Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Exceeding everyone’s expectations, Jackson was coming home three days after surgery.
Not still in the hospital, not going to a rehab facility, but home.
He leaned heavily on Chris and James as the men helped him from the car.
Paula had gone ahead with his bag and opened the door.
She’d moved in two suitcases worth of her stuff the day before.
Chris and James had come over to install a grab bar in his bathroom and check for other possible hazards.
They had folded up three throw rugs Jackson might slip on, but found little else in Jackson’s ‘less is more’ interior design.
Almost all the Club Indigo members had stepped up to help. After Paula’s call to Laura, her friend had informed James and Suzie. Suzie, Connor, and Sonja had stocked the fridge and freezer with food; James had informed Chris, who in his turn had mobilized the entire crew.
Sandra—usually unintrusive, submissive and soft-spoken at the club—had surprised Paula by announcing, with no room for argument, that she’d be overseeing Jackson’s physical therapy.
Paula had only spoken to her once or twice in passing, but apparently, Sandra didn’t need familiarity to take charge when it came to healing bodies.
Kate had said massage would be good for healing and rebuilding his muscles; and Scott would make himself available if Jackson needed help dealing with the emotional aftermath of the explosion.
At first, Paula had felt overwhelmed with all the attention, but her protests had been halfhearted.
It felt good to have a solid support system.
Paula hurried to open the door and guided the guys into the living area. James and Chris helped Jackson lower himself onto the reclining section of the couch.
“Can I get you guys something to drink?” Paula asked as soon as Jackson looked relaxed and comfortable. At least, as relaxed and comfortable as someone with his injuries could be.
“No thank you, sweetheart,” James answered for himself and Chris. “We need to head over to check on our construction site on 118th Street. We’ve left our team alone for long enough.”
Chris offered his infectious smile and winked at her. “I’d love a raincheck on that drink.” He approached her and kissed her on the cheek.
Jackson grumbled. “Watch it.”
Chris shrugged like he didn’t have a care in the world. “What?” He turned his innocent wide eyes to Jackson. “I don’t see a ring or a collar on her. Besides, we’re not at the club.”
James sighed. “Stop teasing the cripple, Chris. She’s his sub, and you know it.”
Chris’ grin widened. “I know, but it’s so much fun to poke the bear.”
Paula reckoned it was time to intervene. “I’m sorry, Chris, but you’re wrong about the collar.”
Jackson jerked his head her way. Paula pulled the small box she’d found on Jackson’s bedside table from her pocket and went to Jackson.
She’d had it on her from the moment she’d found the necklace but hadn’t found the right time.
Now seemed as good as ever. She knelt on the floor beside him and offered the box on open palms, her head bowed.
“Please, Master, I—” The words she had formed in her mind wouldn’t come.
None could describe her feelings, anyway.
“Melda.” The urgency in his voice made her look up at him. “I will put on this necklace, and I promise you I’ll get you an appropriate collar as soon as I’m able.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “There isn’t a collar that could mean more to me than this necklace, Sir. If it’s all right with you, I’d prefer to wear this, Master.”
“In that case, I put it around your neck proudly, Melda. Please join me on the couch so I can put it on you.”
Paula perched on the seat beside him, mindful not to jostle his leg, and lifted her hair out of the way.
“Congratulations.” James’ low voice reminded her they weren’t alone, and heat rose in her face.
Chris piped up. “Yes, congratulations. I’d like to give you a hug to celebrate.” His sentence ended on a ‘hmph’ as James slapped the back of his head.
“Stop acting like a brat, Chris,” James scolded his friend and partner. “We’ll find our way out, Paula. Don’t get up.” He steered Chris outside by the back of his neck, the other man laughing too hard to do anything but go with the flow.
Paula watched them go, shaking her head before turning back to Jackson, who looked puzzled. “What?”
Jackson shook his head. “I was wondering—” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What?” Now she was curious.
“For a guy who identifies as a Dom, Chris is acting a bit strange, don’t you think?” Jackson cleared his throat. “Melda, don’t bite your nails.”
“Sorry, Master, I wasn’t thinking.” She’d been nibbling on a piece of skin beside the nail of her thumb and pulled her hand away from her mouth. “That could be an explanation for the attraction between him and Kate. He could be like Scott, couldn’t he?”
“You might be right. I didn’t see any tendency toward switching in him before, but it’s possible.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, and Paula didn’t know what to say or do. “Are you hungry, Sir?”
His eyes lit up, and his eyebrows lifted. “Are you going to cook for us?”
Paula chuckled. “We both know that’s not a good idea. I’m going to heat up something.” She started to rise from the couch. “We have an entire kitchen filled with goodies from The Sweet and Savory Table.”
She giggled as he swatted her ass, and she hurried away.
Before she reached the kitchen, the landline started to ring. She frowned at Jackson. “Who would be calling that number?”
“Can you get that for me, Melda? It’s probably just a telemarketer, but you never know.”
She shrugged and took the cordless handset from the base. “Cagney residence.”
She was met with a pause and was ready to hang up when a familiar-sounding person asked, “Could I speak to Jackson, please?”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is his brother.”
No wonder the voice was familiar – he sounded uncannily like Jackson.
Paula held her hand over the phone and said to Jackson, “He says he’s your brother.”
Jackson held out his hand. “Let me talk to him.”
Jackson watched Paula step away to give him privacy as he put the phone against his ear. “Hi, Harry. Long time no hear from.” Since Jackson was eight years older, he and Harry had never been close, but they were the only family each other had, and Jackson regretted the distance between them.
“I got a message from your boss saying you’d been hurt. Sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I’ve been out of cell range. Just back from Haiti. What happened? Are you okay?”
“I will be, but I’m laid up at the moment. I got into an accident at work and broke my femur. I also have a slight concussion. What took you to Haiti? Another MSF mission or have you found another way to save the world?”
“Don’t change the subject. Breaking your femur is hardly a normal accident, especially not for a cop. What happened?”
“I was rescuing a kid from a meth lab. I kind of got caught in the tag end of the explosion.”
“And you talk about me saving the world? Pretty soon you’ll leave the force and join me out here or you could always be a social worker. It might be safer than what you’re doing now. Please tell me you at least had body armor on?”
“Yes, Mother. I never go into a possible clusterfuck like a meth lab without at least my vest. I wasn’t going to leave a little five-year-old in there.
Anyway, I’ll be fine. My surgeon is an old friend from college, and he says I’m going to be as good as new with some PT. Now what about you? Catch me up.”
They continued talking for almost an hour.
The only thing that ended the call was Jackson’s stomach growling loud enough that Harry heard it over the phone.
“I think we should continue this conversation later, big brother. Why don’t you go eat?
I’ll be in the country for at least a month. Call anytime,” Harry finished.
Jackson called toward the kitchen, “Melda? Where did you vanish to? You didn’t have to go, you know. I wouldn’t have to explain everything if you’d stuck around.”
“I’m right here, Sir. Do you want me to hang that up?” She pointed at the phone.
“No rush. As you gathered, that was my brother Harry. He’s just back from Haiti, which is why he didn’t call sooner.
I think I’ve only got his cell phone listed on my emergency contact forms, and he doesn’t always have access to service.
Hence the delay in calling back. Of course, it could easily have been six months before I heard from him, too. This was only a week.”
“What was he doing in Haiti?”
“Saving the world. That’s his mission in life.
He’s a nurse practitioner and jack of all trades.
He was with MSF, Doctors Without Borders, for years.
Now he’s involved with an organization called Partners in Health.
He’s been helping with health clinics and such for the last year or so.
Haiti’s had so many natural disasters and so much poverty that they always need help.
Don’t get me wrong. I admire the hell out of him, but there’s always more to do, another disaster or civil war somewhere.
I worry about him. It’s a dangerous world. ”
“Says the man who almost died in an explosion right here in the good ol’ US of A. Does an attraction to danger run in your family or something?”
“No, but a desire to be of service does. My father was career Army, and my mother volunteered wherever he was stationed. I started off in the Army, too. Harry takes after my mother’s caregiving side, but both of us believe in doing our part to help people.”
Paula didn’t respond right away and merely watched him, unreadable as always.
Jackson found himself wondering about her family. She never talked about them. No casual mentions, no stories, not even the usual frustrations people let slip. What had shaped her into the guarded, controlled woman sitting across from him?
He was about to ask when the microwave beeped, cutting through the silence.
She stood quickly to get their meal, clearly grateful for the interruption. Jackson let it go. For now.