Loathing: Lloyd Hansen

15.

• Agent Thompson. March nineteenth. 12:43 am. Unknown •

"Who was it?" He asked.

I stayed silent. He knew. He gripped the wheel tightly.

"God fucking damnit!" He screamed.

"Lloyd. Shh." I said, barely able to keep my eyes open.

"Are you- you're drugged. Of course."

"Yeah." I said. He rubbed my thigh. I winced.

"Honey I'm hurt everywhere." I said.

"Sorry." He said. "Oh I'm gonna fucking-"

I grabbed his hand. "No. You don't know. What you know is that a group of men did this. Not him." I said.

He quickly turned into a cvs.

"I need medical supplies for you." He said.

"Baby it's almost one am."

"It's a twenty four hour store." He said. He got out and left me. I turned up the heat a little and cuddled into myself.

Lloyd came back with a water, a big bag of medical supplies, and a blanket.

He got in the car and opened up the water, handing it to me. I took a few sips before closing it. He wrapped the blanket over me.

"You need more." He said.

"No."

"Rowan."

"Lloyd don't please." I said.

I didn't wanna cry.

Lloyd sensed my mood and held my hand again.

"We're gonna get you home. And cleaned up. And give you some sleep." He said. I nodded.

• • •

Lloyd sat at the tub, ringing warm water onto my back as I curled up, my legs close to my chest.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm fine."

"They gash your head at all?" He asked.

"Well they knocked me out but that's it."  I said.

"Oh shit. I gotta call Adams and ask for a week off. He can't think that I know." He said. I nodded and rested my head on my knees.

Lloyd talked to him, faked his worry of who did it, and eventually hung up.

"Okay." He said. He sat down and finished cleaning up the dried blood off of my body.

Once he was done he got me dressed and stood in the bathroom with me.

"I cant act right now." He said.

"Yes you can." I whispered. I held his hands. "Please."

He had tears in his eyes. He was choking it down.