With a tone that brooked no discussion, she looked straight at Beth. “Say your goodbyes while I go get what I need to redress that. It won’t take me more than two minutes.”
Turning on her heel, she stalked out of the room. The two friends were left with a heavy silence between them.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to upset you.” A stiff formality remained in Beth’s posture and voice.
“He didn’t beat me, Beth. It’s not what you think.”
“Fine. He didn’t beat you. You got those bruises from falling down the stairs. Think up some more good lies, Sarah. I’ve got to go to work.” With a vengeance, Beth pushed the chair back into the corner and gathered up her jacket and purse.
“Beth, don’t be like that.” Sarah watched, feeling helpless. A headache pounded in her skull and she found it difficult to focus. “Beth?”
Halfway to the door, Beth stopped, turned around and came over to her bad side. “Sarah, I don’t know why you’re protecting him, but know I will protect you. You’re my friend and I support you.”
“Thank you, Beth. I appreciate your support. If you give me a chance, I will explain it all…” The entrance of the nurse prevented Sarah from saying more. Telling Beth about her sexual preferences was going to be hard enough, she didn’t need strangers knowing too.
“I’ll be back after work to see how you’re doing.” Beth squeezed her hand and was gone.
Sarah sighed. Why did life have to be so complicated? And where was Phillip?
“Multiple contusions, a broken clavicle, a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder.” The doctor slammed shut the metal clipboard and pulled a penlight out of his pocket, taking aim at Sarah’s eyes. “Don’t turn your head, just follow the light with your eyes,” he instructed.
Sarah did so, feeling irritated for no reason she could fathom. The little hand on the clock opposite her bed crawled toward three o’clock in the afternoon and Phillip still hadn’t come to see her. Of course, they still weren’t letting her look at herself in a mirror, either, so maybe he just didn’t want to see her when she was so ugly and bruised. Although, if they were going to get married, didn’t this fall in the “in sickness and in health” section of the marriage vows? Where was he?
“On a scale from one to ten, ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, where would you put your shoulder?”
Sarah set aside her unease about Phillip’s absence and concentrated on the doctor’s abrupt bedside manner. “About a seven, I guess. The headache is really what’s bothering me.”
“And the headache is what’s keeping you here. You have a grade three concussion.” He flipped open his chart and glanced at it. “Although you’ve kept down both clear liquids and some light food today.” He gave her an appraising look. “That’s a good sign.”
“So what does a grade three concussion mean? I’ve been sent back to grammar school?”
Jenny, her afternoon nurse, giggled, quickly stifling it when the doctor didn’t laugh. Sarah looked him over in his staid white coat, the pens protruding from his breast pocket, the stethoscope draped over his shoulders. She guessed his age to be close to her own—somewhere in his mid-thirties, maybe? If he didn’t wear the perpetual grave look, she might have considered him handsome, though she didn’t really go for the brush cut and dark-rimmed glasses. Still, if one had to choose a doctor, she guessed she’d rather have a nerd who graduated top of his class to someone suave and sophisticated and not nearly as smart.
“Your brain rides in a cushion of fluid that protects it from slamming against your skull when you trip or when you turn suddenly.” The doctor pushed his glasses more firmly up onto the bridge of his nose and continued his pedantic tone. “There are three levels to what we call concussions—the first grade occurs with a mild slap, if you will, of the brain against the bone of the skull. Second grade concussions are more of a jar against the skull, in effect bruising it, although lasting damage is rare. With a grade three, the brain has been violently slammed against the skull. The damage again is usually temporary, though the headaches are stronger and often last for quite some time.”
“So what does one do for a concussion?”
“Take two aspirin and call me in the morning.” Dr. Johns grinned, obviously enjoying his own joke.
“And what should I call you?” Sarah played along, even though her head was starting to pound just trying to take in all he was telling her.
Dr. Johns looked at her as if she’d grown a third eye. “Beg pardon?”
“You said, ‘call me in the morning’, and I said, ‘what should I call you?’ Get it? It was another joke.”
“Hmm… Yes. I see.” Obviously not seeing at all, the doctor made a note on her chart and Sarah wondered if he thought she had sustained more brain damage than the tests showed.
“Well, I think we’re going to keep you one more day. I want to watch that headache.”
“But I’m keeping my food down.” While being waited on hand and foot certainly had its attractions, Sarah didn’t really want to stay in the hospital any longer than she had to.
“But your headache still isn’t fading. One more day.” He shut the clipboard with finality.
She sighed as the doctor left the room, turning to Jenny once he was out of earshot. “A bit abrupt, isn’t he?”
“Yep. Much as I hate to admit it, though, he’s also one of the best doctors I’ve ever worked with. He’s a nerd even among the other doctors.”
Sarah laughed, then winced when the movement jarred her shoulder. “I guess I’d rather have a smart, nerdy doctor than someone who can charm the pants off me but graduated last in his class.”
Jenny adjusted the covers and helped Sarah sit more comfortably. “You do have another visitor waiting outside if you’re up for more company.”
“Is it..?” Sarah caught herself, not wanting the nurse to see how anxious she was to see Phillip, or how worried she was that he hadn’t come to visit her yet. It just wasn’t what she had expected from him. She kept her voice neutral. “I mean…is it Phillip?”
Jenny clucked her tongue in what Sarah was sure was disapproval. “No, a young woman. She was here last night. Seemed real nice. Jill, she said her name was.”
Relief flooded through her. At last! Someone who could give her real answers. “Oh, yes. Please send her in. I really need to talk to her.”
Jill came in shortly after Jenny left. Sarah thought she looked drawn and tired, a look she covered up quickly with a look of concern for Sarah.
“How’re you doin’, sweetie?” The willowy blonde came right over and gave Sarah a gentle hug.
“I’m going to be fine. The doc just left. Not much on bedside manner but good on medical advice, I hear. He’s keeping me one more day ‘cause he wants to watch my headache.”
“Another day?” Jill frowned. “I’ll let Detective Hassini know that. He’ll want to talk to you.”
“Who’s Detective Hassini?”
Jill arranged the flowers she’d brought on the windowsill so Sarah could see them. “He’s the one doing the investigation. He’s a little rough but I know his heart’s in the right place. I’m pretty sure he believes us but the hospital staff has already made statements that have him pretty concerned about you.”
“Jill, what are you talking about? Concerned about me for what? It was an accident…I think. Beth told me a little about what happened. The guy didn’t see the light and went straight on through the intersection and plowed into me. He walked away, I’m here in the hospital. What’s to investigate? Don’t they have his license and phone number and stuff?”
Jill shook her head, sitting down on the side of the bed. She picked up Sarah’s good hand and held it a moment before explaining.
“You and Phillip must’ve had one hell of a session Sunday night.”
Sarah blushed. “We did. He used the…” She paused, finding it difficult to share such an intimacy even with a fellow slave. If there was anyone who would understand, it would be Jill. Rolling her eyes at her own foolishness, she blurted it out. “He used the cane. It was the most incredible feeling I’d ever felt. Hurt, yet the orgasm afterward was…”
She had no words to describe it. Jill grinned and squeezed her hand. “I know. You feel helpless and the pain, sharp at the moment of impact, courses through every vein, even out to your fingertips. You can’t breathe and when you do, you gulp in big breaths of air as your body goes haywire. And just as you get control again and the pain eases, the cane descends again and the tension between your legs becomes almost unbearable.”
“That’s it exactly!” Sarah grinned back. “That’s exactly what it felt like. It was wonderful.” She let out air she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “I don’t think I’d like it as a daily meal but as a treat now and again? Oh, yeah…”
Jill’s face became serious. “Yeah, well…there you’ve hit the point. Sarah, when you were brought in, the doctors checked you over…all of you.”
Sarah shrugged her good shoulder. “So?”
“All over, Sarah, even your tush.”
Color seeped into Sarah’s cheeks as Jill’s words registered. “You mean…they found…”
“Three cane stripes across your ass. Yes.”
Sarah looked away. “Oh, my glory. What must they think of me?” Her eyes went wide and she pulled at the hospital gown, looking down at her breasts. Barely visible pink lines still showed against the whiteness of her skin. In panic, she looked up at Jill.
“Yep. They found those too. And the fingerprint bruises on your upper arms.”
“Fingerprint bruises?” For a moment, Sarah had no idea what her fellow slave was talking about. Then she remembered. Saturday night, when she was blindfolded and at the mercy of the hands that caressed her. One man had stepped between her spread legs, his hands tightly gripping her bound upper arms. It hadn’t been Phillip. The Master who had pressed against her had had an aura of cruelty in him. The fabric of his pants had brushed against her mound, his hardened cock taunting her. Dominance and brutality had oozed from his touch.
But then he had stepped away and hands more soothing and caressing had taken his place. In the wake of so many touches, so many sensations, she had forgotten him.
Now Sarah turned to Jill. “There was a man Saturday night who held me hard. I didn’t realize he’d given me bruises but that’s the only place I could’ve gotten them.
“Will and I decided that as well.” An explosive sigh came from her. “Look, I have no idea what Phillip has told the police. Will and I have managed to say very little so far because really it’s you who has to call the shots on this one.”
“On what one? Jill, I still don’t even know what we’re talking about.”
“You came in with marks of a beating, Sarah. Marks you couldn’t possibly have gotten in a car accident. Phillip was right there, pacing, pestering the desk nurse about you. What were they going to think?” She snorted, disgusted. “You weren’t even out of surgery when they arrested him on suspicion of domestic battery.”
Sarah sat straight up, ignoring the shooting pain that sliced through her shoulder. “Arrested? Phillip? Is that why he hasn’t been here?”
Jill looked at her like she’d grown another head. “You didn’t know?”
“How could I? I’ve been doped up and stuck to this bed.”
“But Beth was here earlier, wasn’t she? I thought that was who the nurse told me…”
“Yeah, Beth was here.” It registered and Sarah’s voice dropped. “You mean Beth knew Phillip’s sitting in jail somewhere and she didn’t tell me?”
“Beth knows Phillip was arrested on suspicion of battery, yes?” Jill shook her head. “Maybe she just didn’t think you were ready to hear the news, though.”
“I’ll be asking her that question. In the meantime, get that detective down here. I have a few choice words for him.”
Jill stood and grabbed her coat from the chair. “You got it, babe. But be warned—the police don’t look kindly on our activities. Not all of those who were there Saturday night want to be ratted out to the police.”
Sarah’s mind flashed to the man who’d gripped her arms and leaned his body so possessively against hers. That was a man who definitely wouldn’t want to be ratted out, even if it meant Phillip sat there for years. “I can tell him we played with others but remember…” Her mouth turned up in a wry grin but there was no mirth in her eyes. “I was hooded the entire night. I have no idea who was there and who wasn’t.” Although, from the look on Jill’s face, it was pretty obvious she and Will had been two of those in attendance. Sarah could make some educated guesses about the others but decided to keep that information to her herself.
The interview with the police did not go well. Sarah’s headache had blossomed and the food she’d eaten earlier roiled in her stomach. She tried to tell the nurses it was just because her fiancé had been arrested for no reason but they wouldn’t listen to her. As a result, she found it difficult to concentrate on the detective’s questions and knew her answers rambled. She remained adamant, however. There were no charges to press and they had no reason at all to keep Phillip in jail.
“I’m afraid that isn’t your call, Mrs. Simpson–Parker,” the detective informed her. “In these cases, the state can step in and make an arrest. He’s already been charged.”
Sarah stared at the middle-aged man who stood beside her bed, his staid complacency frustrating the hell out of her. A few strands of gray colored his temples but other than that, he still looked like he was a force to be reckoned with. Built like a quarterback, his sturdy frame had undoubtedly been in more than one altercation. He’d introduced himself as Detective Hassini. Sarah wondered if he were Greek or Middle Eastern. But then he’d started talking, the news just getting worse and worse as he informed her about “the man she was involved with” and Sarah decided she didn’t care what his heritage was, the man was nothing more than a block for her to beat her head against.