Welcome To Corbin's Bend

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Welcome To Corbin's Bend Page 47

by Thianna D


  Elly shook her head, then winced. "No. It's fine."

  "I have a feeling our conversation may have played havoc with her blood pressure," Marcus added.

  Satisfied, Jayne gave a nod and said, "I'm going to hook you up to an automatic blood pressure monitor, Elly. The cuff will inflate and deflate on its own, so don't worry about it." While the nurse efficiently oversaw Elly's needs, Jerry returned.

  "What's going on?" he demanded.

  Marcus left Elly's side to go to him. "Calm down, Jer, she's fine. We were talking and she became hypertensive. Everything's under control."

  Jerry stared at Brent accusingly. "What did you say to her?"

  Brent raised his hands as if Jerry trained a gun on him. "Easy, kid. I wasn't even the one talking to her."

  Elly extended her arm with the IV. "Jerry…."

  He stepped between the two men and promptly came to her side. His warm fingers wrapped about her cool ones. "I'm here, sweetie. Just relax and do as the nurse tells you."

  "It's not their fault," she whispered.

  Nodding, he rubbed his fingers along the inside of her arm in a soothing gesture. "It's no one's fault, Elly. Now, close your eyes and calm down. I'm here. You've got nothing to worry about, okay?"

  She nodded and obediently closed her eyes.

  The machine beeped. "Pressure is leveling now. 130 over 80. Temperature 98, O2 saturation 98. We'll wait a few minutes and let the monitor check again," Jayne said.

  No one spoke, and Elly felt silly. "I was only a little woozy," she insisted.

  "That's a sign, Elly," Marcus said quietly. "Like I said, your blood pressure needs to be monitored carefully. Extreme fluctuations high or low aren't good."

  "I understand," she whispered.

  "120 over 70," Jayne reported. "How do you feel, Elly?"

  "Okay, now."

  "Perhaps we should try slowly raising her head and see how that goes?" Marcus suggested.

  Jerry operated the control, and they took it a few degrees at a time, stopping to check with her at each step. When the dizziness didn't return, they let her remain in an upright position, but Jayne left both the automatic blood pressure machine and oxygen monitor attached. "We'll let the machine record your levels every fifteen minutes for the next few hours or so to make sure. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything, Elly," Jayne said, and she left.

  "I didn't mean to cause such a commotion."

  Jerry patted her arm and grinned. "We always did say you were a bit of a drama queen."

  Marcus snorted and Brent laughed, but Elly looked concerned. "I'm sorry."

  Jerry tapped her nose. "Kidding, sweetie. You are the furthest thing from a drama queen I could imagine. Now, relax."

  "Perhaps we should go," Brent suggested.

  "Good idea." Marcus rose to his feet. "You're in excellent hands, Elly Benson. Take full advantage of them."

  Elly smiled. "Thank you for visiting."

  "Our pleasure," Brent replied, and the two of them departed, leaving Elly and Jerry alone together.

  "So, what did our friendly doctor say that got your blood pressure rising?" Jerry continued to run his fingers up and down her arm, and though his tone sounded mildly curious, Elly suspected the question was important to him.

  She shook her head. "I guess I didn't realize how much of an invalid I'd be once I left here. I can't even go up stairs."

  "No, not a good idea at all. So, we'll set you up downstairs instead."

  Elly glanced down at her fingers. "Arthur won't like that."

  "Arthur won't be given a vote on the matter."

  Her eyes burning, Elly gazed at Jerry. "I have to go back with him." The blood pressure cuff inflated, counted and deflated.

  Jerry waited until the monitor had finished its check. "Okay, let's start there. Why must you return to Arthur?"

  "Why? He's my husband."

  "So, divorce him. You are allowed to do that, you know?"

  She shook her head. "He'd never permit that."

  "Tell me what happened Friday morning, Elly."

  Elly glanced back at her fingers again. "I can't."

  "Because you don't trust me, or because admitting your husband abuses you is unacceptable to you?"

  His tone filled her with resentment. "I never said he abused me."

  "No, you didn't. But I've seen the results of his handiwork, and what happened to you Friday had nothing to do with domestic discipline."

  "You spank," she accused tightly.

  "True. I do. Except I rarely leave a mark that lasts more than a few hours. If I ordered you to turn over now, I'd see the stripes he left four days ago, and they'll still be visible another four days from now."

  "So? Other heads leave marks lasting a week or more. What's so different about mine?" The monitor kicked in again. Annoyed, Elly reached over to rip the cuff off, but Jerry bent forward and placed his fingers over hers to stop her.

  "Leave it alone, Elly. The cuff is there for a reason." When she lay back, he said, "Why don't you start by telling me what happened after that particular punishment? Did he reassure you how much he loved you? Did he hold and kiss you afterward?"

  "No. But that's not his way."

  "I guess it wouldn't be, would it? Okay, answer this, then. Do you feel renewed and invigorated after your sessions with Arthur?"

  "That's an absurd question, Jerry Douglas. And you know it. No one feels rejuvenated after a punishment."

  Jerry closed his eyes for a moment. "So, what does he do for you?"

  She shrugged. "It varies, I guess. This last time I'd passed out, so he gave me some pills, carried me to the bed, and let me sleep."

  "How generous of him."

  "Yeah? Well, what do you do after one of your punishment sessions, Dr. Douglas?" The machine kicked in again and she cried out in frustration as she grabbed at the cuff's Velcro closing. "I want this off me now."

  This time he rose, grasped her fidgeting fingers and held them until the cuff deflated. "I said no." His voice was quiet, but purposeful. "Now, do you really want to know what I do after a session, Elly Benson?"

  She swallowed. He didn't mean right then, did he? His intense expression both thrilled and frightened her a little. She inched back, then shook her head. "No. I'm sorry."

  "Stop it," he said softly, resuming his seat by her side. "You think I'd punish you for simply asking a question?"

  "Maybe."

  "Does Arthur?"

  "Sometimes. Depends on how I asked the question."

  He chuckled. "Yeah. I can imagine you get pretty snippy at times."

  She smiled. "Sometimes."

  Raising one of her hands to his lips, he kissed her fingers. "Tell me what happened Friday, Elly."

  When she shook her head, he slid the tip of her index finger into the cavern of his warm mouth and gave it a tiny nip. "Unacceptable answer. Try again."

  Elly's lips parted. He was teasing, and yet an erotic undercurrent flowed beneath his playful threat. Though he still held her hand, he'd withdrawn all but the pad of her finger, which he captured between his top and bottom teeth. His eyes proposed a challenge, daring her to defy him. Certain he wouldn't hurt her; she met his gaze without flinching. "No."

  Another nip, this one a bit firmer.

  He hadn't hurt her, but she decided a protest should be made at this point. Curious, she wondered how far he would take this. "Ow."

  "Are you going to tell me?"

  "What if I don't?"

  "Sure you want to play this game now?"

  She considered him for a moment. A game had rules with winners and losers. "Depends."

  He dropped her hand and leaned back in his chair. "On what?"

  "What I gain if I win." This time when the monitor kicked in, she held her breath.

  He waited until the machine had deflated, then picked up her hand again. "Me," he answered simply.

  Her heart gave a sudden lurch and she drew her fingers back with a frown. "That's not funny."


  "I didn't intend for it to be." He reached for her hand again, and she didn't try to pull free this time. "Elly, I don't want you going back to Arthur, for any reason. In fact, if you insist on returning to him, I'll have to leave Corbin's Bend, because I'll be damned if I'm going to watch you ruin your life. So, the results of this conversation could have serious consequences. When you're ready to leave the hospital, I want you to come home with me, but the choice is yours to make. And with me, it always will be your choice."

  Though Elly understood what Jerry was saying, she wasn't sure how to answer him. Arthur was her husband, and he'd never give his permission for her to live with another man. But Jerry wasn't suggesting they ask for Arthur's permission. He was suggesting she leave Arthur. Divorce him. When Elly's stomach cramped at the thought, she reacted defensively. "Arthur allows me a choice as well. He doesn't force me."

  Releasing her hand, he sighed and sat back. "So, Arthur doesn't require your submission to his punishments?"

  She frowned. Arthur did require her submission, but that was his duty as the head of their household, wasn't it? What did Jerry mean? "I promised to obey him in our marriage vows."

  "And what price do you pay for disobedience, Elly?"

  "I get punished. Isn't that the way things work at Corbin's Bend?" Her words were meant as a challenge, but he didn't as much as frown at her. Instead, his expression appeared thoughtful.

  "For most households, yes, I'd say it is. But, we're talking about you and Arthur in particular, and I'd like you to tell me what Arthur views as disobedience."

  "I'm not sure I understand the question."

  He sighed. "Do you have rules?"

  "Yes. You know we do."

  "Do you face consequences for breaking those rules?"

  "Of course."

  "Does Arthur view rule breaking as disobedience?"

  "Of course. All HoH's view rule breaking as punishable." Another challenge, another pass.

  "What other things does Arthur consider punishable?"

  She shrugged. "Back talking, swearing, deliberate rudeness…." She met his gaze. "He has a list, as I'm sure you do, too."

  His expression remained neutral. "Is Arthur's list of punishable offenses separate from the rules he gave you?"

  "No. It's part of them."

  "So, does Arthur punish you for anything outside of breaking a rule?"

  "No," she admitted, wondering what might cause Jerry Douglas to lose his temper. "I guess not." The cuff inflated again, and Elly groaned. Perhaps she could ring the nurse and have her take the thing off.

  When it deflated, Jerry asked, "How many rules does Arthur have?"

  His calm, deliberate questions were beginning to irritate her. "What difference does that make?"

  "Can you answer my question?"

  "No. I don't know. I've never counted them."

  "So, Arthur has an infinite number of rules, which, when broken, result in your punishment. Am I correct?"

  "It's not infinite. I just don't happen to recall the exact number."

  "Surely, the number of rules he has isn't so astronomical you can't count them?"

  "I said the list wasn't infinite," she snapped, her voice rising. "Why does any of this matter?"

  He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  "You're being ridiculous."

  He sat back. "And what would Arthur do if you'd said as much to him?"

  Elly instantly paled. He would have taken a crop to her if she'd called him ridiculous.

  "Nothing," she answered, but she began to get Jerry's point. Arthur would have called her on her attitude long before now, yet Jerry had remained unruffled by her jabs, until she gave her last answer.

  Crossing his arms, he scowled at her. "You're lying to me, and I don't like it."

  She swallowed. "What? Did your super sense tell you that?"

  When he didn't respond to her sally or unfold his arms, she realized she'd touched another sore point with him. "If we were together, would you punish me for being dishonest?"

  "Yes." Her heart lurched into throat, but he didn't make a move toward her. "I won't tolerate any form of lying, but we aren't talking about what I'd do. We're talking about what Arthur would do in this situation. So far, you've called me ridiculous and you've lied to me. What would Arthur's reaction be?"

  Elly drew her lower lip into her mouth and closed her eyes. Jerry had done nothing to deserve her disrespect. Guilt dropped in her stomach like a leaden weight. "He'd whip me for being disrespectful."

  "What would he use to whip you?"

  "A switch, cane or crop."

  "How many times?"

  "I don't know," she protested, wanting to change the subject. She'd been obliged to endure Arthur's punishments, but that didn't mean she wanted to discuss them. "You're talking about a hypothetical situation, and this discussion is non-productive and pointless."

  "Ridiculous and pointless. You're racking them up now, aren't you? Surely, you've been in a similar situation with Arthur, which wouldn't be hypothetical. What did he do?"

  "He gave me ten strokes of the crop for each offense. Happy now?"

  "Not particularly. What happened after your punishment was over?"

  She shrugged. Usually Arthur fucked her, did Jerry want her to spew out all the nasty details?

  "What did he do next, Elly?" The cuff inflated, so she pressed the call button. Jerry remained seated with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression reflected a measure of displeasure, but he didn't interfere.

  "Yes?"

  "This thing is annoying me. Could you remove the cuff now, please?"

  "It's only been in place for an hour, but I'll come in and check the machine."

  "Fine," Elly answered as she tossed the handheld unit on the bed beside her and pressed back against her pillow. Jerry was intentionally baiting her, and she didn't like it, but she didn't want him to leave either. And the thought of him moving out of Corbin's Bend made her stomach tighten with unease. Even now, when he made her angry and frustrated by asking such probing questions, she took comfort in his physical presence. She knew as long as he was beside her, nothing bad would happen because he would protect her.

  Elly hadn't known Jerry for long, but the only time she'd seen him angry was when she'd foolishly risked a punishment to speak with him. And then he'd apologized to her afterward. He didn't even scold her when she called him ridiculous, while Arthur would have demanded an apology and whipped her for daring to speak to him with such disrespect. Jerry, however, searched beyond the angry words to their cause and focused on that instead. Rather than accuse her of impudence for daring to challenge his authority, he explained his reasons for asking. Even so, she suspected his patience had limits, and as an honorable man, he would keep his word, even if it pained him to do so. He said the choice was hers to make, and if she chose Arthur, he'd leave. Arthur was the man she'd promised to love, honor and obey until death. According to Marcus Devon, her husband had come close to ending her life and their marriage on Friday morning. The question was, what did she want to do about it now?

  Though Jerry understood Elly had deliberately avoided answering his question about Arthur's non-existent aftercare, he was determined to be patient, despite her prickly attitude. She clearly didn't want to pursue the direction of their conversation, but unless she sent him away or announced she refused to leave Arthur, he would continue to press. He would fight for her the only way he knew how; by getting her to realize how badly Arthur treated her. His questions angered her, as he suspected they would, but she hadn't dissolved into tears or claimed she was too tired to talk. Nor did she fight his inquisition, despite her small flares of temper and disgust. They would reach either an epiphany, or an impasse.

  "Your blood pressure readings are still pretty erratic, Elly," Jayne informed her. "I think we need to leave the cuff on for another hour. I want to see your BP in the normal range for at least that long."

  Jerry suspected he was responsible. The no
tion he'd been causing Elly harm bothered him. Perhaps he needed to attack the problem from a different angle. Perhaps he should back off for a bit and approach the subject from a new direction later. He rose. "I think my conversation is—"

  "No!" Elly interrupted, and her voice came close to a shout.

  "Relax, dear," the nurse cautioned, but Jerry sat back down and reached for Elly's hand.

  "I suspect my questions have been upsetting you, so I thought I'd give you some time to relax. I wasn't leaving."

  "You weren't?"

  "No, sweetie. I want to talk this through with you, but not if the discussion is causing you problems. You mean more to me than that."

  Her eyes filled with tears. "I do?"

  "Yes, you do. Now lay your head back and relax for a while. We'll talk later."

  When she obeyed him, Jayne gave him a nod. "Better. We'll give it another hour."

  "May I have something to drink, please?"

  "Of course. What would you like?"

  "Ginger ale, please."

  The nurse nodded. "I'll be right back."

  Elly turned her head and gazed at him. "I'm scared."

  "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

  "No. I'm scared what Arthur will do if I try to leave him."

  A part of him wanted to stand up and shout his victory, but he merely gave her cool fingers a squeeze. "We'll talk about that, but let's wait until after your parole officer releases you."

  She smiled. "Thank you."

  After the nurse gave Elly her ginger ale, the cafeteria called to inquire what Elly wanted for dinner. Her options were a little more varied tonight. Still on the bland side, but she could have fish in addition to chicken, and rice in addition to mashed potatoes. She made her selection, then asked Jerry if he wanted anything. His bill would be separate, but he could eat with her. He took the phone and asked what was available.

  Though hospital cafeterias weren't rated five stars, the food was usually nutritious and even palatable at some institutions, so he made a selection. It would ease Elly's mind if he stayed with her, and he wanted her as comfortable as possible, so he made his choices from her available options, which would allow her to sample from his plate as well, if she wished.

  They watched a comedy show on TV that had Elly giggling on occasion while they ate in companionable silence. When she chuckled at a bit of silly dialog, her lovely green eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed pink, but her happiness was fleeting. A thought would emerge, and the brief gaiety vanished beneath sober reflection. He'd distract her by giving her a bite of his fricasseed chicken, which she accepted without question or qualms whenever it was offered. Yeah, he had her eating out of his hand.

 

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