I did not lower my own gaze until Malcolm cleared his throat. I saw that he had sat down on the other side of Becca. That Darryl had taken a seat in the other chair beside me. Similar to our arrangement from last night.
"First things first," Malcolm said, his voice back to normal and his breathing apparently under control. "There has been a lot of tension in this family for almost a year now. This has to stop. Right now."
No one disagreed, at least aloud. Malcolm must have taken that as a cue to continue.
"Drake, you hurt your sister, and then you cut her off. All she ever wanted was your understanding...and an apology. You had your reasons, and she had hers. But she's your fucking sister! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Again, there was no response. Especially from Drake. I'd not seen him this stubborn since that night in the hospital's conference room. Was he impervious to any criticism?
"Now, this bullshit with your wife's ex-boyfriend..." my brother-in-law said with a sigh.
I had been staring at Drake's lap...at his hands that were resting there. They fisted now. Malcolm had hit a nerve.
"This is between me and my sla— wife," Drake said. "It can be taken care of back home."
Malcolm smacked his fist down on the end table, making the lamp rattle. "I said no one is going anywhere! And her name is Daphne, or have your forgotten?"
"I have not." Drake's voice was clipped, like a smart-ass child.
"Good. Now what the fuck have you been doing with Jimmy Driscoll? You know very well how damaged he is. What he did to Daphne—"
"This is none of your business!" Drake yelled, shooting to his feet.
Darryl leapt from his chair toward me just as Becca threw her body across the front of mine. Their protection was not needed as Drake just began to pace.
Becca got up as well and stepped in front of her brother as he headed back toward the fireplace. "It is my business when my sister-in-law can't even pick up the goddamn phone and call me!"
Drake yelled at her to move. She screamed at him to grow some real balls. Malcolm told them both to calm down.
"You didn't even tell her I was married!" Becca said, pointing at me. "I wanted you at my wedding! But you thought it was more important to hold a grudge. Has it been easy to pretend we don't exist?"
I couldn't see Drake's expression with his back to me, but I imagined he was glaring at her.
"You know what you are, Drake?" Becca poked her finger into his chest now. "You're a coward."
He raised a hand.
Becca flung her arms out. "Do it! Hit me like you want to hit your wife. Just like her fucking ex did!"
"Don't you dare!" Malcolm leapt up from the couch.
Drake held up both hands in surrender and tried get around Becca instead to get past the coffee table. She resisted, moving to block him. They did a little side-to-side dance that would have been comical if not for the gravity of the situation.
I don't know if it was the childish bickering or that fact that I'd felt so suppressed for so long, but something inside of me snapped.
I shot up from my seat and screamed at the top of my lungs. It felt so amazing, I did it again. When I opened my eyes, everyone was watching me. Drake had his hands on Becca's shoulders, and Malcolm had his hands on Drake's, apparently trying to pull him away.
I yelled, although my voice was hoarse now, "Stop it! Just stop it!"
Whatever adrenaline had been in me seemed to have escaped with my outburst. My whole body was shaking. Suddenly, I collapsed.
Darryl caught me as I almost missed the couch. "Daphne, are you okay?"
I blinked and nodded. Tears slipped down my cheeks. God, as cathartic as that felt to let out my frustration, it didn't solve the problem.
As soon as he got me seated again, Darryl ran into the kitchen and brought me a glass of water. He sat down beside me and helped me drink, although water trickled down my chin.
Becca crossed her arms. "Malcolm, maybe we should talk about this later. What with Daphne—"
"I'm pregnant, not fucking incompetent to carry on a conversation." I sighed and laid my head back against the softness of the couch.
Becca gasped, and one of the guys groaned.
"You're what?" Drake yelled.
I squeezed my eyes shut, realizing my mistake. I laid my hand on my belly that was far from showing. I felt snarky all of a sudden and laughed. "Pregnant, Drake. Expecting. Bun in the oven. Knocked up. I'm having a baby."
"I know what it means." Drake grunted. "I suppose this is your lover..."
Before I could even react, I heard a loud smack. I opened my eyes to see Drake stumbling back into the chair he had previously vacated. Malcolm was clenching and releasing the fingers on his right hand.
"Fuck you, Drake!" Becca turned to her husband and gasped. "You're bleeding!"
"It'll heal," Malcolm mumbled. He stepped closer to where Drake was slouched in the chair and leaned over him. "Maybe if you had spent more time at home with your wife and actually talked to her, you would have found out the right way that you're going to be a father. You're a real piece of shit, you know that?"
"It can't be mine, we always use protection," Drake said, his voice softer but still gravelly. He worked his jaw for a moment, his hand pressed to his face.
"Trust me, Drake, it's yours. Darryl is not my lover. We just met yesterday." My voice was shaky, and I felt impending tears in my eyes. I hadn't imagined he would accuse me of cheating on him. "I haven't been with anyone since I met you."
Drake shook his head. "Not possible."
I snorted this time. "Do you remember Blake's bachelor party?"
He blinked at me.
"Of course, you wouldn't. You came home at least three sheets to the wind. And quite randy. You were in such a hurry; you forgot the condom."
Drake was no longer looking at me...or anyone for that fact. He was leaning over, his head in his hands. His voice was barely audible. "Why didn't you remind me? You know I—"
"Yeah, I know what you like. How about what I like? Did you ever think I might want to feel my husband's cock inside of me for once without that damn piece of rubber? I thought we were done with protection once we got married. I understood it before then. But insisting on it after, too? Do you have any idea how horrible that makes me feel? How you couldn't even make love to me on our wedding night without stopping each time to get a new condom? Way to kill the mood. Why the fuck would I stop you and tell you to cover up?"
There was a cough, and I noticed Becca was looking up at the ceiling.
"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Becca."
She waved her hand. "Don't worry about me. It's not the first intimate conversation I've had with or about my brother."
"I hate to interrupt this bonding experience, but I think that we've established that the baby is Drake's," Malcolm said.
Darryl glanced at me, and I nodded that he was free to speak up. "I know I don't know the two of you well at all—and I'm no therapist—but I would like to say something I've observed from talking to Daphne yesterday and from listening today. There's something deeper going on here."
"Like Jimmy?" Becca asked.
"No, well yes. Jimmy is an issue, and the two of you will have to deal with that at some point. But like we said last night, this is far bigger than Jimmy. Even more than the collaring ceremony you had. This started before that. But I think the only person who knows when that was is Drake."
We all turned to my husband, who still was hunched over.
"Something had to have happened," Darryl continued. "Something you couldn't share with Daphne. Because according to her, your behavior changed after you got married, and she doesn't know why. You moved away suddenly. Wanted the intensive 24/7 living. You secluded yourself from everyone. Not to mention the secret meetings with the guy you knew was her abusive ex-boyfriend. Like I said, I'm not a therapist. But I've been around enough abused couples in the lifestyle to know that unless you confront the main issue, you can't move forwar
d. You can't fix what is broken here."
I don't know what I was expecting to happen, but hearing Drake cry was not it.
That sound made my heart feel like it was being twisted inside of me. I had caused this. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Malcolm was kneeling in front of me.
"Don't you dare blame yourself, Daphne. I know you."
I clamped my mouth shut, clenching my eyes against my own tears.
"Drake?" Becca's voice was so soft.
I opened my eyes to see her kneeling beside her brother. She was trying to pry his hands from his face.
"I'm sorry, Becca." Drake took a deep, shuddering breath. "I shouldn't have forced you to attend the ceremony. I should have asked you. Tried to understand—"
"I don't care about the damn collaring ceremony, you doofus." She sat down on the floor and held one of his hands. I could hear her sniffling, struggling with tears as well. "What I do care about is you. And Daphne. What the hell is going on?"
Drake lifted his head finally and stared right at me. As if no one else was there. "I'm sorry."
I almost rushed to his side. I should have been where Becca was. But I couldn't move. Because there was something in his tone that indicated it was safer for both of us to stay right where we were.
"What exactly are you apologizing for?"
"I had told you I slept with someone else last year."
My chest tightened. I'd tried to forget. "Yes, I know."
"I know you didn't want to hear the details before. But you need to. Or rather, I need to say them."
I swallowed what felt like a stone in my throat. I'd forgiven him for this indiscretion, as much as it had hurt me to hear about it.
CHAPTER NINE
His timing for that confession could have been better...it was just a few days before we tied the knot. I'd been appreciative he'd told me but still a little apprehensive. I'd thought maybe he'd cheated because he was unable to tell me he wanted to break off our engagement. He'd insisted that the answer was no. He'd just wanted to clear the air between us.
My husband blinked, his eyes glossy now. "I haven't been entirely honest with you."
I pressed my hand to my head. As I'd said the night before, with Drake and I, our past was in our past. We chose to focus on the present. But I would be lying if I said I didn't want to know now.
My stomach churned, and I knew it wasn't morning sickness. I heard myself saying the words aloud. "Was it more than the one time?"
"No. That part was true. I mean I wasn't honest about when it happened." He leaned forward, almost putting his head between his knees, so that he was no longer looking at me. "Why we had to move."
I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable.
What sordid tale would Drake tell? A female supervisor who had seduced and blackmailed him? Or a jaded ex-lover who'd returned to try to win him back? Maybe it was a crazy stranger at the erotic club in Chicago who had been stalking him?
All immature—and not exactly valid—reasons, in my opinion, to tuck his tail and run to another state.
Drake still wouldn't look up at me. "Do you remember my bachelor party?"
"Yes."
I recalled that he'd refused Malcolm's offer to go out and celebrate that rite of passage. Just as I had when Becca asked me. But his coworkers had insisted. They'd surprised him. I'd assumed it had just been a bunch of grown men drinking beer. No harm done except a few hangovers.
I snorted softly. Yeah, like I was one to talk. Look how my impromptu, belated party had turned out.
"It was just supposed to be wings and beer at a sports bar after work," Drake elaborated. "We were supposed to go back to Brad's house for cards. But they took me to a strip club instead. And then a night club. I had too much to drink."
I swallowed heavily. I'd upbraided him at the time for being out all night without calling me. He hadn't wanted to have sex for a couple of days after that. Gave no explanation why. It hadn't been like him. But I'd chalked it up to wedding jitters and pushed it out of my memory. Until now.
That sick feeling was working its way up from my stomach.
"I woke up the next morning in a strange bed. With a blonde." He waved his hand absentmindedly as if that explained what they were doing there. Like I had to guess. "I had vague memories of strippers, drinking, and dancing. Just no recollection of coming home with her."
Darryl cleared his throat. "Are you sure you—"
"Oh, yeah." Drake was shook his head. I wondered if he was trying to erase the memory, like you did with an Etch A Sketch. "Even if we hadn't done anything the night before, she was on top of me—"
"We get it," Becca said, her voice more snarl than not.
I couldn't breathe. I did the math. He'd cheated on me three weeks before we'd gotten married?
He finally looked up, but he lowered his head almost immediately once his gaze locked with mine. Had he seen the fire raging in my eyes? He opened his mouth but closed it again.
"Spit it out, Drake." I hissed my own words at him, wondering if they'd used protection. "No more secrets, right?"
Malcolm snorted. "Unless you got her pregnant—"
"She claimed I did."
Oh, God. My chest was on fire.
"She told me at the dinner party."
"She was there?" I was on my feet now.
Mr. Murdoch, his boss and the CEO of the company, had thrown a surprise dinner party for our wedding. Very elaborate. Regal, even. I'd enjoyed the temporary pampering. But now...
He nodded. "Brooke—"
"Wait!" I pressed my hand to my breastbone. Was the room spinning? "As in Brooke Murdoch? You drunk-fucked your boss's step-daughter?"
Drake seemed to shrink further into the seat of his chair as I attempted a wobbly step toward him. "I didn't know who she was at the time. I just found out that night."
"She gave me the Tiffany bracelet I used as my 'something blue.' God dammit, Drake! You should have told me!"
"I know! I know!"
The room was quiet for a long moment. I tried to catch my breath. To collect my thoughts.
I managed another step forward, ignoring Darryl's raised hand as if he were signaling me to proceed with caution. "I get that you cheated on me. I don't have to like it, but it happened. We can't change that. And in a strange way, I can see how your guilt made you so paranoid you tried to prevent even me from getting pregnant. But, Drake, there is something I just don't understand."
He snapped his head up. "What?"
"Why the fuck did we move?"
He flinched at my growl. Licked his lips a couple of times.
"Mr. Murdoch confronted me the Monday morning after the party. Brooke had told him about us. He threatened to fire me when I said I wouldn't support her. I countered that I'd sue for wrongful termination. There was a lot of yelling. Accusations and threats. In the end, we agreed I would stay on but transfer out west. If the baby was mine, my raise would cover child support. If not, it would be compensation for my troubles. Any embarrassment."
He'd told me about his promotion that night at dinner. Our need to move. I hadn't thought I could be in more shock. Then he'd come clean about his infidelity. I had been devastated, to put it mildly. But he'd apologized and I'd forgiven him.
All this time, though, I'd expected it had been something he'd been mulling over for months. A year even. Not a few weeks.
He hadn't explained any further last winter, just that the transfer was good news for us. That he knew it would be hard for me to relocate, but we'd be together and we could manage. Plus we'd always have Malcolm and Becca to support us, no matter where we were.
So many lies. When would it end? I stumbled back and reached blindly for something to hold onto. My hand connected with Darryl's, and I swayed for a moment.
"What was the result?" Malcolm said.
Drake looked up him, at me, then at Malcolm again, his eyebrows furrowed as if in confusion.
My brother-in-law sighed loudly. "The patern
ity test? I assume you had one?"
"It wasn't mine."
My legs gave out then. The cushion let out a soft whoosh as I landed heavily on the couch. I closed my eyes, silently thanking God for small miracles. But my relief was short-lived as my eyes snapped open at a new thought. "Jimmy. How does he play into any of this?"
Drake had his head in his hands again. "It wasn't planned."
Despite the gravity of the situation, I laughed. "Oh, with Jimmy, there is always a plan. Trust me."
"I was having drinks with an old friend from college I'd run into a few months after we moved. I don't remember how we got on the subject of dominance, but he said he knew someone who could use my help and gave me a business card. The guy turned out to be a producer who needed expertise on Dominance and submission for an adult film."
"Oh, God!" I pressed my fist to my mouth. This was not happening.
"One movie turned into two, then three. And well, you know..." Drake stood up suddenly and walked over to the fireplace, his path unhindered this time. He faced away from us, both hands on the mantle. I could see his shoulders shaking as he lowered his head.
Malcolm was still standing beside the chair Drake had vacated. He'd had his arms crossed across his chest, but he shifted to put a hand on Becca's head as she scooted over to sit at his feet. It had probably been intuitive on both of their parts, but the symbolism was not lost on me. A true, loving Dom protecting his sub who was seeking comfort. And then there was Drake and I. Drifting further apart each passing second. I was ashamed to say I didn't know the man before me.
"I met JD—Jimmy—on one of the sets," Drake said, his back still to the rest of the room although he'd straightened up.
Becca gasped, and I saw her staring slack-jawed at her brother. "Please tell me you—"
"No, I just consult. Off camera. Jimmy acts, though. From the first time I saw him, I could tell he had a lot more experience than the other guys put together. He never needed my help. When I mentioned this to him, he told me he'd been involved in the lifestyle for many years. Longer than he'd been in the film industry. It was strange, but we connected. It was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of."
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