Page 90 of The Last One You Loved
My phone buzzed, and I drew my eyes from outside the window and the Tennessee greenery to look down at it with trepidation. Relief flew through me when I saw it was Sally. I’d talked to her the night before while Maddox had been at the station, catching her up. She’d teased me about knowing all along that things between me and Maddox would go this way, and I’d laughed but wondered if she was right—if she’d been able to see the piece of me I’d been missing all along was really him.
SALLY: Good luck with your dad. But remember, he doesn’t have any power over you.
ME: How’d you know I was nervous?
SALLY: Who wouldn’t be? But also, because I’m your friend.
ME: I’m lucky to have you.
SALLY: It goes both ways,chica. Remember how you saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life with Grey?
He’d been an intern who had so much charm that it felt magical, and he’d been sleeping his way through the staff at an almost mind-blowing speed. By the time he’d gotten to Sal, he’d sworn she was different, but I’d smelled snake. Unfortunately, I’d been right, and she’d caught him in one of the empty hospital rooms with a lab tech. I was just glad she’d gotten out before her heart had been completely broken.
ME: You would have discovered the truth on your own.
SALLY: But I didn’t have to. You protected my heart.
ME: Because I love you.
SALLY: Love you a gazillion times more than Angel loved Buffy, and maybe even more than Spike.
My lips twisted upward.
“Everything okay?” Maddox asked, looking down at the buzzing phone, and I realized the only texts he’d ever seen me get were the ones from Dr. Gregory. I hadn’t told him about the good parts of my life in California—the rare, tiny things, like my friend. So, I told him about Sally, everything she’d done for me, and how much I was going to miss her once she was gone.
“You really have nothing there for you,” he said firmly.
“Except my job and my residency,” I said, and I could tell the words worried him.
“How have you been keeping tabs on the hospital investigation?” Maddox asked.
“I have a lawyer through the hospital. That’s only good if they determine my CPS report wasn’t fraudulent,” I said, my stomach twisting. “Why?”
Maddox shared what Amy and Bruce had found out about Roy Gregory and his family. I sat there, stunned, before I finally breathed out, “Layton… He’s okay, then?”
“He’s with his grandmother. That’s all I know.”
Some of the tension knotted in my chest whenever I thought of Davis and my last day at the hospital eased. Layton was safe—for now, at least. And he’d taken it upon himself to get out of the house where he was being abused. It was a good sign.
“What does this mean for Gregory?” I asked.
“I’m sure he’ll negotiate something with the D.A. I doubt he’ll serve time when everything is circumstantial. There’s just the medical reports and the word of a teenage kid who doesn’t like his parents. But if we can prove the threats he’s made to you, we can probably make sure he doesn’t ever practice medicine again and that he’s slapped with a heavy probation sentence.”
We both knew from the reality of my life how the story of proving abuse went. It wasn’t that the police or CPS or even the courts weren’t good at their jobs. It was the fact that the secrets were buried so deep and dark they couldn’t be brought in the light enough for them to be proven, especially when some of the incidents were years old.
“The hospital’s chief medical officer told me Gregory had an affair with the IT lady. That’s how he tampered with my personnel file, so it looked like he’d written me a bad review when, in truth, there was nothing in my records,” I told him.
Maddox’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, and his jaw clenched.
“I’ll pass the information along,” he said.
I nodded.
“What will you do?” he asked. “If they clear you?”
I looked down, fidgeting with a string dangling from the artfully placed rips in my jeans—jeans I’d gotten on clearance, not wanting to spend a lot of money because I mostly spent my life in scrubs. I missed being in the loose-fitting clothes. Missed the action of the ER. The problem-solving. The camaraderie of the team who came together to help the people coming in at their worst moments.
“I’m still trying to figure it out,” I told him the truth. I’d taken the first steps to see about getting licensed in Tennessee, and I’d even filled out a couple of applications for a new residency in the state, but I hadn’t hit submit on anything. If I lost my license in California, there’d be no point in finishing any of it.
