Page 12 of The Last One You Loved
“I was sort of passing out. Dr. Lloyd just helped me lie down,” he said so quietly it could hardly be heard.
“You have a problem with her helping your son if he passed out?” Dr. Gomez sent the question toward Dr. Gregory with narrowed eyes.
“I have a problem with her not sending for me before she ordered X-rays and issued prescriptions, yes. And the board will agree with me.”
“I’m filing a report,” I finally found my voice. I sent a reassuring gaze toward Layton because I hadn’t been able to get to this point in our conversation when we’d been interrupted. “I’m calling Child Protective Services.”
Technically, as a mandated reporter, I didn’t have any obligation to tell the parent. It was actually better if I remained anonymous, but no way was that happening now, and I didn’t want this asshole to think he’d gotten away with what he’d done once again.
Dr. Gregory’s face turned purple, and he stepped toward me but couldn’t reach me with Dr. Gomez between us. “You little piece of shit. How dare you!”
“How dare I? How dare you?!” I tossed back, moving forward so that poor Dr. Gomez was sandwiched between two angry individuals.
“If you both don’t step off, I’ll call security,” she growled.
I took a shaky breath before easing backward. Dr. Gomez met my gaze. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
Dr. Gregory went deadly still, carefully tucking his anger and hate behind an impassive wall until it was only his eyes that were still shooting daggers at me and Layton.
“You do that, and your career is over. Your name will be on every banned list from the East Coast to the West,” he said. The deadly calm was way more terrifying than his anger.
“Do no harm. I guess the oath you swore doesn’t apply to your family,” I tossed back, shivering as my memories assaulted me. The helplessness. The fear.
His hands clenched, and I knew with a certainty built from years of ducking my mama’s hands that he wanted to hit me. He wanted to take his fury out on my flesh just like he’d taken it out on his son’s.
He looked down at Dr. Gomez with barely veiled contempt. “Selena, this is retaliation. McKenna got her hand slapped for misreading an intake and putting a patient and their family through unnecessary tests. The mark will be on her record, so she’s striking back.”
I paled. That mistake hadn’t been mine. It had been his. We’d argued about it just like we’d argued about a suspected abuse report I’d filed. He hadn’t liked my disagreeing with him even less than he’d liked my rejection of his advances.
“Everybody out! Everybody except Layton,” Dr. Gomez said as if she was suddenly tired of all the accusations. “Dr. Lloyd, go home. I’ll contact you later. Roy, call your wife to come and pick up Layton, and Sally, don’t you have a job to do?”
Nobody moved.
“Now!” she commanded.
Dr. Gregory’s jaw ticked, and his teeth ground together.
“I’ll leave when he does,” I said quietly.
“You little bi?”
Sally pulled on my arm. “She’s leaving. I’ll clock out, Dr. Gomez. It’s slow in the ER at the moment, and I was only an hour from the end of my shift anyhow.”
I tried to pull away, but Sally’s grasp was fierce, and I would’ve hurt one or both of us if I fought it. I turned my head to look back at Layton, and his face was crumpled in a resigned look I recognized. It was the realization that you were walking back into the viper’s den where no one was going to save you.
My determination grew. Roy Gregory was not going to get away with this—not any longer than he already had.
Once we were out the door, Sally didn’t let go. Instead, she hauled me down the hallway toward the doctors’ lounge. My heart was filled with pain for Layton. For me. The farther we got from the hospital room, the looser her grip got until I could finally drag my arm away. My pace increased until I was almost jogging, determined to get my stuff and place the call I knew needed to be made.
Sally barely kept up, her bright-pink hair spinning about her face. “McK, what the hell just happened?”
“I have to call CPS, now, Sal. I don’t have time to give you the lowdown.”
I grabbed my backpack, stuffed my stethoscope and jacket inside it, and was literally running down the hall to the exit as my finger found the number I’d saved in my phone. The wait time was ten minutes when it finally connected, and I groaned.
Outside, the heat hit me. It was November, but the Northern California sunshine didn’t seem to know it. If I’d been in Tennessee, the leaves would have changed color by now, and it would be brisk if not downright cold. Some days, I missed the weather almost as much as I missed the man I’d left behind when he’d been nothing more than a boy.
