The Fifth Ch 11

This is the 11th part of a 12 part tale a Lady and her stable of slaves

11. Private Dancer

Deanna initially refused to be seen as a patient at the emergency room. But she was getting nowhere at the front desk trying to get information about Jared inside. She was in a contest of wills with a battleaxe of a receptionist which was beginning to turn ugly when Edward arrived with Michael and Thomas. He quickly convinced her that she had a much better chance of finding out what was going on inside as a patient. He promised her that while she was having her own wound attended to, Michael had some ideas on how to break through the privacy regulations that to this point were stymying them.

Belle accompanied her as they were led into an examination room. As they waited for a doctor, Deanna took a closer look at Belle. Her miniskirt was badly torn in front and was only being held up by a strip of elastic at the belt line. The front of her blouse was also ripped to the shoulder with several upper buttons missing so that it hung partially open. Her makeup was badly mussed and there was blood, probably Deanna's, streaked on her face and arms.

"Belle ... I'm so sorry." she broke the stillness, quietly anguished.

"You never need to apologize to me, My Lady." Belle looked down and then back up. "I'm just so worried about Jared."

"Yes. I know." Deanna agreed.

They sat in silence together. After about twenty minutes a doctor, a 3rd year ER resident physician, entered the room. He introduced himself with an air of importance.

"There was a man who was brought in by ambulance who was pretty badly hurt." Deanna impatiently broke in. "Can you tell us how he is?"

The resident looked from one to the other, noticing their disheveled state and attire, and smirked. "What, was he a john who got a little too frisky?" He then visibly shrank backwards from the glare that Deanna bore down on him.

"Ah ..." he finally recovered his voice. "I don't know much about him, he isn't my case, but I think he's down having a CAT scan. " he stammered weakly. Then trying to reestablish his professional standing he took a small step forward. "That's a real nasty looking cut you've got there. Can I take a look?" he offered, trying to sound contrite.

Deanna decided that she would likely get much more out of him if she responded in kind. Her gaze softened.

"Come along then. Have a look at it and tell me what you think."

The doctor move forward to examine the two inch laceration that was above the outer corner of her left eyebrow. He first cleaned and disinfected it, and then carefully probed around and within it.

"It's fairly deep but clean." he finally pronounced. "I can suture it for you, but if you'd like I can get a plastic surgeon in to do it. He'd probably leave a less obvious scar."

The last thing that Deanna was concerned about was a scar. She actually considered that that would be the least that she deserved for being such an absolute cretin in bringing about this entire disaster.

"No, you go ahead and do it." she replied.

The doctor nodded and set about his task. Despite his earlier flippancy, and more probably due to Deanna's silent and icy following rebuke, he was far more meticulous and disciplined than he might otherwise have been. It took nine carefully placed stitches to close the cut to his nervous satisfaction. After ordering the requisite Tetanus shot, he left. Edward, who had been standing outside waiting, immediately entered.

"Have you found out anything about Jared? She questioned him urgently. "How is he?"

"Michael has been able to get some information, My Lady.".

Indeed, Michael had had the great foresight to check Jared's stored belongings at the manor just before they all made their mad dash to the hospital. To be legal Jared had been given his driver's license, although nothing else, to bring with him. Quickly rummaging through the rest of his wallet left behind Michael had found and brought with him Jared's health insurance card. Facing the formidable firewall that was the receptionist at the ER front desk he presented the card to her. As obsequious as he could be, which was second nature to him with women of any stripe, he meekly explained to her that he was Jared's 'companion' and that after a 'spat' between them in their car he had dropped Jared off at the bar at his request so they both could 'cool off '. When he had calmed down he went back to get him and found the ambulance just leaving. He was oh so terrified about his 'friend' and could she possibly find it in her heart to tell him about Jared's condition, and to let Jared know that he was there for him.

While the implied relationship which Michael had woven for her did not meet the strict legal privacy guidelines of family members or health care proxy, Michael did have the insurance card, which did match the identity on the driver's license that they had found on Jared. The receptionist was only too happy to now be able to process the insurance information, and with a superior and knowing acknowledgment of Michael and Jared's 'relationship' she passed word through to the medical team taking care of Jared. The senior doctor in charge was also very happy to finally have someone to talk to about the case, and he came out to discuss it with Michael.

"He had a collapsed lung that they had to put a tube into his chest to re expand." Edward began to explain to Deanna and Belle what Michael had been told. "He also has a badly broken leg and may have some internal injuries." He paused to gather himself. "But his worst problem" he continued, "is that he has a large blood clot pressing on his brain, a subdural hematoma they call it, and they have to operate right away to drain it."

"Is he going to be okay?" Deanna struggled to hoarsely stammer out.

"They won't know how much damage there is until they evacuate the clot and see. He's unconscious now and on a ventilator."

Deanna sat stunned and unmoving, paralyzed by the news. After several very long moments of utter silence Edward spoke up again.

"My Lady, it's been a very long and hard night. Why don't you let Thomas drive you and Belle home. Michael and I will stay here until we know more, and I'll call you right away when we do."

This snapped Deanna out of her numbed daze. "NO. Absolutely not." she exclaimed. "We're not leaving until he's out of the operating room and we know he's alright."

"Yes, My Lady." he acquiesced, and he then led the three of them up to the surgical waiting room to join Michael and Thomas.

********

In actuality, as bad as Jared's injuries were they could have been far worse. As the sole proprietor of the bar, Harry, a 'retired' biker himself, had a vested interest in seeing that things like this didn't get too out of hand. While he was fine with his regular patrons exacting their retribution for the clear insult they had incurred, he couldn't allow it to possibly proceed onto homicide. At least not in his place. He suspected that had all this occurred on the road it might well have done so, with the slug disappearing and never to be found. So after he deemed a reasonable amount of punishment had been suitably administered he barked out a cease and desist. Though not by nature ones to follow commands, Hades Road Crew knew better than to cross Harry. And it was their haven as well after all. So after a few more kicks they let Jared slump, barely conscious, to the ground.

The police arrived shortly after and Harry was surprised that they did, finally deducing that it must have been those two whores, no they were pervs, who had called them. It made him wonder even more if they had all been together, him dressed like a fuckin fairy and the two pervs like whores on the make. So they probably did get what they deserved, although the pervs not enough by a long shot. But now Harry had to clean up the mess. For a standard weekly consideration he had a good working relationship with the local authorities, and as long as things never got too out of control they let a lot slide at the 'Haven'. As they tended to the badly beaten man on the floor it was an open question to the cops who were there whether this one had crossed that line.

But Harry, and everyone else in the bar, insisted that it had been the man who had started it all, attacking Nick unprovoked, apparently over two women none of them had ever seen before and who were now nowhere to be found, having run off when the fight started. That some of Nick's friends had come to his defense had been understandable, and fortunately cooler heads had prevailed before it had gotten too ugly. Assessing the now unconscious man while they called for an ambulance, the cops wondered just how much uglier it could have been. But they would interview the man later, and unless he decided to press charges ... or died ... for the sake of the ongoing 'congenial' working relationship they had with Harry, they were willing to at least then accept the unanimous version of events presented to them by everyone in the bar.

********

After more than three excruciating hours the surgeon finally came into the waiting room to give the five of them an update on Jared's condition . The blood clot on his brain had been successfully drained but there was still a significant amount of brain swelling that would take some time to subside, and it was unclear at this point whether there would be any residual neurologic damage. Otherwise, the prognosis for a good recovery, though it might be slow, was excellent.

Jared was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit and remained sedated on a ventilator for the next three days. He was finally able to be weaned from the ventilator but remained in a semi conscious and stuporous state for several days after that. Deanna had insisted that one of the four always be at the hospital to be available if Jared was in need of anything, and to relay any information about any change in his condition back to her. They all alternated in shifts and were happy to do so as they were all very concerned for him as well. After a week he was stable enough to be transferred out of the ICU and Deanna made sure to pay the extra cost, beyond his insurance coverage, so that he would have a private room.

Deanna herself never went to the hospital. Indeed she had essentially isolated herself within the manor almost completely. While the slaves carried on in their normal daily duties except for the time each of them spent at the hospital, there was very little interaction now between them and their Lady other than to report on their visits to Jared. She otherwise remained apart.

How could she have been so blind and stupid, she continually asked herself alone in her room. She had become so used to being in total charge that she had thought that she could control any situation. Yes, there had been that element of danger that had added a daring sense of excitement that night, but she had been so sure that the force of her personality, her aura of power, would always hold sway. She had been so wrong. That was obviously only true with those who willingly submitted to it, and her false conceit had almost cost the three of them their lives.

Despite the slaves' apparent ongoing allegiance, she didn't see how it could all go on. The totally unconventional, out of the box relationship they had all built and developed was based on mutual self interest and desire. But as with any relationship of any stripe, for it to grow and flourish it had to be sustained by caring and trust. And she had betrayed that trust, had jeopardized to the ultimate degree those who had willingly and completely placed themselves in her care. She just could no longer understand how she could deserve their devotion. As each day went on she withdrew more and more.

For the first few days in his private room Jared had only brief periods of consciousness, which were incoherent and confused, and he did not recognize any of the four who were with him at those times. The doctors had assured them all that this was to be anticipated and they were encouraged by his increasing levels of responsiveness, if not his cognition. One afternoon though, when Edward was sitting in the room with him as he slept, Jared opened his eyes.

"Edward?" he spoke hesitantly as he saw Edward in the chair by the window.

"Jared!" Edward replied, relief very evident on his face as he got up to go over to the bed. "It's great to have you back."

"What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital Jared, and it's a rather long story."

Jared closed his eyes to let that sink in. Then it all came to him in a rush and he tried to sit up. "I remember. Deanna. Belle." he cried in alarm.

Edward put his hand on Jared's shoulder to keep him down. "They're fine, Jared, they're fine. They got away thanks to you. You saved them."

Jared looked up at Edward's face and saw the calm and the smile and he sank back down into his pillow. "Good." he responded, relieved. "Good", and reassured he fell back into sleep.

His condition improved steadily after that. Abel began making daily special goodies to either bring or send to him, to help fatten him back up, he said, and regain his strength. Thomas took it upon himself to act almost as a personal trainer making sure that Jared did and redid all the exercises in bed that the hospital physical therapist had prescribed. Someone in the hospital had recognized Jared and his name, and word had gotten out in the press leading to a flurry of articles along the lines of 'Former Baseball Star Hurt in Barroom Brawl'. Michael had immediately gone into his public relations mode, controlling and spinning the story that Jared had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had made the mistake of getting involved in the middle of an argument between a couple of bikers and their lady friends.

The police also finally came by to interview him. Jared had sent word through Michael that he definitely didn't want Deanna or Belle to become involved, and he told the police that he didn't remember very much and certainly couldn't identify any of his assailants. He also didn't know any of them, including any women beforehand, and so he couldn't see how he could press for any charges, as he honestly couldn't say who did what and when. With no witnesses to counter Harry's account, or that of any of the others in the bar that night, the police were only too happy to close the case.

Like Deanna, Jared was an only child with both parents deceased, and he had no family left except for some distant second cousins with whom he had lost contact over the years. Because of the press notice a good number of his former teammates and old friends came to visit him however. Jared was pleased and appreciated these visits but was much more comforted and buoyed by the daily rotating presence of the four from the manor. Still, he reflected during his overnights alone, it was good to realize once again that he still had contacts and connections and a life outside the manor.

Deanna never came to see him.

About a week after their last meeting Edward returned for another visit. Entering the room he found Jared for the first time out of bed sitting in a chair, his casted leg propped up on a hammock.

"Jared, it's so good to see you up and out of bed." Edward exclaimed, genuinely pleased.

'Yeah, it feels real good, though I'm still weak as a kitten. The doctors think I'm making great progress though. They say I should be ready for a transfer to a rehab facility in another couple of days. And once the cast comes off I'll probably be back on my feet in a couple of weeks."

"That's wonderful. Nothing could make any of us happier."

Jared bowed his head. "You guys have all been fantastic, being here for me all the time. It's really helped me keep my spirits up and I do thank you all."

"Nonsense." Edward demurred. "It's us who should be thanking you. We all owe you a debt that can never be repaid."

"Any of you would have done the same thing."

"That may or may not be true, but the fact is that you're the one who actually did, with no thought to yourself, and suffered a heavy price for it. But thankfully you've come through it and we all can't wait for you to be up and about again."

"Thanks." Jared turned his head away. He had been thinking about this almost constantly for several days and now was as good a time as any. He looked back.

"Edward, I'm not going back."

There was no confusion as to what Jared meant. Edward sighed and looked out the window. After several long moments he spoke.

"Since the day you first came and I learned who you were, I've wanted nothing more from you than that. I honestly believed that it would be the best for all concerned." He paused and took a heavier breath. "Now I'm not so sure."

"What do you mean." Jared protested. "None of you have wanted me there. Okay, the four of you have sort of taken me in and we've kind of became friends. But Deanna ..." He stopped and pressed his lips tightly. "Your first allegiance has to be to her and she's made it perfectly clear in every way possible that she wants nothing more from me than to be gone."

"I no longer believe that's true."

"How can you say that? What does she have to do to prove it?" Jared proclaimed, becoming more animated. "Everything she's done since I've been there has been to try to convince me to leave, that I no longer and never will be wanted by her again. And that insane escapade at the bar that went so wrong was probably just supposed to drive the final point home. Well it did. She's finally convinced me." He looked down at his hands and in a voice now barely above a whisper, "She hasn't even come by to see how I am."

Neither of them spoke for over a minute, and the silence hung like a shroud. Finally Edward broke through.

"I know that I have no right to say this, but it's what I really believe to be true." His eyes bore down on Jared. "If Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, what must it be like for a Domme who felt that way." He stopped and his face softened, "She didn't know how to react, Jared, how to feel, how to forgive when you returned, even when you showed how so very far you were willing to go. And now she is even more at a loss on how to ask for your forgiveness. Or how to forgive herself."

"She doesn't want my forgiveness, Edward. Nor me."

"She not only wants it, she needs it. She just doesn't think she deserves it."

"I think you're wrong Edward, I really do. But if you think it's necessary you can tell her for me that she doesn't have to concern herself or worry anything about me any more."

Edward looked long and hard at him. "I will if that's what you want, Jared."

Jared just nodded, and there was nothing more to say.

Upon arriving back at the manor Edward immediately went to Deanna to report on his visit with Jared, as she required. This was the one daily standing order that she still insisted on. While the rest of the manor's minions continued to diligently perform the rest of their daily duties, they continued to do so without any apparent interest or much interaction with the manor's Lady.

Deanna looked up quickly as Edward entered her office. She was spending almost all of her time on the second floor, rarely venturing to the main floor or outside, although she had done no writing or exercising since that night.

"How is he doing today?" she asked anxiously without any preamble.

"Very well, My Lady. He was out of bed and sitting in a chair for the first time. The doctors have told him that they likely will be transferring him to a rehabilitation facility very soon."

Her eyes lit up. "That's fabulous." she beamed. "How long do you think it will be before he's up and about and can ..." she hesitated and her voice softened, "... come back."

Edward knew he was going to have to be the bearer of the news and there was no way to sugar coat it.