by S. E. Lund
Sometime later, I woke, my eyes opening and slowly focusing. Beside me sat Kate, her face pale from worry, her eyes warm.
Beautiful Kate.
"You're here," I said when my vision cleared. I reached out my hand and Kate took it in hers. She stood up, leaning over to kiss my good cheek.
"I am," she said, tears in her eyes.
"How long have you been here?"
"Not long. How are you feeling?"
"Banged up," I replied dryly, forcing a smile to assure her I was okay. "But otherwise fine. Don't worry. My concussion is mild, but to be on the safe side, they'll keep me in overnight."
"I spoke with the nurse," she said and straightened the bed sheet around me. "I brought your pajamas and toothbrush. Are you able to get up and walk around?"
"Oh, sure," I said and moved my bed more upright. "But I have a bitch of a headache that is worse when I get up completely."
"Can't they give you anything for it?"
I shrugged. "Tylenol, but it doesn't work completely. Plus, they don't want to mask any more serious symptoms that might indicate bleeding."
"Oh, Drake," she said and frowned. "I thought they ruled that out with the MRI."
"It can be minimal at first and progress. By tomorrow, I'll have another scan and check before they let me go. Until then, I can't do anything stressful, no reading, no television. Just lie here like a lump and let my brain recover."
"I brought your iPad thinking you could at least read," she said with a frown. "But we can talk."
"We can talk," I replied and smiled at her, squeezing her hand once more. "Sorry that you're missing your studio time."
"Don't even say that," she said adamantly. "You're the most important thing in the world to me, along with Sophie. I can paint any time."
"Is Sophie with Karen?"
"Yes, she came right over as soon as I called."
"Good," I said and briefly closed my eyes, which felt tired just from being open for that long. "That's good."
"You tired?"
I could tell Kate moved the chair closer to the bed by the sound of it scraping on the floor.
"If you want to sleep, go ahead. I can amuse myself. I have a novel downloaded to my phone I've been meaning to read."
"That sounds good," I said and peered at her from under one eyelid. "I may sleep for a while if you don't mind."
"You sleep if you feel like it. I'm a big girl."
"Okay, nurse," I said with a smile, my eyes closed.
* * *
I woke sometime later, my hearing gradually returning, but consciousness was slow to re-emerge. I felt like I was in a strange time warp, and that everything had slowed down. Finally, I came to completely and took in a deep breath. Kate was still sitting beside me, her eyes on her cell as she must have been reading that book she mentioned. She looked a little better than earlier, probably less worried now that she had a chance to talk to me and realized I was all right. I didn't say anything, just watched her, so glad to have her in my life, unable to think of a life without her and Sophie.
Every day when I worked in the hospital, and especially after working on the trauma team in California, I saw the results of the harm that could come to humans and the brain, either from diseases like cancer and epilepsy, or from accidents and violence. I never thought it would be me on the receiving end, having been lulled into complacency from a lifetime of freedom from serious injury.
After my father died in a plane crash, some of that sense of invincibility disappeared, but I still felt it was so unlikely, you couldn't change the way you lived to prevent something like a death in a plane crash. My false sense of my ability to protect my loved ones died when Kate was attacked, and I had felt vulnerable for a long time after, my faith in my own ability to deal with the risks in life eroded. That was why I hired bodyguards for Kate and myself. But I never suspected I would really become a target. I had this vague sense that I could become one, but it was just an overabundance of caution rather than a real sense of personal danger.
Now, even that was gone.
I thought about Monroe. He seemed irrational and unable to see that his sister had been found guilty of attempted murder, and was now facing a murder charge. Surely by now he must have realized she was a danger, and was a sociopath. Was he that blinded by his blood ties to her that he couldn't see it? Someone like Lisa went through life lying and cheating those around her. Sure, she might flatter them at first, get them on her side, and could be charming, but soon, the lies would start, the manipulation and then the harm. Her brother seemed unable to see clearly that this was on Lisa, not me or Derek Richardson. She had been an adult when she became involved with Richardson and with me.
It was her who did harm, not us.
I took in a deep breath and stretched and Kate realized that I was awake. She glanced over at me, her expression softening immediately. She slipped her cell into her pocket and stood up, leaning over to give me a kiss. Her lips pressed against mine and she held my face -- the good side of my face -- in her hand.
"You're awake."
"I am." I glanced at the clock on the wall. About thirty minutes had passed since I fell asleep.
For the rest of the afternoon, I either snoozed or talked with Kate about everything -- the trial, the attack, and my injury. By the time the workers started to bring dinner around, Kate had been with me for several hours.
"Do you want to get something for yourself and bring it up here?"
"I do," she said and left me alone. The worker brought in my tray and I moved the head of my bed up a bit more, checking under the domes to see what was for supper.
A lump of what looked like meatloaf, some pasty mashed potatoes, some mixed vegetables, and a cup of vanilla pudding. It looked like what I thought I'd get in prison, but my stomach grumbled. I'd missed lunch and was hungry.
I waited as long as I could for Kate to return but realized there was a limit to how long food like that would stay palatable and cold meatloaf was not something I wanted to risk. I ate my meal, and when Kate returned with a sandwich, some chocolate milk and cookies in hand, I was half done.
"What have you got?" she asked and peered at my tray. When she made a face at the food, I laughed.
"You'd never survive working at a hospital. Or living in a prison."
We ate together and talked more about the trial and the attack. It made me tired and my headache worsened.
"I should turn the lights down and rest," I said, grimacing at the pain.
"Do you want me to call the nurse?" she asked, frowning. "Maybe you need more pain meds."
"No, that's okay," I said and closed my eyes. Kate turned off the main overhead light and so the only light coming in was through the window. "I just need to close my eyes for a while."
For the rest of the evening, Kate sat with me and when I felt like it, I slept and when I woke, we talked. Finally, at around eight at night, Kate was ready to go back home.
"Sophie's already in bed," Kate said to me as she pulled my covers up and tucked them in around me. "I'll go home now so Karen can go to her own house. She'll come back tomorrow if I need her. When do you think you'll be discharged?"
I shrugged. "They'll do a follow-up scan and if that's okay, they'll discharge me after lunch. I'll get John to give me a ride home. Then I'll just have to take it easy for a while. Maybe a week to ten days, depending."
Kate bent over the bed and kisses me tenderly, her hands cupping my face.
"I hate to leave you," she said, her eyes moist. "We haven't been apart at night since I was in the hospital and I don't like it."
"Text me when you get into bed," I said and squeezed her arm. She kissed me again, and then got her coat and waved to me when she left the room, her expression sad.
I didn't like being separated from Kate either, but it was for the best. The knowledge that I'd be going home in the morning comforted me so that I was able to close my eyes and go to sleep.
* * *
I w
oke up around eleven to the sound of my cell phone dinging. I wasn't supposed to be using my cell for any work, but I decided I wanted to read Kate's text.
KATE: Hey, you. I miss you in my bed Dr. Dangerous.
DRAKE: Dr. Dangerous? They're calling me that now? I'm not at all dangerous. Quite the opposite.
KATE: No, you're not. You're delicious. Delectable. Delightful. You're dangerous the way Rocky Road ice cream is dangerous -- you can't help but want more more more.
DRAKE: Mmmm. Rocky Road ice cream... Damn. Now you've got me craving ice cream. I wonder if John would go out on an ice cream run for me.
KATE: You must be feeling better if you're hungry.
DRAKE: I always feel better after talking to you, Ms. Bennet. Did I tell you lately that I love you?
KATE: You did earlier today but you can tell me again if it pleases you.
DRAKE: It pleases me very much. I love you, Mrs. Morgan. Sleep tight. See you tomorrow.
KATE: I love you, Dr. Morgan. Don't let the bedbugs bite.
DRAKE: Give Sophie a hug and kiss from me and tell her that her daddy loves her very much.
KATE: I will. Good night my love.
DRAKE: Good night to you, my love.
I smiled, feeling all warm and fuzzy from the conversation with Kate. Knowing that she was happy, and that she loved me made it easy to just close my eyes and drift off.
And so I did.
Kate
Drake came home from the hospital and after ten days of taking it easy, lying on the sofa, sleeping and occasionally watching television, he was almost back to normal. Because of the attack, Drake's testimony was delayed so he could recover. It meant that he would be attending court a few days before the end of the trial. We had hoped the judge would allow him to give his testimony in private due to the stress of a courtroom appearance, but that wasn't granted because a physician found he was healthy enough to appear in person.
On the day before his testimony, he went in to meet with the assistant district attorney prosecuting the case to go over the potential questions she would ask and those the defense would likely be asking.
Both of us knew the cross-examination by the defense lawyer wouldn't be pleasant.
He got dressed in business casual, and pulled on his coat on his way out. I went to him and slipped my arms around him before he left. He was preoccupied with the trial and I wanted to remind him that soon, all this would be over. That he had a loving wife and baby – and a young son to look forward to spending time with.
"Ah, Ms. Bennet," he said when he finally focused on me. "How glad I am to have you."
We kissed and he pulled me tightly against his body, which was warm and strong.
"This will soon be over. We'll look back and be glad that we got through it. One day, when we're in the Bahamas, we'll be lying on the beach beside each other, the sun on our faces, Sophie playing in the sand, and we'll smile at each other and remember this moment."
He kissed me. "I hope so. It better happen, because that vision is helping me get through today and tomorrow. I'm sure tomorrow's going to be a real shit-show, with Lisa's attorney grilling me about what an exploitative sadist I am to force poor innocent Lisa into a sexual relationship of dominance and submission."
"She'll try, but I hope the ADA is competent enough to re-direct the jury to see what a manipulative woman Lisa is and that she planned and carried out a cold-blooded murder with the help of Jones."
"I hope so," Drake said and sighed. For a moment, we stood in the embrace, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies.
"I better go," he said finally and pulled out of my arms with clear reluctance. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Maybe this afternoon we can go out for a walk in Central Park. It looks like a nice sunny day. Might be one of the last ones we'll get before the real cold weather starts."
"Sounds good," I said and watched as he went down the stairs to the front door of the building. I closed and locked the door and then went to the bay window and watched while Drake got into the vehicle John had waiting at the front. As they drove off, I hoped that the stress wasn't too much for Drake and was once again angry that the judge didn't agree to let Drake do all this in private. It gave me a bad sense that the judge might be pre-disposed to blame Drake and Derek in part for Lisa's actions.
I went back to the living room where Sophie played on the floor with her tiny town people. The television was tuned to a children's show and I took the remote control, selecting a local news station to see if they were covering the trial. Sure enough, at the top of the hour when the news update came on, the announcers talked together about the trial, going over the previous day's testimony by defense witnesses, who all claimed that Lisa was a poor battered woman who was led down the path of evil by the men in her life who variously abused and exploited her innocence.
I was sickened to hear them paint this picture of her because it diminished real cases where this was the truth. There were battered women who occasionally took the law into their own hands to stop their abuser but this was clearly not the case with Lisa. She planned to kill Derek. The police were certain of it, and there was evidence to prove that. This charade about her being misled by Derek and Drake and killing Derek to protect herself was meant to hurt Drake -- that was certain. Her letter said as much. She wanted to punish Drake for spurning her. She probably knew she would be found guilty and sentenced to life without chance of parole for a very long time and so wanted to harm Drake as much as she could in the process.
Of course, they also talked about the attack on Drake and how his testimony had to be delayed because of his concussion. That meant that everyone who followed the trial and was interested could go to the courthouse and hear his testimony. I could only imagine it would be almost impossible to find a seat in the courtroom due to all the curious who wanted to watch Doctor Dangerous tell the court about his relationship with murdered Derek Richardson and accused Lisa Monroe.
Lisa's brother, Jeff, was released on bail but was prohibited from coming within one hundred feet of Drake due to a restraining order Lara filed on Drake's behalf. That meant at least he wouldn't be in the courtroom or anywhere near the courthouse when Drake arrived to give his testimony. He also had to stay that far away from our apartment, which made me feel somewhat safer, but there was no telling whether the man would ignore the restraining order.
I sat and listened to the two female reporters talking about the trial and the public interest in the case and thought how it had already changed Drake's life so much. It was unfair in the extreme. The report showed images from the attack on Drake taken by witnesses who were at the scene, including one of Drake lying on his back, clearly unconscious and a crazed Monroe being held back by two plain clothed police officers.
The news station just loved the footage from one bystander who videotaped the aftermath and sent in the footage. During the first days after the attack, we saw endless loops of Monroe struggling with police while John knelt to tend to Drake and other police on scene tried to move onlookers back. Then the ambulance arriving and tending to Drake, eventually rolling him into the ambulance for all the world to see, a bandage on his cheek and head and as well as a neck brace. Then, of course, they skipped to a grainy image which was poorly lit, featuring a bound Lisa apparently being menaced by the pot-bellied hairy man who was definitely not Drake.
Even the two announcers commented that the image they had of Drake in his swim trunks did not resemble the man in the video and finally, I felt like maybe there was a crack in the narrative that it was Drake in that video. I was hopeful, but I doubted anyone who mattered in the fellowship program at NYU or in the administration at NYP would care about the distinction. Nor would board members and funders at the foundation or corporation.
Simply put, Drake was bad news. No one wanted to be associated with him, except for the O'Rileys and Dave Mills.
They were the only remaining friends that Drake had. The rest had slipped away and had not contacted Drake t
o wish him well.
So much for friends...
* * *
My cell rang and I picked it up to check the call display.
It was my father.
"How's Drake? I understand they're going forward with his testimony tomorrow."
I sighed. "He's better physically, but this will be stressful. I'm so angry at the judge for not allowing Drake to give his testimony in private so he didn't have to go to court. They've done it before for other witnesses, but the judge wasn't sympathetic."
"I know the judge," my father said, an acid tone in his voice. "Hogan. A bit of a stickler and is especially by the books with any crimes involving sex."
"But the crime didn't involve sex. It was a straight-up murder of Derek so Lisa and Jones could live in his cabin and use his money."
"I know, sweetheart, but because of the BDSM angle, the forces of righteousness are out in droves, their side claiming this case as their own, using it to advance their own agenda."
"It makes me sick. You know that those who are the strongest opponents to this kind of thing often are fighting a battle in themselves and the issue allows them to feel better about their own weaknesses. You know, the pastor who rails against homosexual marriage and then is caught with a male prostitute..."
"I know that all too well, having presided over a few cases in my time. It's sad that this happens, but it does. I'm sure Drake will do fine at the trial. He's a pretty cool cucumber."
"He was just attacked and has a concussion. His reputation has been smeared and he's lost most of what he loves -- his job at NYP, his fellowship, his position on the board of his foundation and corporation..."
"Things will get back to normal. Give it time."
I sighed. Of course, he was right.
We then spoke about a trip to the Bahamas as a family. I really couldn't wait to get away from Manhattan's grey cloudy days and drizzle, and go somewhere with sunshine, white sand beaches and warm air.