Raw Ch. 12

His hands gripped the arms of the chair, his mouth pressed into a straight line. For all the control he claimed to wield, he was having such difficulty not to interrupt me. I wondered if it was because he saw my speech as an act of defiance. That I was overstepping my role as a sub. But I didn't give a shit, and he didn't have to like it any more than I had to like his spiel. He'd have to get over it.

"Of all the things I've learned these past three years since entering the scene, something a bondage demonstrator at the convention this winter said made the biggest impact. Being a Dom isn't about being in control. It's about accepting the gift of control your sub has given you. Handling it with care. Protecting and respecting your sub. Looking out for her best interests. Doing so successfully earns the Dom respect and trust in turn."

I held up my hand as he opened his mouth. He nodded slightly. For a moment, a thought flickered through my brain that he was merely giving me permission to continue speaking. I stamped down the desire to snap at him for trying to command me. It wasn't worth it.

"Before you object that what I'm saying is irrelevant because you're a Master not a Dom, I'm using the term in the collective sense of the partner in the power seat, whether that's a Master, Dom, or Top."

He closed his mouth, but his scowl remained. I could see the anger in his eyes that I was telling him what he should be like as a dominant partner. That he was basically doing it wrong. No one likes to be told they're wrong, especially a dominant man. He needed to hear it, though. Because I could see where it would take him. As much as he'd disappointed me, I didn't want him to end up like the others.

"It also means respecting others in the scene...even if that includes your sister. That's where you went wrong. You failed to respect me. My thoughts. My feelings. You were thinking of no one but yourself. You didn't stop to consider how your actions might affect other people. Or if you did, you intentionally disregarded any reasoning."

He had not looked away from me the entire time I'd given my lecture. It had been vexing, and my fingers ached from gripping the cloth headrest of the chair. I could hear the squeaking of his chair as he rocked gently now, his steepled hands raised, his index fingers rubbing absently at his lips as he apparently pondered what I'd said.

When he remained quiet, I asked, "Do you have any idea why I was so against the ceremony?"

He stopped rocking and lowered his hands to his lap. But he still didn't speak.

"It wasn't a rhetorical question. You can answer. I really want to know."

"Of course I know why. Because you don't believe in it for yourself. Collaring celebrates the very action of giving oneself completely to another. Ultimate surrender. Loss of control. Becoming a slave to her Master. You want to hold onto something still. I don't know why. I think you're missing out on a great deal. If you just give up and let go, you would see."

His words unnerved me. For a moment, I thought Jesse was talking to me. But I blinked and saw my brother still sitting there. Allowing me to remain standing above him. It was backwards and out of place according our status levels in the kinky realm. It had to be killing him.

Words swirled in my head. Angry words. Hateful words. But a little voice broke through the chaos. It told me I couldn't change Drake any more than I could change Jesse. Or Brian.

Tears threatened at the corners of my eyes. I knew what I had to say. What I had to do. I hated it. But there was no other way.

"You're wrong, Drake. So very wrong." I shook my head at my brother. My favorite. My confidant and protector all through my life. His ego and need to be in control at all times deluded him. He thought he had all of the answers. My whole body trembled suddenly, and my voice cracked as I continued. "I was against the ceremony because not six months earlier, I'd been collared and leashed against my will and treated like a dog for a week. Yes, he raped me. But he also degraded me. Treated me as if I were less than human. And when I didn't obey, he tortured me. All this by a man who was a dominant figure in our common world. He thought the ultimate power was to get someone to completely surrender to him, even if it required force."

All of the color drained from Drake's face. I had not revealed to him the entirety of what had happened during my captivity in Brian's secret room last summer. I'd previously just grazed over the important aspects. Only Malcolm, the police, and my two shrinks knew everything. I didn't need to give any specific details now. I could see by the downcast look in his eyes that he finally understood.

"I didn't think it was important to divulge that information. I was getting better. And then you threw that at me. I'd have preferred you'd done your ceremony in private and told me later. I would have come to terms with it eventually and understood on some level."

Drake shook his head, but I'm not sure why. He didn't explain his thoughts, what had caused that reaction. The anger seemed to have left his eyes, though. What remained was a blank expression.

"At the least, you should have given me the chance to explain my opposition. Being forced into the situation as it was, my mind wasn't in the right place to equate that a collar could be something consensual. Desired, even. You took away the option for me to decide, to have an opinion even. To make it worse, you not only didn't tell me, you deliberately plotted how to get me there. You lied to me. Because you knew deep down that I'd say no. The why doesn't matter anymore. The point is you knew you'd have to force me. There was no way, in your mind, that I wouldn't be there to support you. And that, Drake, makes you no better than Brian."

Daphne was whimpering, her arms wrapped around her chest. Her eyes were on Drake's back. Probably waiting for him to scold her for being emotional. I expected him to snap at her at any second, too. To my surprise, he remained stoic to her reaction.

The room was otherwise silent. My entire body ached. I put more of my weight on the chair, but it did little to relieve the strain on my back. I was out of energy. I was out of words. There was nothing left to say, anyway.

I wasn't sure if Daphne was feeling sympathetic toward my plight. Or was she afraid of what my brother might say or do? Now or later. Then there was my big brother who had yet to show any true concern for my welfare, especially with my fiancé in the hospital. He'd just been perturbed that he'd had to fly halfway across the country to find out I wasn't in trouble. And to set the record straight that his way was the best way to live.

I hadn't said anything about being engaged. I'd not sent any correspondence besides the ignored birthday card, and I'd left that tidbit out. But I was wearing the ring...that neither seemed to have noticed. Because I forgot, this trip was all about them.

I jumped upright at a knock on the door. It opened slightly, and Marge poked her head in.

"Ms. Rockland, he's asking for you," she said with a smile.

I stared at her for a moment as my heart leapt. Malcolm was awake! He was speaking!

"Becca, we can wait here," Drake said.

"No." I heard him get up and I turned back around.

His tilted his head toward me. "Do you want me to go with you?"

I shook my head. "I want you to leave. Take your wife back to California. Be good to her. Remember she submits because she loves you, that she respects you. She wants to please you. Don't ever forget that. Don't let the control go to your head."

"Becca, what do you want from me?" His voice was rough. Was he actually starting to break from the macho façade he'd been putting on ever since he'd shown up?

I walked over to my brother and kissed his unshaven cheek lightly. He recoiled as if I'd smacked him. As I stepped back, I put my hand where my lips had been. "An apology would have been nice."

His jaw twitched, and something flashed in his eyes as I stepped away. But he remained silent. Even after all I'd poured out, after serving him the first plank to rebuild this bridge, he still couldn't say it?

I walked around the table and gave Daphne a tight hug. I whispered in her ear, "Promise me you'll get help if you ever feel threatened. I'm always just a call away. Don't forget me."

She nodded against my shoulder, the sound of her sobs preventing whatever she mumbled from making sense to me.

I gave them both a sad smile. "Goodbye, Drake. Goodbye, Daphne. I love you both. I wish you the best."

As I walked through the conference room door, I felt a wave of peace flow over me. My heartbeat sped up the further I walked down the hall. I had to mend a bridge that was way more important.

###

"Becca! Becca!"

I heard Malcolm's hoarse voice before I'd barely pushed the door open. I could feel his eyes on me as I entered. My heart leapt with joy.

He was propped up in bed, and the light had been turned to a brighter setting. His left hand—free of tubes and wires—reached out for me. His fingers rapidly clenched and released, as if that would bring me to him faster.

I rushed to his right side where I'd previously been sleeping, letting out a soft cry as I gripped his waiting hand in mine. Our eyes met, and I couldn't stop the tears that choked the breath out of me. I pulled his hand up to hold it against my wet cheek and closed my eyes, pressing more tears out.

"Shh, sweetie, it's okay." He struggled but eventually succeeded in pulling his hand from my grasp. His fingers wiped at my tears and gently swept my hair from my forehead. It was futile since I was leaning over him and my hair kept falling over my eyes. But he didn't seem to mind.

"It's not okay! I did this!" I hiccupped, moving my hand to mirror his actions but on his face.

"No, don't say that." His gaze darted all over, his fingers lightly touching my mouth and jawline. They skated a path down my neck and then back up again to my ears. Moved along my temple, letting the strands of my unkempt hair tangle with his fingers. I closed my eyes as his thumb brushed over my eyebrows and then my eyelids. Traced the bridge of my nose. It was as if he was trying to remember me.

"If we hadn't fought...if I'd told you sooner..." I said between sobs.

"I forgive you." It was the softest whisper, yet it rang loudly in my head. He waited until I was looking into his eyes again before he said, "I love you."

"I don't care what happened with Juliet. Whatever it was, I forgive you, too. I love you so much! Too much to fight about something so trivial. I was such a fool." I choked back another cry just before he slid his hand up my jaw and behind my head, pulling me to him.

Our lips met with a mutual gasp. He pressed harder, to which I moaned my consent. I felt his tongue playing over my lips, testing for resistance. I opened to him, and he groaned as he entered, sweeping over my teeth and tongue.

His hand fisted and unfisted in my hair, holding my head to his. I leaned forward more, feeling the lowered bedrail digging into my belly. I didn't care.

Suddenly, he cried out and pushed me away, halting our hospital makeout session.

I stood up and glanced around. Had Marge entered the room? Then I looked to the ceiling, wondering if they had security cameras in the rooms up here.

"My chest," Malcolm said with a groan.

"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" I lightly ran my hands over his hospital gown, as if that would help.

His grimace slowly faded and he smiled up at me. "It was worth it for that kiss!"

I swatted him lightly on his good leg. "Cad."

He arched an eyebrow. "Absolutely. Any day for you."

I pulled my chair up and sat down with a sigh. He slid his right hand toward me, curling his fingers into my waiting palm. I lowered my gaze to the IV tube snaking out the back of his hand and along the sheet. "Seriously, though, I am so sorry this happened."

"Becca—"

"No, please, let me finish."

He flashed me a tired smile. "I was just going to ask if you can reach the button for the morphine pump. It fell down the side of the bed."

I wanted to laugh. Then I saw that his grin seemed strained. He was hiding the pain, but just barely. "Is it your ribs? Did I—"

"A little. But mostly, it's my leg. Please, find the button."

I hurried around to the other side of the bed. A cord hung looped around a rung of the raised bedrail. A device that looked like the insert for a car cigarette lighter but with a flat top swung from the end. I pressed the button and then pulled it back up to where he could reach it, securing the attached clip to the sheet beside the call button for the nurse.

"Thank you." He closed his eyes, his mouth a grimace now. "Give me a couple of minutes."

I glanced between him and my watch, noting the time and counting down. After five minutes, his jaw finally relaxed. I used the time to think about our time together. Where we'd started. How we'd come so far.

I started to rub my thumb across the back of his fingers but stopped when I realized that might relax him too much. "Don't fall asleep on me again. Not until we've talked. Please."

He winced before he opened his eyes. I took his nod as a cue he was okay if I proceeded.

"I'm not going to rehash our fight. It's over and done with. We've both been through enough. I just want to apologize for not telling you sooner about Jesse. I'm sorry I didn't come to you that night."

"And I should have pressed harder about why you were so upset when you got to the club. I thought it was over-stimulation from the show." His words started out slow and low, and he paused in the middle to take a deep breath. By the last word, his voice sounded normal again. "But then we had that other issue...there just wasn't time."

I put both of my hands around his right hand, minding the IV line. "Speaking of other issues, they were here tonight. But they're gone now."

Malcolm turned his head toward me. "Jesse and Juliet?"

I cringed. "Uh, well, yes, them, too. I was speaking about my brother."

"I want to hear all about that. The other ones, too." He closed his eyes for a moment and licked his lips. "But first, can you give me—"

"Another kiss?" I grinned.

He laughed. Then he groaned as he pressed his left hand to his chest. "I was going to say a drink of water, but a kiss would be nice as well."

I noticed the pink pitcher on the table beside the bed and went to pour it into the matching plastic glass beside it, but nothing came out. I lifted the lid and realized it was full of ice chips. Marge must have brought them just before I came back in the room because they were still frozen.

I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. Then I loaded the cup up with chips and held the spoon to his lips, feeding him while I relayed the events of both surprise visits. He nodded a lot. And scowled. He laughed at how I threw Jesse and Juliet out, which earned him a reprimand from me as he groaned in pain. He even got a little choked up when I explained how my brother controlled Daphne so much.

When I was finished, and the cup of ice chips was empty, he reached across to me with his left hand and gestured I come closer. Without a word, he gently pulled my head his chest and placed a kiss on my head. I guess it was his attempt at a hug.

We were both silent for a while, and I thought he'd drifted off based on the slowing of his heartbeat beneath my ear. I had closed my eyes as well. He startled me when he spoke.

"I know you said you didn't care, but I insist you—"

"Malcolm..." I said as I started to sit up. He let me lift my head so that our eyes met, but he kept his free hand buried in my locks, restricting me from rising up fully.

"Please, hear me out. And we'll never speak of it again."

I bit my lower lip and nodded.

"The other night. Last night. This morning. Whenever it was I took you to Jesse's house. You were sleeping. The three of us were up talking. They brought out some wine. And one bottle turned into two and then three. There might have been more after that. I don't remember. We'd gone down to the dungeon after the first bottle of wine. I hadn't seen it since he'd remodeled four years ago. We were in the aftercare room, laughing about something stupid. I don't even remember what it was." He stopped to lick his lips.

I pointed to the pitcher but he shook his head. He closed his eyes before continuing.

"I passed out at least once, probably a couple of more times. My brain is sketchy. I have visions of Juliet's face floating before mine. Her voice calling my name, mumbling questions. Laughing. She was kneeling in front of me at one point. I think I was still sitting on the couch. I could feel her touching me all over with her hands. I don't think I was wearing any pants. She smiled up at me before I felt her take me in her mouth. I couldn't push her away. She'd bound my hands. I couldn't move at all."

I shivered and squeezed his hand. "Where was Jesse?"

Malcolm's eyes opened, his frown deepening. "I have no idea, but I can take a wild guess."

I nodded, feeling a little nauseous.

"She said I told her to tie me up. To blow me. I'm ashamed to say I came. The next thing I remember, I woke up on the couch in the aftercare room with all of my clothes on. Alone. Not to mention, my head was killing me. When I approached her while she made breakfast, she said I must have been dreaming. I'd had a lot to drink. The last she saw me, I had passed out on the couch. She tried to wake me so I would go upstairs to be with you. But they couldn't rouse me, so they went to bed. She said she would never do anything without Jesse's permission now. And I couldn't believe my friend would have allowed that. So I convinced myself they were right, it had all been a drunken dream. Then they suggested we work on the suspension rig. Which is when you came in."

"Do you think they drugged you?"

"I don't want to believe it. But it's the only explanation. There is no way I'd actually have agreed to let her do that. The more I've thought about it, I knew I hadn't imagined it. They'd drunk just as much wine as I did." He turned his head to the far wall, his sigh shaky. "God, I can't believe I fell for her lie."

I squeezed his left hand, and eventually he turned back to me. "I said it already, and I'll keep saying it until you believe me. I forgive you. It's more important that you're alive."

"Thank you, Becca," he said, his voice catching. "That means so much to me. I felt so ashamed. I thought you'd found out somehow, that's why you were so mad when we left their house. But then I couldn't figure out how you knew. Which made it even more confusing. It killed me to think I could have betrayed you like that. We were both hurting—"

"Shh." I pressed my fingers to his lips. I felt the tears welling up again. My head was getting heavy holding it up as I was, so I laid it down on his shoulder. His head rolled to rest against mine, his left hand caressing my cheek and smoothing back my hair. I shuddered. "I wish this day was over."

"You and me both, sweetie." Malcolm sighed, kissing my hair. "You and me both."

###

We decided to stay in the city while he recovered. I made a trip back to the house in Wheaton to clean out the fridge and get enough clothes to last us for the next two months as well as my notes and laptop. I'd left the latter behind since we were supposed to be relaxing and had only come to the city for the weekend. This had turned into the worst planned vacation I'd ever experienced. But we quickly settled in for what I realized was a foreshadowing for our marriage. For better or worse, in sickness and in health, right?

He suggested staying in the guestroom, afraid that I'd be too much of a temptation in bed beside him and cause a setback to his healing progress. As much as it pained me, I agreed that he was right, so I made him as comfortable as possible. For once, he'd voiced his appreciation for my pillow fetish...and the fact that I had left it behind at the condo when I'd moved in with him. He looked like a child in a pillow fort.