The world tilted sideways as Lynnette attempted to follow Amy’s whispered words.
Lance knew.
She didn’t know why that felt like such a violation. It had bothered her immensely when the hospital had forced her to sign an NDA as part of the agreement. She’d always felt that, as the victim, she had the right to tell whoever she damn well pleased what had happened to her. But all they cared about was covering their asses, and ultimately, she really was concerned about her father’s response if he ever learned the truth. So, she’d buried it. Told no one. Convinced herself it was best that way.
Now Lance knows.
The video hadn’t been explicit, hadn’t rehashed her history with Bishop, but it was enough of a lead for anyone with life experience. He knew she was a victim of assault, and that she continued to expose herself to the risk of it for some reason.
How was she supposed to face him again?
But Amy wasn’t done talking, so Lynnette couldn’t spiral yet. There was more to hear.
“He deleted it, the video, the email trail, everything. Wiped it away like it never happened. But not before he sent a copy somewhere, to a friend he swore he trusts, for safe keeping. So,you can get it anytime.” Amy licked her lips again. “And he … I think he asked the same friend to do some kind of background search on Doctor Bishop, if I understood right. I’m pretty sure his friend is also military.”
Lynnette clenched both hands around the stupid clipboard in order to keep herself from reaching for the wall. Finally, she gasped, “Why would you take it to Lance, or any patient?”
Amy blinked as if the question surprised her. “Well, I … had the impression you were close.” Her cheeks flushed red and somehow her voice got quieter. “When he called his friend, he referred to you as his girl.”
He did what?Lynnette had to bite her tongue to keep from shouting. Outrage at the audacity blended with a strange flip in her chest that felt more like excitement. It was too much. She didn’t even know how to feel about that idea. Why in the hell would he say something like that.Maybe just to justify what he was asking for?It was the only semi-rational explanation.
She was going to have to ask him.
Which meant not only standing in his presence looking, apparently, like a cage-fighter, but also knowing he knew her shameful secret. And addressing it.
“I’m really sorry,” Amy repeated quickly. “I thought it was better if Doctor Bishop couldn’t get his hands on the video.”
Lynnette forced out a breath. The video. The video still existed, and if Amy was right, she could get it back. Even better, the hospital wouldn’t be able to get their hands on it until the lawsuit she dreamed of filing went to trial and parties were required to share evidence. If that was a thing. That realization helped settle her a tiny bit. She managed a smile for Amy. “You were probably right,” she whispered back. “I think the pain is making Mr. Blackburn a little delusional, but I appreciate you looking out for me, Amy. Thank you. Could I ask you to please not mention this to anyone?”
Relief spread across Amy’s face like sunlight cutting through a fading storm. “Definitely. My lips are sealed. I’m on your side, girl.”
Lynnette’s smile became easier. Amy, at least, was good people. She reached out and patted the blonde on the shoulder. “I’ll go talk to Lance. You should get back to your station. We’ll chat later, okay?” The day was going so crazy already, that promise felt a little too optimistic, but she said the words anyway.
Amy nodded and took a step back. “Good luck,” she mouthed, before turning to fast-walk back to her desk.
Lynnette didn’t move for a solid five seconds. She couldn’t help but feel like she was going to need that luck.
It’d only been a few minutes since the grumpy male nurse had taken his breakfast away before Lynnette finally breezed into Lance’s room. His lungs filled with oxygen as if he’d been holding his breath while she was away and a smile split his lips immediately. “Good morning, Lynn,” he said, trying to land somewhere between warm and not too much.
A thought that went straight out the window when she rested a hand covered in bandages on the rail at the foot of his bed. Her other arm was curled around an old-fashioned clipboard, which he’d never seen her carrying before, but he spied more bandages on that hand, too. He pushed himself to a full sitting position. “Jon said you were hurt. How bad is it?” He dropped his gaze purposefully to her most visible hand. “Should you be working today?”
Lynnette scoffed, flexed her fingers over the bar, and let her hand drop. “It’s just some split knuckles. I over-bandaged them to make sure they stay covered, because I work in a hospital and I don’t want them getting infected.” She paused, her stance softening marginally. “Thank you for asking. You’re actually the only one who has.”
His eyes widened. “How did you walk through a hospital and not get one single question about your well-being when you’re obviously banged up? I’ve known you for a week and I know that’s not normal.”
Her lips quirked. “Less than, and that actually leads me tomyquestions.” She fixed a stare on him. “Why am I hearing you referred to me as yours? In front of one of my colleagues, no less? Do you not understand I could lose my job and even my license for that kind of behavior?”
Lance bit back his grin. He’d wondered if she’d hear about that, and how she might react. “To be clear, I never said anything has happened between us. I only spoke in possessive language. So, you could easily argue to anyone that it’s a one-sided thing, if you needed.” Not that he wanted her to. “I wouldn’t have said that much in front of your colleague, except that particular one was already risking her job for you, so I figured she was okay. And I cared more about making sure Dietz understood the reason I needed the favor I was asking for.”
Lynnette blinked. “Deets…?” She repeated it slowly, obviously confused.
“His name is Dietz, spelled like the word ‘diet’ with a z on the end, but pronounced like the slang for ‘details’,” Lance explained. “He works intelligence in the Corps. We’ve been buddies for about a decade. I have him holding onto your video for safe-keeping, he can get it back to you anytime you’re ready for it, and by now he’s probably got a nice thick dossier on Bishop.”
Lynnette stared at him for a long moment, then raised a hand to press the knuckles of her clipboard-carrying hand to her forehead and let out an exasperated sigh. “Lance,” she said, “you do understand you’re my patient, don’t you?”
Lance let a small grin curl his lips. “Today.”
She blanked her expression and rested the back of her hand on her hip. “And yesterday, and tomorrow.”
