Raw Ch. 07

"And I accept this leash from you, Lady Daphne. It symbolizes the surrender of your will to mine and the guidance I promise to give you in our life together."

Drake hooked the leash to the ring on Daphne's collar. She bowed before him and pressed her face to his feet. When she sat up with her chin tucked, he placed a hand on her head.

"Two weeks ago, Lady Daphne, you honored me by becoming my wife. Tonight, you have completed me by becoming the partner that we have both dreamed about. Thank you."

He helped Daphne to her feet and kissed her. Together, they faced the crowd. Applause and whistles resounded in the vast, open room. As Drake and Daphne descended from the stage, he held the loop of the leash in his hand. She walked slightly behind him with her head bowed.

Malcolm stood and led me down the stairs. I kept my head up tall and walked beside my boyfriend. My other hand was shaking at my side. How I didn't stumble, I'll never know. When we reached the end of the aisle, and my brother and sister-in-law finally turned in our direction, Malcolm let go of my hand to approach Drake.

I took the chance and bolted, grabbing my jacket and purse on the way. I heard Malcolm yell, "Shit!" as I raced across the remaining half of the dance floor in a beeline towards the exit. I made it as far as the bar before they caught up with me.

"Becca, stop!" Drake called behind me in that same demanding tone he'd used in the hallway to make Daphne...well...heel. It was a fitting word for the situation.

Someone grabbed my arm, and I raised my other hand as I turned around. I heard a loud crack as my open palm made contact with a face. I saw the red mark on Drake's cheek as his eyes widened.

"Don't touch me!" I yanked away from his reach, ignoring the lingering sting in my hand. I glared at my brother, at Daphne. "And don't you dare tell me what to do! How could you? After everything..."

Suddenly, my chest was on fire, and I had to grip the edge of the bar for support. Malcolm was by my side. I felt him more than saw him as I had doubled over on a barstool. My view consisted of the chrome façade of the bar—which glowed blue from a neon ropelight along the underside of the bar top that I could see all-too-well from that position—and several bright stars. I closed my eyes and reopened them, but the stars were still there. Possibly more of them.

"Becca, are you okay?" Malcolm said, his voice cracking.

I shook my head and tried to drag in more air with deep breaths. That only made it worse. My left arm felt numb, and when I tried to grab it with my right hand, I started falling.

The next thing I knew, I was laying flat on my back. Malcolm held my hand as one EMT strapped me to a gurney while another asked questions about what had happened. Multiple voices tried to answer at once. I wished they would all just shut up so the pounding in my head would dissipate. I would have said it out loud, but I was afraid I was going to throw up, and I had an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. Oh, what a night.

###

I lay on my right side, staring at the avocado-green drapes that had been pulled across the big picture window of my hospital room. I could inhale and exhale without too much pain now. I could feel my left arm again, too. Especially where the nurse had jabbed me with a needle to start an IV.

There was a knock, and I heard the soft whooshing sound the big door made as it opened and closed. I'd heard it at least a dozen times since I'd been brought up from the emergency room because the doctor wanted to keep me for observation. The door opening usually resulted in a night nurse coming to check my vitals to make sure I was still alive. How anyone ever recuperated in a hospital with being poked and prodded every fifteen minutes was beyond me.

"Becca?" Malcolm's voice came from behind me. I smiled at the welcome sound and started to roll onto my back to greet him.

"She's sleeping," Drake answered, which made me freeze.

He had dragged a chair to the side of my bed at least an hour ago, which had woken me from the few winks I'd been able to catch. I'd heard the whooshing door since then and silence after that, so I thought he'd left. I had been too exhausted to roll over to check, though, so I just stared at the curtain, thinking.

"Is she going to be okay?" Malcolm's voice was closer, quieter.

"Yep. Just a little anxiety. Nothing serious." He seemed very short with my boyfriend. Almost as if he believed I'd intentionally caused a stir and there was nothing to be concerned about.

If I was such a nuisance—ruining his first night with a slave for a wife—and he wasn't concerned, why was he still here?

"A panic attack?" Malcolm let out a deep breath, and I imagined him running his hand back through his hair. "I was so sure—"

"She's fine," Drake snapped.

"Lose the attitude. There's no one here you need to impress."

"I'm her brother. I'm allowed to stay. You are not family."

"Yeah, you are her brother. Which means you should have thought about her feelings before putting her in this predicament. She's here because of you!"

A chair scraped the floor. "I'm not asking you to leave. I'm telling you!"

"I will leave, Drake. But first, you need to listen. And listen good. Becca adores you. She always has."

"I know that."

"No, you don't. If you really did, we would still be at that club saying our goodbyes and she'd still be in the dark, which is safer sometimes. You were her anchor when she entered this lifestyle. She already had you on a pedestal. Knowing you're an experienced Dominant just ratcheted you up a few more feet. She had someone to go to, to confide in. It put a sense of pride in her for you. But you've only let her see what you want her to see of your own world. You've kept the most important parts of who you are shut away from her."

"What's your point?"

I tried to keep my breathing even as I listened lest they realize I was awake and stopped talking.

"We both know that our vanilla lives are intertwined with our kinky ones. We're in so deep it's almost impossible to separate them. Decisions we make in one affect the other without us even realizing it. I know your decision tonight was not made lightly. And I'm not saying it was the wrong decision—that's completely between you and Daphne. But forcing Becca to be involved? Did you even think how it would affect her knowing what she's been through this year?"

"She'll get over it. She's an adult."

"Maybe. But that pedestal? You knocked it over all by yourself when you expected her to be there merely because she was your sister. That decision? It showed her that you're not the brother she thought she knew. That what really mattered most was your own feelings because when it all boils down, you are a Master, and she is a submissive. Your true colors came out tonight, and she wasn't prepared for it. I was foolish to make her stand there and pretend to support something she doesn't believe in. But you're the bigger fool for knowingly crushing your little sister's heart."

There were footsteps and the sound of the whooshing door as Malcolm left. A thud and scrape as Drake sat down so heavily, the chair moved. He sighed deeply, and then it was silent.

Hot tears coated my cheeks, wetting my pillow. My heart ached. Every word Malcolm had spoken was true. I couldn't have said it better myself. That is, if I'd had the courage to confront my brother. Had he always been so selfish, or had something changed in the past couple of years to make him that callous?

It was getting uncomfortable, lying on my side for so long and not being asleep. I considered pretending to wake up, but the conversation had drained me emotionally. Hell, the whole night had. So I just rolled onto my back and let out a shuddering breath. And almost had a real heart attack.

"You're awake!" Malcolm pulled me into his arms, his heart thumping wildly against my ear.

I buried my face against his chest. The masculine scent of him—his sandalwood cologne and sweat and remnants of sex—filled my head as I inhaled. "You're here!"

"Yes. Drake just left." His lips pressed to my head. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it."

His sigh was ragged. "I expected him to defend himself. To put up a fight. But he just looked at you and walked out. I'm so sorry."

Nestled between Malcolm's arm and his warm body as he brushed my hair from my forehead over and over again, I closed my eyes. A tear trickled down my cheek as I whispered, "I am, too."

###

Christmas arrived, but Drake and Daphne did not.

My mother had received a card with a note expressing their regret that they wouldn't be able to make it back this year as they were still trying to settle into their new house and new jobs. How had I not seen that coming?

When she asked me if I had gotten a card from them, I lied. I wasn't going to tell her we'd had a fight over preferences in sexual relationships and Drake was ignoring me. I wondered if he'd even opened the card I sent him, or if it had just been thrown away?

It was pretty much a given that New Year's was out now. I didn't care if I ever saw him again. Sibling rivalry at its finest. Someone should take a flogger to the both of us.

Malcolm and I spent Christmas Day at our house with my mother. She was so elated to find out she didn't have to cook the turkey this year. But she couldn't help fussing from her seat at the breakfast counter as we prepared the meal. I guess old habits died hard.

Alexander and Cameron joined us in the evening after visiting with her family. I stood in kitchen, the knife hovering over the pecan pie they'd brought, and watched them chatting in the living room with Malcolm and my mother. I felt a pang in my chest realizing that this Christmas marked ten years without my father for the holidays. And now, the first without my eldest brother. Was this a glimpse of what was to come?

Over the next five days, I corralled myself in my home-office, intent on hammering out another chapter. Sue called on the morning of New Year's Eve, and we talked at length about what I had sent her the day before. She'd found three timeline errors, two places where the wrong character's name was used, and a slew of typos. She chastised me for not being more focused, which, of course, made her ask if everything was okay because it wasn't like me to give her shoddy work.

I had never revealed my own sexual proclivities to her, despite the direction my latest series was heading. It was difficult to not give away too much personal information and yet let her know why I was so distracted. We were very close, despite being in a business relationship. For years, she was the only real friend I had, mostly because she knew my deepest, darkest secret: I was Drake Alexander. So little did she know.

In the end, I ended up telling her I was still trying to get over my brother moving out of state after he had been nearby my whole life. It was a partial truth, and she seemed to buy it. Or at least she gave me the impression that she had.

I hung up the phone and stared at the screen on my laptop. While I was contemplating whether or not I wanted to work on making corrections now or procrastinate until tomorrow, Malcolm came in and sat down in the oversized chair. His hair had that wet look to it like he'd just taken a shower.

"Everything okay?"

"Yep." I closed the lid on the laptop and crossed my arms on the desktop, resting my chin on top.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "She says, 'Yes,' but her body says, 'No.' Now what should I believe?"

I cracked a smile. "I swear I've heard that line before. But it was in the reverse. And probably came from a guy who couldn't decide if he was getting laid that night."

Malcolm chuckled. "Do I have to worry about that?"

"Not at all." I stood up and moved to sit on his lap.

"Well, that's good. Because it is New Year's Eve." He gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Feel like going into the city?"

My gut reaction was to groan and decline. But we hadn't been out in over a month, and he would be going back to work next week. I had better seize the opportunity while I could.

"Sure. Do you want to crash at my place?"

"Already counting on it. I was thinking of leaving the car there and taking a taxi to dinner."

"Let me get cleaned up, but I can change once we get there."

He gave me another kiss and then shooed me off to take a shower of my own. I was a little disappointed that he hadn't planned on joining me. But I let it slide. I always got a little giddy about spending New Year's Eve in the city.

A few hours later, we were getting into a cab outside my condo. I gave Malcolm a sideways glance when he told the driver to take us to the Hancock building. And I still didn't say anything when we entered the special elevator for the Signature Room on the 95th floor.

In all of my years living in the city, I had never been to the elegant restaurant with a 360-degree view of Chicago. I couldn't think of a better place to spend the last night of the year. Or a better person to spend it with.

The place was very crowded, and from the chatter around us as we took our seats, I discovered that reservations were in high demand. Someone said it was $100 apiece for the time we were eating, however a second seating after eight o'clock cost $225 and included an additional course for dinner with dancing and a balloon drop at midnight. I tried not to be disappointed that we wouldn't be hanging around for that.

After the first of three courses, I took advantage of the down time and wandered around to see my city from the seventh tallest skyscraper in the world according to the information I'd read online using my iPhone. It was breathtaking. I could think of no other word to describe it.

We were treated to a live band while we ate the rest of our meal and sipped champagne. My watch showed it was barely half-past-eight by the time a cab dropped us off at my condo. I was hoping we would be going somewhere else to ring in the new year. The night was still early, but I was grateful for the peace and quiet as we walked in the front door to a warm foyer. God bless Malcolm for remembering to turn on the heat!

All in all, it had been a special night. And now that I was home, I had to admit that I was actually a little tired. I sighed as I removed my heels. Shoes in hand, I started up the stairs intent on changing into something more comfortable. Maybe even crawling under the covers for a little end-of-the-year nooky before drifting off to dreamland. But Malcolm took my free hand.

"Come into the living room?"

I raised an eyebrow and let him lead me. The room was dark except for the sparkling white lights of the Christmas tree. He stopped us in front of the tree, my hand still in his.

"I'm glad you had the courage to wear that dress again. You look absolutely stunning in it."

My cheeks burned as I glanced down at the blue, velvet dress overlaid with lace. The same dress I'd worn on my first date with Brian. I'd been able to stop associating the dress with him and had pulled it out of the back of the closet earlier in the month to get it dry-cleaned. I'd surprised Malcolm by coming downstairs in it this evening.

"But even when you're wearing my old, stained T-shirt—or nothing at all, for that matter—I think you're stunning." His free hand slid behind my neck and pulled me close as his lips covered mine. "I love how passionate you are with everything you do. Your strength. Your compassion. Even your stubbornness. I love how you make me laugh. How you make me want to be a better person, both vanilla and kinky."

I sucked in my breath and took a step back from him. "Malcolm—"

"Shh, I'm not done yet." He knelt down suddenly and held up a black box. "I love you, Rebecca Rockland. Or Drake Alexander. Or Lady Becca. I love all of your personalities. Would you do me the honor of being my partner for the rest of my life?"

My knees wobbled as he opened the box and a teardrop-shaped diamond battled with the tree for brightness. It was gorgeous, and my hand shook as I instinctively reached out to touch the ring. I don't know what came over me, but I said, "I didn't hear the words."

"Fine." Malcolm closed the box and started to stand up.

"No! Wait!" Oh, my God, I was going to have another panic attack. I was going be spending New Year's in the damn hospital.

He shook his head, his mouth curling up. He went back down on one knee, presented the open ring box again, and cleared his throat. "Will you marry me, Becca?"

In all of my dreams of this moment, I was so ladylike. Not crying or jumping up and down but just giving a romantic, "Yes!" Reality rarely matches one's expectations. The truth is, I couldn't nod fast enough, and when I opened my mouth, what came out this time was, "Uh-huh."

I guess it counted because he slid the ring on my finger. Then he gathered me up in his arms, smothering me with kisses. By the time I could breathe again, I felt his cock pressing against my thigh through the layers of his slacks and my dress.

"Please, Sir, make love to me until next year?" I breathed in his ear. I could see the clock on the mantle over his shoulder, and we still had three hours left.

"Absolutely. I hope you're wearing stockings under that dress," he said, his hand cinching up the material covering my ass. "And nothing else."

I broke free and raced to the foyer, shrieking as he bounded up the stairs after me. "You will just have to catch me to find out!"

~ H