Doctor's Demands: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  As he pulls me back, I try hard to stay where I am. I’m already too far away from Jude. I can’t just leave him. Not after all he’s done for me. I can’t just leave him.

  But the man lifts me up and takes me back toward his car. “I’m going to put you safely in the back seat of my patrol car, mam.”

  “No!” I shout. “My car is right there. Please, let me go to that. My kids are in it!”

  Just as he turns to take me to my car, a loud sound makes my body shake. I can feel heat and I can hear the crunching and ripping sound of metal as I look back and see Jude’s car has blown up and the explosion has thrown the car into the air.

  It comes crashing down, right side up, with flames everywhere. “Jude!”

  MERCY

  The seconds go by like hours as they fight to extinguish the flames. The police officer lets me go, to help the others. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Becky. “The kids need you, Mercy.”

  I nod and look back as the flames engulf Jude and his car. Then I fall to my knees and cry and look up and beg, “Lord, please don’t take him! Please! I will do anything! Don’t take him!”

  Hands on my shoulders have me coming back to myself as Becky tries to pick me up. “Look, the flames are out.”

  I let her pull me up and hang onto her for support. “Please, Lord. Please don’t take him away for us.”

  The paramedics hurry to bring a stretcher as the driver’s side door falls off the car with a loud squeaking groan of melting metal. I see one arm fall out of the side. It’s limp but there’s no blood on it.

  I can’t breathe as the people in different uniforms surround the car and then I see a bunch of movement and the paramedics have him and are hurrying toward the ambulance.

  I bolt toward them and an officer tries to intercept me but I dodge him and make it to them. “Is he alive?”

  They’re in a mad hurry and Jude looks like he’s asleep. I see no burns or injuries to his head, the only piece of him that’s showing under the blanket they’ve covered him with.

  One gives me the briefest glance then says, “He has a pulse and is breathing some. Do you know this man?”

  “I do. His name is Jude Hurst. I’ll notify his family. Where are you taking him?” I ask as I breathe in with a bit of relief. He’s not dead!

  “Parkland,” he says as they load Jude into the ambulance.

  I nod and run back to my car. Becky’s already made it back and the kids are crying incoherently. “It’s okay, kids. It’s okay. He’s alive. Jude’s alive.”

  My hands are shaking as I pick up my phone. The only number I have is Rose’s so I call her. “Hey, Mercy, what’s up?” she answers.

  “Rose,” I say as I try to steady my voice. “Where are you?”

  “Home, why?” she asks.

  “Rose, Jude was in an accident. I need you to get the family and head out to Parkland Hospital.” I hold my breath to try to steady my body and stop the shaking.

  “Oh God! What happened?” she asks with a hushed voice.

  “A semi-truck hit his car. He’s on his way to the hospital now. I can fill you all in on what exactly happened when we all get there.” I find I’m clutching the phone too hard and ease my grip. “Hurry, okay?”

  “We will. See you up there, Mercy.”

  Looking back at the kids, who’ve calmed down some, I say, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  Carter nods at me and I look at Becky who’s pale as a ghost. “Let’s get to the hospital. I’m with you, Mercy.”

  Placing my hand on her shoulder, I say, “Thank you, Becky. You have no idea how bad I need your help right now.”

  She nods and I take a deep breath to try to steady myself. Then I wipe my eyes and put the car in drive. I’ve dealt with things like this before. Just stay calm and deal with things as they happen. That’s all I can do.

  Going very slow, I make my way across the median and go up the access road to get to the hospital. I can’t believe what I’ve done. This is all my fault. How can I ever look at Jude in the eyes again after doing this to him?

  He’s going to hate me!

  He should hate me for what I’ve done. Why did I run away like a dumb ass kid?

  “Should I drive, Mercy?” Becky asks me.

  I look at the speedometer and see I’m going ten miles an hour. “Yes.”

  I stop and get out of the car, passing her as we change seats. She stops and pulls me to her. We hug as she rocks me. “Don’t beat yourself up, Mercy.”

  “If I hadn’t run, this wouldn’t have happened,” I say.

  She lets me go and looks at me with a frown. “He didn’t have to follow you so recklessly. Don’t blame yourself.”

  I lower my head and pull out of her grip. “I have to.”

  Getting into the car, I look back and see Mia’s little nose running and dig in the glove compartment for a tissue. I turn around and hold it to her nose. “Blow.”

  She does then she says, “Unkie, Jude?”

  “He’s going to the hospital. We’ll see him there,” I tell her. Then I look at Carter who is pale and stunned. “It’s going to be okay, Carter.”

  “I want to go home,” he says as he looks at me. “I want to go back home, Aunt Mercy.”

  “Well, we can’t right now,” I tell him. “We have to go to the hospital.”

  Carter starts crying then Mia joins him and I nearly start crying too. Then Becky says, “I tell you what, Carter, Mia, how about we drop Aunt Mercy off at the hospital then I’ll take you kids back to the house?”

  Carter nods. “Okay. I just want to be home.”

  I nod and pat Becky on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Not a problem. I think it’s best to take them to the place they think of as home. The mansion, don’t you?” she asks.

  “I do,” I say.

  But I wonder if I’ll be welcomed there after the family finds out this is all my fault. I wonder what Jude will do. I wonder if Jude will want me anymore. I wonder if he’s going to be okay.

  Becky pulls into the emergency room entrance and I see Jude’s father’s truck is already there. “Do you want us to come in with you or head home?”

  I look at the kids who’ve fallen asleep and say, “You head home. I’ll take a cab home later after I know what his condition is.”

  She nods and I get out and go to face his family and tell them what I’ve done. I doubt they’ll even want me around once they know this is my doing. I don’t even want to be around myself. I’m a terrible person.

  As I walk through the sliding glass doors of the emergency department, I don’t see his family in the full waiting room. So I go to the nurse’s desk. “Jude Hurst was brought in here. Where is his family?”

  She points to the right. “In a waiting room down the hallway there. He’s been taken into surgery.”

  “Surgery?” I ask as a knot forms in my stomach.

  She nods and goes back to doing her paperwork. So I walk down the hallway and know I’ve found them as I hear women crying. I have to stop and lean against the wall to stop myself from falling apart.

  The cool, tiled wall helps my overheated body to calm a little. Then I step away from the wall and go to face his family.

  MERCY

  All eyes are on me as I walk into the little waiting room. They’re all here. Zeek, Ram, Rose, Loretta, and Jim. And it’s Zeek that asks first, “What the hell happened, Mercy?”

  I keep standing. I don’t deserve to get to sit down. “I overheard you guys talking out by the pool. I heard it all. The part where Jude said he had hunted me down. Where he said he got to know the kids and get them to like him to get to me. The part where I was his trophy.”

  Ram shakes his head. “Okay, but why did you run off? I mean, that stuff isn’t that bad.”

  “To me it was. At the time, it was that bad. Now, of course, it seems harmless. I can’t explain to any of you the guilt I feel over this,” I say then put my face in my hands as I can’t
hold the tears back any longer.

  I feel an arm go around me and pull me close. A wide chest is there and I lean against it as I cry. I can’t stop the sobs from coming. Then I feel more hands on me and I hear his mother’s voice say, “Mercy, you can’t blame yourself. The doctor told us he had a pretty high blood alcohol level. If he’d been sober, he wouldn’t have gone after you like that.”

  I shake my head as I know that’s no excuse. “No, this is my fault. I accept the blame. Don’t blame him. If I would’ve stopped when I saw him going to his car, then this wouldn’t have happened. I was childish and now he’s hurt.”

  “He’d drink some ten or so beers, Mercy. He knew he’d had too many to drive. He shouldn’t have done that,” Ram says.

  I look up and wipe my eyes and can’t believe his family is rallying around me like this. After what I’ve done, they’re finding it in their hearts to look past it. I can’t believe it. And I don’t deserve it.

  Jim takes my hand and pulls me out of the family huddle and takes me to sit in a chair. “Let me fill you in on what’s happening with him right now, honey.”

  I sit down and he hands me a box of tissue. Taking one, I blow my nose then say, “Okay. Tell me why he’s in surgery.”

  “It’s his legs. They were pinned and his pelvis seems to be crushed,” his father says.

  I feel another wave of shock flow through me. His pelvis is crushed! “No,” I mumble. “No way.”

  His mother sits on the other side of me and takes my hand. “Things could be so much worse. I’m thankful to have him alive. He may not walk again but he’ll be with us. He’s going to need you, honey.”

  I nod. “I’ll be there. I’ll never leave him. Unless he sends me away for doing this to him.”

  Zeek makes a huffing sound then says, “Don’t let him.”

  I nod. “Did they give an idea of how long the surgery will take?” I ask.

  His mother shakes her head. “There’s just no way to know that.”

  I nod and get up. “I have to call the babysitter and let her know.”

  Leaving the room, I make my way to the bathroom because I have to fall apart. I can’t let them see me when I let it all go. I turn into a puddle of a human being and no one should witness that.

  I find a small bathroom that I can lock myself into alone without fear of anyone coming in and finding me. Then I call Becky. “How is he?” she answers.

  “Well, he has a crushed pelvis and he’s in surgery. His family doesn’t think there is anything life threatening but they have no idea how long the surgery will take. I’m worried because they said he’d had a lot of beer and the bleeding that comes along with alcohol in the system gives me cause for concern. But I’ll keep you informed. How are the kids doing?”

  “They’re playing quietly. They’re acting a little off but I’m sure that’s very normal with all that’s going on. I’ll be here. Don’t worry about a thing. How is his family treating you?” she asks.

  “Great. They keep telling me it’s not my fault. It is, but they keep saying it’s not. They’re blaming the beer for his decision to chase after me.” I look in the mirror and see the dark circles underneath my eyes from my crying and know I’m about to look like a zombie after I fall apart. That’s how I looked for at least a week after my family was killed.

  “That’s good. Mercy, this isn’t your fault. I know you think it was but it’s not. If he’d have been sober.”

  I cut her off because I can’t stand that everyone keeps saying that. “I know. Hey, I’ve got to go. I want to get back to the waiting room just in case anyone shows up with a report on his surgery. I’ll call you later, Becky. Thanks again for all your help. Let the staff know what’s going on. They all love him.”

  “I will. Call me as soon as you know anything and don’t worry about the kids. I’ll take good care of them for you.”

  With the call over. I place the phone in my purse and lean my body against the wall then slowly move down it until I’m sitting on my ass on the floor. This is not an ideal place to have a breakdown but my choices are severely limited.

  The emotion rises inside of me then bursts out like a volcanic eruption. I let it all out. The fear, the anxiety, the worry. I let it rise to the surface and feel every horrible little pain in every emotion that’s coming up inside of me.

  Just like my therapist said to do. Don’t hold it in. Let it out.

  Giving myself permission to be weak for this moment, I wail with sorrow for what I’ve done. I vow to spend every second of my life, making it up to him. I vow to always be there for him and I pray for him.

  Pray he makes it out of the operating room. Pray he makes a complete recovery. And pray that he can forgive me for what I’ve done.

  I cry and cry until no more tears flow. Until the sobs settle in my chest and my brain is a void of spent emotions.

  I can cope for now. I’ve spewed out everything and can cope for a little while.

  A knock comes at the door and I hear a woman say, “Mercy, are you in there?”

  “Yes,” I say as I struggle to get up off the floor. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Okay, darling. You’ve been in here for over an hour. We’re worried about you,” Jude’s mother says.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you guys worry. I’m going to wash my face then I’ll be there.”

  Looking in the mirror I see that same woman I saw in it a little over two years ago when my life changed, drastically. She’s still there, just underneath the surface. I knew she had never left. I knew she was there, waiting for the next tragedy to happen.

  Expecting it to happen.

  JUDE

  The sound of beeps and air flowing wakes me up. I try to open my eyes but they feel too heavy. I hear a man say, “He should be coming around soon.”

  Another man says, “I don’t want him told until he has his family around him. Make sure of that please, Marcie.”

  A woman says, “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure of that.”

  I wonder what I need to be told and where the hell I am. It’s really cold. I can feel that.

  I try to wiggle my fingers and don’t think I’m doing that. I smell something like rubbing alcohol and I’m reminded of a doctor’s office. But why would I be in one and why would I be unable to move?”

  A snapping sound comes from right next to my head then I hear the man who spoke last say, “Poor man. Right at his prime. Such a shame. When will people learn not to drive under the influence of alcohol?”

  I did that?

  I don’t remember doing that. I don’t think that’s a thing I’d even do. If I’m drinking, I always hire a driver. So why was I drinking and driving?

  And why did he call me a poor man?

  The lady’s voice asks, “Before you go, doc, have you ever seen a case like his where the patient made a full recovery?”

  “It can happen. I know that. I haven’t seen one myself but anything is possible, Marcie.”

  “It would be a damn shame if he doesn’t recover. They said he doesn’t have any children yet,” she says.

  “What a shame,” the guy near my head says.

  Another woman in the room says, “Maybe, but maybe he never wanted kids. You never know.”

  I want kids!

  What the fuck happened to me?

  MERCY

  After several hours waiting and praying we all look up as a man in green scrubs comes into the waiting room. “The Hursts?” he asks.

  Jim gets up and says, “That’s us. How’s Jude?”

  “Um, he’s coming out of the anesthesia. His vitals are good for his condition. It’s going to be a while before he leaves the hospital, though. And when he leaves here, he’ll need to go to rehab for a while before he can go home. It’ll probably take near to a year.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. A year before Jude can come home!

  Jim puts his hand on Loretta’s shoulder as he asks, “Will he be able to walk again, doc?”<
br />
  “I hate to say yes or no. I hate to give false hope but I have to tell you that anything can happen. He’s in fantastic shape. He seems like he must have a determined spirit.”

  “You have no idea,” I whisper.

  The doctor looks at me and asks, “Are you his girlfriend or something?”

  I nod. “I am.”

  “Oh, well.” He stops and looks down at the floor and moves his foot over it in a nervous-like way. “I probably am not in the right by saying this but I’m going to say it anyway. He most likely will never be able to have children. There was extensive damage to some of his reproductive organs.”

  Several gasps come from around me and one may have escaped myself. “Oh.”

  He nods. “So try not to bring anything like kids up with him right now. He’s most likely not going to take the news he can’t walk real well. At his age, most don’t. Adding in the inability to reproduce too might cause him to go into a depression which hinders progress as one can imagine.”

  “Okay,” I say and smile. “The most important thing is we still have him.”

  He nods. “That you do. His injuries are not life-threatening. So there are multiple blessings and that would be best to point out as this news is given to him. I’ve instructed his charge nurse that his family is to be around him when he’s informed of his condition. I’m about to go into another surgery so my fellow surgeon will be coming into his room after he’s finished in the recovery room.”

  “We’ll be brought in then, right?” his mother asks.

  The doctor nods. “Yes, before he’s told anything, you will be allowed in. And just remember to keep good spirits. Upbeat attitudes help. But if he needs to cry, let him. Okay, Dad,” he says as he looks at Jim. “I know cowboys don’t cry but when they lose the use of their legs and their private parts, most do.”

  I find the words coming out of my mouth before I know what I’m doing, “He can’t have sex at all? Even when the wounds have healed?”

  The doctor smiles an embarrassed smile. “We won’t know until that time comes. Sorry, I wish I could tell you more but time will let us know more about what he’ll be able to do.”