silenced the machines. “You’re upsetting our patient. It’s time for you to go, Sheriff.”
Morty bristled, and for a long second, Lance thought he might do something stupid. Instead, he straightened himself and cut a look back to Lance. “We’ll continue this another time.”
Lance let his eyes close, knowing there were multiple pairs of ears attuned to their exchange. “Not unless you wanna meet that lawyer, Morty.”
Lynnette ground her teeth as she tried to tune out Claire’s attempts at flirting with their patient. Claire was the only other nurse still in the room since the sheriff had departed and the worst of the crisis seemed to have passed, and her remaining would have been fine—if she were working.
Hell, even if she were observing.
Lance seemed to have restabilized himself pretty quickly after Sheriff Parker finally took his charming self out of the room. He’d closed his eyes and done some deep breathing and calmed as fast as any practiced meditation allowed. It really was amazing the effects stress had on the body. Especially the already wounded body.
Lynnette was just about done when she heard something too odd, and too wrong, to ignore.
“Do you mind?” Lance asked, a tone of awkward discomfort in his voice. “My arm’s going numb from the way you’re sitting on me.”
Claire giggled and said something likeoops.
