Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon (14 page)

He smiled. “Is there anything besides your right foot that doesn't hurt?"

She did a quick inventory and said, “Not much. Can you... put ice...knee and hand?"

His eyes evaluated her as he talked. “Yeah, we can do that. How's your vision, do you see one or two of me?"

"One, but... you're blurry."

A different voice, from a direction she couldn't see. “Your boyfriend's almost here sweet thing, the police knocked on the door and let him know where you were. He's pretty frantic, so I'm glad I got to assure him you're awake and talking. We'll bring him back when he gets here. Your sister's on her way, too."

Oh god, he'd be so scared. “Thanks. Can... get this off... my neck?” She didn't want him to walk in and see it on her.

"Not yet, still waiting for those x-rays, hopefully we can take it off soon."

Dana must have drifted off again, when she awoke she felt a familiar touch on her right hand, but could only see the ceiling when she opened her eyes. She squeezed his hand and he came into view, looking drawn. “You're awake. Thank goodness. I've been so worried."

Words were hard again, but she thought carefully and managed to get out, “Glad you're here."

"Do you remember what happened?"

She tried to shake her head, winced at the pain. “No."

A brisk voice from the far side of the room said, “That's okay, you may have been knocked unconscious right away, but while you're awake I need to ask you some questions, get you to remember some other things."

The first questions were easy, wanting to know her name, the year she was born, her kindergarten teacher's name, and where she graduated high school. There were a couple of simple math problems, and queries about what she ate for dinner last night and breakfast this morning. A few things didn't come to her right away, but it made her relax a little to know she'd answered everything they asked.

A nurse began shaving the side of her head with clippers after explaining they'd cut most of the hair away while they worked to stop the bleeding, but she needed to shave the area so the surgeon could sew her up.

Hours later, Dana and Zach were finally alone, though still in the emergency room. The neck brace was gone and her bed was raised enough she could look around. Her left hand was in a splint, with several knuckles swollen to more than twice their size, and most of the hand black and blue. According to the x-rays, her fingers were jammed but not broken, which meant they hurt like the dickens now but should be okay within a week to ten days. Her knee didn't look much better than her hand, but was apparently just banged up; the verdict again being nothing was broken.

"Have they said when I can go home?” Breathing and talking were easier now—sore instead of painful.

"No. They're getting a room ready for you, so you'll be here at least tonight."

"Can I have something to drink? And now that I'm out of the neck brace maybe they'll take this damned catheter out?"

Zach smiled. “You get pissy when you're the patient. From what the nurse said, you should be able to have ice in about another,” he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, “forty minutes. They don't want you up walking yet, so try making friends with the cath."

His face sobered. “I was so scared when the officers knocked on the door, asking if you lived there, and what relation I was to you. I was sure they were going to tell me...” his voice choked up and he turned his head to look at the wall. “I thought you were gone, Dana—that I'd lost you."

"Hey, I'm okay—a little beat up, but I'll survive.” Her heart broke for him, and she wished she could get up from this damned bed and comfort him.

His eyes met hers again, glistening with unshed tears. “I'm buying you a new car—the safest thing I can find. If I could get away with putting you in a tank, I would."

She started to argue, but realized it wasn't the time. “We'll figure it out later. I have no idea what shape mine's in—or where my purse, cellphone, and tablet ended up. Hopefully someone called my clients to let them know why I didn't show.” Just thinking of it all made her head hurt worse and she closed her eyes and rested it on the pillows propped behind her.

"An officer is supposed to stop by this evening or tomorrow morning to get your statement, and I'm told we'll have to ask him about your purse. Your phone was broken during the crash; they couldn't use it to get your emergency contacts."

Her eyes still closed, she squeezed his hand. “I'm sorry you were scared. You need to talk to Kirsten, even if it's just five or ten minutes on the phone. And we should call Brent and Jacob."

He pulled his cellphone from his pocket. “Let's take care of Brent and Jacob first."

"Let me talk first, so they can hear my voice before you tell them what happened."

Dana's catheter was taken out the next morning, and she was allowed to get up and walk. Her head was better, but her body hurt worse than it had the day before.

One of the nurses helped her up and stayed with her as she limped down the hallway a short distance with Zach following along, encouraging her. His eyes looked haunted, but she didn't know how to fix it.

Her knee hurt dreadfully and she couldn't go far. When they returned to her room she asked to go into the restroom, wanting to wash her face and brush her teeth. The nurse walked her in and Dana finally saw herself in a mirror, her eyes a deeper blue, as if reflecting the bruising all around them.

Most of the hair on her left side was shaved, with ugly stitches zigzagging across her scalp like a drunken spider web. Her left eye was black, blue, and a little purple; and the skin on the right side of her face was stark white. She looked half zombie and half vampire. It was hideous.

The nurse spoke cheerfully. “Your face is just bruised and will heal in no time. Your hair will take longer to grow back, but it'll cover the scars from the stitches, and I can give you the name of a gal who does extensions—once you get a few weeks’ growth she'll be able to work miracles. We're just keeping you now until we're sure you won't have complications from the concussion. You're doing well, and if nothing changes they may let you go home this evening. You were very lucky."

"If I were
lucky
I'd have left the house ten seconds earlier. But, yeah, I know what you mean."

Dana brushed her teeth and gently cleansed her face with warm water before making her way back into bed. There was a knock on the open door as the nurse was taking her vital signs.

"Ms. Bennett? Are you feeling up to answering a few questions?” She looked up to see a handsome policeman standing outside the door, waiting for an invitation before intruding.

"Come on in, officer, and
please
tell me the bag you're carrying has my purse in it."

He smiled. “It does. Mr. Irving asked me to sign it out for you, save you a trip to the service center."

The nurse double-checked Dana's connections and took her leave as Dana unsealed the bag and pulled her tablet out of the protective neoprene sleeve sewn into her purse. She turned it on, happy to see it coming to life, and then set it aside.

"It looks like my tablet survived. Where did my broken cellphone end up? I need the memory card out of it... Ah, here it is. Zach, can you fix it? It's already busted, so it's not like you could break it any worse."

Zach took it from her. “I'll see what I can do."

The officer was standing with feet shoulder width apart and his hands behind his back, and it reminded her of Jacob, waiting for an order. God, she missed him. He wouldn't look at her in horror the way Zach was, but at least now she knew why—Zach was disgusted by bruises, and she was bruised all over.

"Are you okay, Ma'am? If you aren't up to this I can come back."

"No, I'm fine—your stance reminded me of someone; I'm sorry if I zoned out on you. Can you tell me what happened?"

He smiled and shifted his legs closer together, dropping his hands to his side. “I can tell you what we've pieced together, but I'd like to hear what you remember before I do."

"I don't recall much of anything. I was driving along and there was a horrible impact, terrible pain, and then nothing. I have a foggy awareness of part of the ambulance ride, but I didn't wake up until I was in the emergency room."

Nodding, he said, “Fits with what the witnesses said. A driver lost control and apparently pushed down on the accelerator instead of the break as he shot across a few lanes of traffic. He slammed into your car, knocked you off the interstate, and your vehicle rolled down an embankment and—we believe—flipped twice. Your airbags and seatbelt saved you, but the angle you were hit kept the side airbag from deploying."

He stepped closer to her and said, “It's good to see you sitting up and smiling, Ma'am. It was a bad scene, and you weren't conscious. I have what I need from you, but here's my card—if you remember anything else, please let me know."

When he was gone, she turned her tablet on and looked for an internet connection, pleased to see the hospital had guest wi-fi. Zach was working on her phone and said, “The screen's cracked; even if I can get it on I doubt the touch'll work."

She sighed, tears threatening to spill. Her hand rubbed across bruised skin when she tried to wipe her eyes, and the floodgates opened.

"Hey, it's just a phone; you can use mine until we get you a new one."

"It's not the stupid phone. I know how disgusted you are by bruises, and the left side of my face and body are a series of them. No wonder you keep looking at me in horror. If you'll run home and get my makeup, I'll try to cover them."

"Oh, Dana, I'm not revolted by any part of you. I'm trying to deal with... I had this idea the universe couldn't possibly take two people from me in the same life—it happened once, and I should be immune to losing anyone else. But I realized yesterday there's nothing to keep the asshole who calls himself a god from bitch slapping me again."

She almost recoiled from the anger in his voice, but she kept calm as she said, “Can I see your phone a minute, please?"

He unlocked it and handed it to her, returning his focus to hers as she scrolled through his contacts and hit send. She got Kirsten's receptionist and left a message she hoped would get them a call back between appointments. He didn't comment when she disconnected, and she started to ask where the screwdriver had come from, but her mind was still on the bruises.

"I overheard you talking to Brent and Jacob, telling them you didn't think you could give me bruises. This is supposed to be about both of us. I need to know you'll never do anything that disgusts you, just to please me."

Still absorbed in her phone, he said, “I can't promise that. You've done things for me that mortified you, only because I wanted you to."

"Well, yeah, but I'm the submissive. If I can force you into activities you aren't comfortable with...” She stopped, not sure how to explain.

He met her eyes. “Being the one who makes the decisions comes with a lot of responsibility. You've seen it from the Top with Jacob—I've observed you doing things for his pleasure, and not your own. The Dom has to find balance. Brent does it, too. If Jacob didn't have this strong need to have a woman in his life, Brent wouldn't go out of his way to make sure it happened. You're mine, and that means I'm responsible for seeing your needs are met. You've told me you need marks a few times a year, so I'll figure out how to give them."

"What disgusts you so much about it?"

He shook his head and put the phone on the bed table, leaning towards her, wrapping his hand around hers. “It doesn't disgust me. It... intrigues me. I'd convinced myself I'm not wired as a sadist, but a Dom who enjoys displays of power. But then, when we played the first time without the D/s aspect, I
needed
to hurt you, and I've had to acknowledge some sadistic tendencies. I primarily get off on the power it gives me, but without it, I still need to inflict pain."

"Interesting information, but it didn't answer the question."

"I'm getting there,” he said, one side of his mouth curling into a half smile. “Once you reach a certain point, you won't safeword; it's my responsibility to know when to end the scene. The first time we try it, Brent will be there to help act as a buffer because I'm not sure I trust my inner sadist to take you that far and stop when I should if it's just the two of us. Brent says I'll be fine since I'm questioning myself, but I'm not so sure."

"You don't think I'm sick to want..."

"No! I love you. All of you."

Zach's cell phone rang, and it didn't take Dana long to figure out it was Kirsten. Her feelings were a little wounded when he walked out of the room, obviously wanting privacy, but she told herself it was for the best, that he needed to work through his issues and Kirsten would help.

She was feeling sorry for herself when the door opened, and she turned to see Jacob and Brent. Her smile was so big it hurt her face, making her wince as laughter bubbled out because she was so happy to see them. Jacob slid his shoes off and climbed into bed beside her, staying on her right side and being very careful. It made her feel cherished and special, and she burst into tears.

Jacob held her and comforted her, not the least bit bothered by her waterworks. The nurse came in to check on her, asking if she were in pain.

She shook her head and tried to compose herself enough to answer, finally saying, “No, not physical pain. Just releasing some emotions, I guess."

The nurse looked at Jacob speculatively. “I thought the other fella was your boyfriend. There won't be any drama when he gets off the phone and comes back, right?"

Brent had walked to the far side of the bed, his hand on her foot as an anchor while she cried, and he answered. “Not at all. We saw him in the hallway on our way in, and I'm sure he's glad we're in here with her while he's handling whatever business must have come up. We aren't here to cause trouble, just needed to see for ourselves she's okay."

She'd buried her face in Jacob's neck, and she pulled back enough to talk. “I thought both of you had busy schedules? You shouldn't have taken the time to drive down; I told you I'm fine."