Echo of Redemption (24 page)

“Nothing so dramatic,” I lie. “Our ménage is fine, thank you for asking.”

“Well, it should be interesting when he gets back. That’s all I have to say. Interesting. Um-hmm.” She kisses both of my cheeks before turning to walk to her car, and I try to not give her comments any thought. I do not want Thomas supporting this insanity.

Once I am buckled in beside Kitten and preparing to pull away from the curb, she says, “You’re mad at me again.”

I put the car back into park. “You left the club without asking permission.”

“You were supposed to go
with me
to this meeting. It’s on the calendar.”

I really don’t like her tone but then she looks at me, her eyes filled with tears, and although she doesn’t say another word, I can read the accusation in the lines around her eyes.
You promised.

I want to apologize, but don’t want to appear weak. She’s already trampling my authority. Trying to sound enthusiastic, I announce, “I hired Matthew Farris and four other Dominants. That should lighten the burden on me, give us more time together.”

She doesn’t comment.

“How would you like to skip the club tonight?”

She shakes her head. “You know I don’t like being stuck at home alone.”

I squeeze her fingers. “I’m saying I would like for us to spend an evening alone together. Name the restaurant, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“I already ate.”

Leaning over, I kiss her cheek. “We could go home, snuggle on the sofa, watch a movie.”

She nuzzles back, caressing my cheek with hers, whispering, “You could hurt me.”

“Ah, no.” Leaning back, I shift the car into drive and pull away from the curb. “Be happy with your servitude during your pregnancy, Kitten. There will be plenty of time for play after the babies are born.”

“But the other night—”

“Doesn’t change anything.” Dead silence falls over the car as I leave the building’s parking lot and pull into traffic. I can feel her simmering beside me. She doesn’t have to say it out loud that Lord Fyre would play with her for me to know what she’s thinking.

Several miles later she demands, “You expect me to wait four months?”

Why does everything have to be an argument?
I don’t answer.

With a huff, she wraps herself into her arms. “Fine, let’s go home, but I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to tell you
all
about the Primal Birth class and how excited I am about creating a birthing nest and surrounding myself with people who will love and support my decision for a natural birth.” She punctuates that she knows this is a thorny issue for me by adding, emphatically, “Outside, in nature.”

I grind my teeth, trying very hard to not lose it.
Damn Jackie
.

“There is a woman I met tonight who sings birthing chants. I think I’m going to hire her to assist with my birth. She sang and drummed for us. It was the most wondrous thing.”

At a red light I turn in my seat to make certain she sees in my glare that I am not wavering on this. “I am your master, you are my slave. I will not hear another word about any of this. Do. You. Understand?”

She doesn’t answer. A second later she bursts into tears, and I don’t have the mental or physical energy to do anything except drive us to the penthouse.

“All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty.”

L. Frank Baum,
The Wizard of Oz

Kitten

Time absolutely drags when you’re miserable, and with Master sleeping in the guest bedroom each night I am nothing but miserable. I spend so much time alone, I hardly feel like I’m in a relationship, let alone a ménage.

Garrett is awake and has been for some time.

Thud.

The sound of a bar of soap hitting porcelain draws my thoughts to Master once more. Closing my eyes, I listen to the shower spray, imaging the water hitting his body. His skin will be flushed pink, he will smell of his scent:
Ocean Breeze: A Bay Spa Luxuriant.

The furnace kicks on and air whistles through the vent. We’re having an unusually cold winter, and I hate the thought of climbing out from under the quilt to go outside. If we hadn’t had such a horrible last night, I might beg off. Lord knows my eyes are probably so puffy, I would be better off not going. No amount of makeup can cover up red-rimmed, cried out eyes.

Has it really been two weeks since I saw that horrible, judgmental obstetrician? The date on the calendar says it has because I’m supposed to see him again tomorrow and I don’t want to go. It seems I’ve been counting each day with the dread of one on death row and the time has flown.

At least I have tonight. Maybe I can cause some havoc at the club. It’s been a long time since I’ve sat in the middle of a table and given myself a tongue bath…

Maybe Jackie will be there, though since Valentine’s Day and the appearance of a new man in her life it seems she’s been spending less and less time at The Oasis.

Rolling over, I look at the small clock on the bedside table. Five-ten. The time when most of the city is battling rush hour traffic and I am just waking. Master has allowed me to sleep in. Maybe he has no intention of taking me to the club tonight.

Defeated, I flop back onto my back, feeling when I do so a bubble of hot liquid spill out of me.
Oh
,
no!
I didn’t feel like I even had to pee, but one of the babies must have hit my bladder just perfectly.

Embarrassed, I hurry to the bathroom.

Garrett doesn’t comment when I barge in and plop down on the toilet, it’s been a normal enough occurrence of late. It takes a moment for me to realize the red stain on the inside of my thighs is blood.

“Master!” I scream and can’t stop screaming. This is the worst of my fears realized.

He pushes open the glass door and sees immediately what is wrong.

“I’m bleeding! I’m not supposed to be bleeding.”

He reacts, wrapping in a towel but not drying off. Dripping wet, he carries me back to bed, puts pillows under my knees and feet. “Try to relax. Lay here while I call the doctor.”

How can I relax? Sobbing hysterically, I cry over and over, “God doesn’t want me to be a mother.”
Oh God,
o
h God,
o
h God.
I can’t breathe, I can’t think. There is no summoning a prayer. What would I say? What promise would I make?

“God!” I scream. “Don’t do this!”

“To-day we love what to-morrow we hate; to-day we seek what to-morrow we shun; to-day we desire what to-morrow we fear.”

Daniel Defoe,
Robinson Crusoe

Garrett

“I’m going to take a look.” Quickly I assess that she isn’t hemorrhaging. Kissing her forehead, I explain, “There’s only a little blood, so you need to calm down and try to relax.” I kiss her forehead again. “I’m calling the doctor now.”

I leave her alone in the bedroom. I speed dial the doctor on my cell and hurry through the penthouse to rouse Enrique. He is watching a talk show on the small television in his bedroom. “Kitten is in bed. Go stay with her while I call the doctor. Do not let her get out of bed.”

Eyes wide, he doesn’t ask questions, he just hurries to obey. I suck in a deep breath as my call is answered, then hurry to explain the situation. It turns out the woman answering the phone is only part of a physician’s answering service. “If this is an emergency you should go to the nearest hospital.”

“I need you to contact Doctor Moran and tell him to call me immediately.”

“I’m sorry, that isn’t possible. Doctor Moran is unavailable. The obstetrician on call—”

The noise from the bedroom is getting louder with Kitten taking the worst of her fears out on Enrique. I can hear him begging her to calm down and relax. Angry, I hang up on the answering service and call the lifestyle acquaintance who recommended his wife’s obstetrician. He answers on the fourth ring. “John, Garrett. I need Doctor Moran’s cell number. It’s urgent I talk to him.”

John informs me that the doctor doesn’t give out his personal number.

“What?” If I was livid with the answering service I am moreso now.

“He should have one of his partners covering his calls. Did you leave a message with the service?”

I hang up on John. Rude? Sure. Do I care at the moment? No. I’m irate as I hurry back through the living room to the bedroom. Enrique is holding Kitten’s hand and singing to her softly. For the moment she isn’t screaming, which is a huge improvement.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I run my hand over her stomach. “I want you to focus, Kitten. Tell me the last time you felt movement.”

She is pale and scared but she meets my gaze. “When I woke up.”

“Okay, that’s good. That’s been within the last hour. Have you felt them move since you returned to bed?”

Her face crumbles. “I don’t know.”

“Relax.” I prod her baby bump lightly. “Does that hurt at all?”

“No,” she answers, then adds with hope filling her voice, “One of them just moved.”

“Good, that’s good,” I assure her. “Concentrate on feeling them while I make another phone call.”

Closing her eyes, she rubs her hands over her belly. Enrique keeps singing softly. She is much calmer as I speed dial George. This time I don’t leave the room, I only walk to the far side of it and look out the window while the phone is ringing. The sky is dark and rain is falling. Softly I explain the situation and am slightly annoyed when he repeats everything I explain, saying, “Celia’s bleeding but has confirmed she can feel fetal movement. Her obstetrician is unavailable.” I understand he was relaying the information when Thomas comes on the line.

“Do not try to transport her to the hospital yet. I’ll have the obstetrician Lattie used come there immediately. It will be faster.”

Twenty minutes later, Thomas and Dr. Wang are both standing in my bedroom. Thomas, Enrique and I step out of the room while he examines her. Enrique immediately moves a respectable distance away, close enough for him to hear us if we need anything but far enough that he doesn’t hear our every word.

“I’m surprised you waited and we’re not at a hospital right now.”

“I guess I felt that if there is any chance she might not lose them the less she moves around the better.”

I’m surprised when Thomas sits down hard, looking slightly pale.

“Are you all right?”

He nods but closes his eyes, and I realize if anything happens to the twins he’s going to be absolutely devastated. It makes me wonder not for the first time how he is managing being away from his children. Home and family have always been the core of his universe.

We sit in silence, waiting, and it is the longest twenty minutes of my life. When the doctor appears, he doesn’t look outwardly concerned. He smiles when both Thomas and I stand.

“She is fine for now. Both babies’ hearts beat strong. I suspect a mild placental abruption. I think the best course of action is to wait and see how this progresses with complete bed rest. I do not believe that it will be the case, but if she would start bleeding heavily, arrange transportation to the hospital. I will put in an order for a mobile ultrasound immediately and based on their findings will reevaluate every other day. I will also have an obstetric nurse come by three times a day to monitor any changes. Does that seem satisfactory?”

Overwhelmed and relieved, I shake his hand. “Thank you, Doctor Wang.”

Thomas sees him out but returns quickly and together we go in to sit with Kitten. She is lying back with her feet still propped up. She looks terrified, if not miserable. I am surprised when Thomas tells her he has to leave again but promises to return as soon as he can. She is heartbroken. After he leaves, I scoot onto the bed with her. “Is there anything I can do?”

She shakes her head and starts to cry. “This is my fault. I’m selfish and unworthy.”

I quote statistics. “One in a hundred women experience placental bleeding at some point during their second or third trimester.”

“Is that what is happening? My placenta is separating?” she asks frantically.

Crap. I said the wrong thing.

“Shh, I know it sounds scary, but as long as it is a tiny separation—which by the small amount of blood is the indication—it will clot and all will be fine. You will even be allowed out of bed in a few days.”

“What if it isn’t a small tear? What if my placenta really unattaches?”

“That would be more serious.”

“The babies would die. They’re too small.”

I want to reassure her but knowing she is only twenty-two weeks and still underweight, I don’t want to give her false hope. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“Can I use your phone? I want to call Jackie.”

“What? No. You need to rest.”

She remains adamant. “Please? I want her here. With me. She said she would come, day or night, if I needed her to.”

With a heavy sigh, I relent and hand her the phone, knowing as soon as she starts recanting what has happened in minute by minute detail that I won’t be needed for a while. I head for the kitchen to make her a cup of tea, using a selection of calming herbs, and am not surprised when the doorbell sounds. “Christ, Jackie.” Except it isn’t Jackie, as promised an ultrasound technician has arrived. It’s almost eight and I really hadn’t expected anyone until morning, but I’m glad he’s here.

“When I speak of home, I speak of the place where—in default of a better—those I love are gathered together; and if that place were a gypsy’s tent, or a barn, I should call it by the same good name notwithstanding.”

Charles Dickens,
Nicholas Nickleby

Thomas

Without thinking about it too much, I go to George’s and corner my brother. “You are a problem. Doctor Psycho feels it would be unsafe for the Bay Area to release you into its midst, and I have promised you won’t go around killing people if we allow you to live on your own.”