Read Lyon on a Leash Online

Authors: Erosa Knowles

Tags: #Interracial Romance, #bdsm, #mistresssubmissive, #ds, #female led relationships

Lyon on a Leash (26 page)

BOOK: Lyon on a Leash
5.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“She’ll be in recovery for a while longer; the nurse will come get you when she arrives here in ICU.”

“Thanks,” Marcus said, extending his hand. The doctor took it and pumped it once. So many things flew through his mind as he went over what the doctor had told him. Vera would recover. It’d take time, but she’d be okay. He had to believe that. Next, he thought of the accident, her car, her purse with her identification. She’d want him to find those right away. As he exited the door, his cell rang. A harsh “Shh” had him retracing his steps into the small waiting room. It was Amy.

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard from the doctors yet?” Her voice sounded frantic.

He sympathized with her. Not knowing had been a pain in the ass. “Yeah, the doctor just left.” She repeated what he said to someone and there were other voices, and questions in the background. “Where are you? Who’s with you?”

“I’m in the emergency waiting room with Gerard, Pam, Carol, and other people from the office. We’ve been out here a while but no one will tell us what’s going on with Vera. What’d the doctor tell you?”

He heard someone else asking another question and made a decision. “I’ll find you guys and tell you what I know at one time. Right now, she’s in recovery. She’ll be in ICU in an hour. Hang tight, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

He clicked off as he walked to the desk and gave them his cell phone number to call him if Vera made it to ICU before he came back. The nurse promised to contact him. After receiving directions, he went in search of Amy and the people from Vera’s job. He called Marguerite and gave her a brief update. Still pissed at her attitude from before, he cut the conversation short. After a series of twists and turns, he located the emergency waiting room and the anxious faces of Vera’s colleagues.

Amy saw him first and met him halfway. The others, including Brinks, caught up with them. He corralled them to a corner and told them what the doctor had told him.

“Amy, I need a favor,” Marcus said.

“Name it.”

“I need you to go to the car impound and pick up Vera’s purse with her ID and wallet. See if they’ll release all her personal effects.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. “Will they give them to me?” She looked up at him, uncertain.

“Just tell them you’re her assistant and she has paperwork you need for the firm. I’m sure there’s something in her briefcase that’ll connect her to the firm. You have something to connect you?”

She nodded. “That’ll work and it’s true. I’ll check to see what cases she was working on and get those files for you, Gerard, so you can reassign them.” She glanced at her boss and then shrugged. She grabbed one of the women by the arm and they headed toward the exit. That was one thing he could cross off his list.

Brinks nodded after Amy walked off, although it was apparent his mind was elsewhere.

Eager to return and wait for Vera, Marcus headed back to the ICU.

“Marcus?” Brinks called out, stopping him.

Closing his eyes, Marcus groaned. He hoped Brinks didn’t intend to play one-upmanship games with him right now. On the other hand, it’d be nice to get rid of the pent-up frustration that had plagued him since discovering the accident. He shook off that thought. If they acted stupid, he’d be banned from the hospital, leaving Marguerite in charge.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak without tearing into the man, so he waited.

“Her…her leg’s broken? And her neck?” Brinks asked, sounding confused.

“Just her arm and leg. They don’t know about her back or head yet.” Turning, he watched as the color drained from the man’s face. A sliver of empathy ran through Marcus.

“My God…did you say…two cars hit her?” The disbelief in his voice drew Marcus’ attention.

Marcus stared at the man. “Yeah, one on the side, the other from behind,” he said with a thoughtful expression. The man’s concern appeared genuine yet there was no denying something bothered him. “Something you wanna tell me?”

Brinks head snapped up when he heard Marcus’ question. Wide-eyed, he shook his head and pulled his jacket tight around him, as though it were a shield. “No…just that I’m sorry this happened. Worse it happened after work.” He shook his head and looked toward the exit.

Marcus intended to have Marguerite use her connections to make sure his lady’s accident was just that, an accident. This time, when Marcus turned away, Brinks didn’t stop him. Marcus glanced over his shoulder. The others from the office stood in a small cluster talking, but Brinks hadn’t moved. If that man had something to do with the accident, Marcus promised himself he’d find a way to make sure the man suffered worse than his Mistress suffered.

Marcus continued through the hall, shifting his focus to Vera. The nurse greeted him after opening the door for him to enter ICU. This time, the sights and smells didn’t bother him as much. He headed for the small waiting room and took a seat. Forty minutes later, the nurse came and got him.

The walk to Vera’s cubicle was both full of hope and dread, which made no sense to him. He lassoed his conflicting thoughts before they got out of control and dug into his diminishing well of patience. He released a breath as he stood in the doorway and looked at her. Beneath the swaths of bandages, the beeps of the machines, and the drips from the IV, she lay motionless. A part of her face bore cuts. She wore something around her neck. Her extended leg had large screws or pins running through it. Her pain had to be off the charts.

His throat tightened as he tried to make sense of everything. She looked so tiny and alone in her misery. Without thought, he walked as close as he could to the bed. Her right arm bore the weight of the IV feed. Small scratches and welts decorated her fair skin.

He hesitated and then brushed his fingertips against the back of her right hand. Shards of pain pierced his chest as the severity of the accident slammed into him. His breath caught as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Her left side had taken the brunt of the accident, leaving the right appearing unscathed, making everything appear lopsided.

“Mistress,” he whispered, his voice ragged, as tears clogged his throat. “Why didn’t I come pick you up? I should’ve come no matter what you said. Then you wouldn’t be suffering like this.”

A nurse walked in to check something on one of the machines. When she finished, she paused at the door. “She’s young, healthy, strong: important ingredients for recovery. Why don’t you have a seat and talk to her? Talk about happy, positive things. It’ll be good for both of you. Buzz me if you need anything.”

He nodded. Pulling the chair to the right side of the bed, he glanced at the pins in her leg and cringed. Guilt draped him like a dirty blanket. A thousand apologies crowded his mind, eager to pass his lips, but he caged them. Intent on following the nurse’s advice, he spoke of positive things, from his heart.

“I am so grateful you survived the accident, Mistress,” he whispered. Clearing his throat, he touched her hand and curled his fingers around hers. “God smiled and saved your life. I owe him big-time.” He exhaled, searching for something to say. He looked at the contraption on her neck and lost his train of thought.

There were tubes everywhere. Sorrow threatened to drown him. He fought to breathe and remain alert, if not calm.

“I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. Just rest and get better. Nothing else is more important than your recovery.” He stroked her hand and glanced at her battered face. His face crumpled. He sniffled, holding his emotions in check.

“Everyone says I have to be strong for you.” He nodded. “That you need me to hold it together. But seeing you hurt like this…I’m trying. I’m really trying, but my strength is weak just knowing you’re in pain and I can’t fix it. I can’t make it all better for you. How can I be strong, knowing that?”

He took in a gulp of air as he rubbed her fingers, grateful for the small contact. “We’re going to beat this, Mistress.” His head bobbed as fiery determination flooded his belly, heart, and mind. “We’re a team and there’s nothing we can’t do. At first I thought it’d be better to wait before allowing you into my heart. But you had me from the first dance. Your fire, your zest for living rescued me from the shadows of my memories that held me captive. I’m whole again and it’s because of you.

“Whatever it takes, whatever you need, no matter how long it takes, you are going to get better. You’ll write those stories that are in your heart.” He squeezed her hand a little. “Yeah, in no time, you’ll have a book deal, just like you always wanted. I know you will, Vera. Just focus on getting better.” He closed his eyes. “I need you healthy and happy,” he whispered.

An hour and a half later, he was hoarse. He had reminisced on every facet of their relationship. He had butchered her favorite Anita Baker and Luther Vandross songs, much to the delight of the nurses, who found a reason to check her stats during his performance. Intent on ensuring she would hear his voice, he ignored them and their chuckles. He’d even had a one-sided discussion regarding her current manuscript.

He stopped in the middle of his monologue when her fingers moved in his hand. Heart racing, he dared to hope she’d heard him. When her eyes opened, it took her a moment to focus. He squeezed her fingers. “Vera?”

She froze and then looked at him. Her eyes glazed with pain as her lips moved. A grimace crossed her face as she shut her eyes tight.

He pushed the button for the nurse.

“Yes?”

“She’s in pain.”

A nurse walked in and looked at her. “Welcome back, honey. Let me check a few things and then I’ll get you something for the pain, okay?”

Marcus slid back as far as he could without releasing her hand. “I don’t think she can talk,” he said looking at Vera.

Her gaze met his.

“Maybe not right now, but soon.” The nurse did whatever she needed to do and then left the room.

He scooted back near the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. “I love you, Mistress.” Her eyes widened and then she sighed. Or at least he wanted to believe it was a sigh. He watched as the medicine worked its magic. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised as her lids lowered. “I love you so much, Vera.” His voice cracked. Her eyes widened again and then closed.

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

“I’m not leaving her in Georgia, Marcus. She’d going to need a lot of care and that’s something I can give her. I have a housekeeper and two assistants to take her to therapy or whatever appointments she has to attend. This is not a game; this is my daughter’s life. Stop thinking about what you want and think what’s best for her,” Marguerite said in a harsh whisper over a resting Vera. Today marked her third day in ICU and the second day Marguerite had been driving him crazy.

“I am what’s best for her.” He slapped his chest. “And if you don’t agree with that, that’s too bad. She’ll decide where she wants to recuperate, not you. No matter what happens, I’ll be with her.”

“You’re not coming to Tennessee.”

“I’ll be wherever my Mistress is, you can bank on that.” He crossed his arms to keep them from flailing about.

She sighed. “No, Marcus. This was a mistake. Vera wanted to try living a D/s lifestyle and it didn’t work out. She’s fond of you, no question, but this is more serious now. This is more than playing house. She’s going to need major resources and long-term care. I don’t know the status of her job or finances. I’ve got to look into her mortgage and car payment.” She palmed her forehead. “The insurance company has to be contacted about the accident. There’s so much to be done. I don’t want to argue with you about this.” She eyed him.

Marcus sat back in the chair, stumped. This woman was serious. She actually thought she could walk in here and cut him out of Vera’s life. He chuckled, though the sound held little humor. It was more of the you’ve-got-to-be kidding-me variety.

“Do you have power of attorney for her?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

Her face tightened and he knew he’d hit a sore spot. So, she’d just expected him to back off because she said so. He shook his head. She had no idea who he was or how the relationship between him and his Mistress had evolved.

“Never mind, I know you don’t. When was the last time you talked to Vera?” he asked.

Her cheeks reddened. “I’ve been traveling and haven’t talked to her in a couple of weeks. Why?”

He shrugged and stroked his Mistress’ fingers. “For some reason, I think you’re under the impression I answer to you. I don’t.” His eyes hardened as he looked at her. “Vera is my Mistress, to serve and protect. That’s the agreement I have with her until she releases me.”

“For goodness’ sake, Marcus. She never collared you. It’s been what? Six months? Seven? You don’t even have a service collar. Even Vera knew she should mark you in some way to solidify the relationship.” She moved a few steps closer and leaned down. “This was something she wanted to try since her vanilla relationships didn’t work. Believe me, if there was more to your relationship, if she wanted to make it permanent, or take your relationship to another level, I would know. Understand, I can’t leave her care to someone who’s not a serious fixture in her life.”

Marcus looked at Marguerite and banked his surprise. His heart warmed. She’d made several points, most of which made him realize how close he and his Mistress had grown. Even Marguerite was under the impression Vera would discuss major decisions with her. Now he knew she’d stopped. Rather than say something that might damage his Mistress’ relationship with the woman she considered family, he nodded.

BOOK: Lyon on a Leash
5.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Wilde, Jennifer by Love's Tender Fury
Eagle’s Song by Rosanne Bittner
Secret Pleasures by Cheryl Howe
Timegods' World by L.E. Modesitt Jr.
Puddlejumpers by Mark Jean, Christopher Carlson
Risky Pleasures by McKenna Jeffries and Aliyah Burke
Heretics by Greg F. Gifune
Scent of a Wolf's Mate by Tory Richards
Exposure by Iris Blaire