by Stella Moore
Jack was waiting by the front door when she pulled up. For a moment, she sat in her car and studied him in the rearview mirror. He really was something to look at, she mused. Even just standing there, he exuded power and authority. And by some strange twist of fate, he was all hers.
Grinning, she got out of the car and walked up to him, leaning in for a kiss.
“Hey, doc,” he greeted her cheerfully.
“Hey yourself. Are they ready for us?”
He nodded and guided her inside, his hand resting gently at the small of her back. When they were seated at their table, she ordered a bottle of wine that she knew would pair well with whatever they ordered and they studied their menus.
“So, what do you suggest, doc?” he asked, setting aside the menu.
“Well, the chicken tikka masala has been a favorite of mine at pretty much any Indian restaurant. Anything with tandoori in the name. If you're a fan of super spicy, you could try the pork vindaloo.”
“I like spicy.”
She looked up from her menu and debated whether she should say anything else. On the one hand, she wanted him to enjoy his first Indian experience. On the other, brattier hand, the look on his face at his first taste of pork vindaloo would probably be worth the spanking she was sure to get when he realized her deception.
As usual, though, being responsible won out. “I would recommend starting with something other than anything vindaloo, until you get an idea of how spicy Indian food really is.”
“You calling me a wimp, doc?” He grinned playfully.
She laughed in response. “Never.”
The waiter returned shortly after and they placed their order.
“How was court?” Jack asked when they were alone again.
“It was rough, especially for Penny. The defense called their expert witness and they had those texts and emails that were admitted into evidence. Penny had been given a heads up by the DA that the defense had gotten their hands on the evidence in question, so that she wouldn't be blindsided in court.”
“Did Jennings take the guy apart?”
She grinned. “Absolutely. He completely deconstructed the defense’s argument by walking through all of the things we know Franklin did that could never be justified by the fact that he was her dominant.”
Jack nodded. “Good. Think you'll still need to testify?”
Her good mood faded a bit. “I'm not sure. It's not a necessity at this point, in my opinion. But then, I'm not the expert in this instance. Jennings is.” She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “Penny's father was in court today.”
“How'd that go?”
She sighed. “He was very supportive. She didn't know he was there, and in fact she asked him not to be but he came anyway. He told her he loved her and nothing she could do would change that. It was a very sweet, if tense moment.”
“He's a good man. Are you okay?”
Tears filled her eyes at the simple question. “I don't know. She's my friend, and I'm so happy her parents are supporting her through this whole mess. At the same time, it's hard not to draw comparisons. And I feel like a horrible friend because I hate her, just a little, for having something I'll never have.”
He reached across the table to link his fingers with hers. “That's human, I think. Don't beat yourself up about it too much.”
“I'm trying. Objectively, intellectually, I understand the reasons I feel the way I do. And if I were my own patient, I would know exactly the steps to tell myself to take to move past it. But, well, I'm just not there yet,” she finished bluntly, swallowing the remainder of her wine.
“You'll get there, because you're not a horrible friend. But on the subject of parents, you should meet my mom. She's been asking about you.”
Melissa froze in the act of pouring a second glass of wine. “Oh. That would be nice.”
The corner of his lip twitched up into a wry smile. “You don't sound so sure.”
She finished pouring the glass, and took a sip before responding. “It's a big step. But I'm ready, if you are.”
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I wouldn't have brought it up if I wasn't. How's Saturday sound?”
“Saturday is perfect.” She forced a smile and hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous the whole thing made her.
Chapter 25
On day seven of the trial, the defense rested. Jennings had given Melissa a heads up that she would be called as a rebuttal witness, but it was still a bit jarring to hear her name called. Walking up to the stand, she focused on keeping her breathing even and her heart from racing. After she was sworn in, she perched on the surprisingly comfortable chair.
Jennings took her through her credentials and the defense approved of her as an expert witness. They walked through her history with Penny as her therapist and then Jennings began his questioning.
“Dr. French, in your experience, is there a difference between dominance, and punishment, and abuse?”
She was surprised to find she wasn't as nervous as she'd expected to be. This was, as she'd once told Jack, what she'd spent her adult life studying and exploring. She was in her element. “Of course.”
“What would you say the main difference between them is?”
“The largest and most obvious is consent. Once consent is withdrawn, either completely or temporarily through the use of a safeword, anything that happens after that is abuse, plain and simple.”
“In your opinion, was Ms. Frost abused by Mr. Pierce?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” She didn't have to fake the conviction she could hear in her own voice. It was embedded into every fiber of her being.
“How can you be sure? You never observed Ms. Frost and Mr. Pierce together, did you?”
“I've spent my life studying these lifestyles. I am trained to look for signs of abuse. When Ms. Frost came to me, her behaviors, her speech, everything about her was nearly textbook for an abused woman. The scenes she described to me only confirmed that belief as we worked together.”
Jennings asked a few follow up questions, and then it was Chalmers’ turn. He stood and made a show of buttoning his suit jacket as he studied her. “Dr. French, have you ever met Mr. Pierce in person?”
“No, I have not.” She could see straight through the sleaze to where he was leading her. Fury bubbled up in her and was ruthlessly pushed aside.
“So all you have to base your testimony on is the word of your patient?” He turned to the jury as he waited for her to respond.
“No.”
The sudden tension in his shoulders told her she'd thrown off his rhythm.
“No?” he repeated, turning back to her. “Can you explain please, Doctor? And I'd like to remind you that you are under oath.”
“I have years of medical and psychiatric training to base my testimony on. I know an abused woman when I see one.”
Chalmers wasn't giving up that easily. “Isn't it possible that she told you what you needed to hear to believe that she was being abused?”
Melissa considered her words carefully before responding. There was a fine line here between what she knew in her bones to be true, and what she could objectively say to be true. “In my expert opinion, with the amount of time we spent in intensive therapy sessions over the space of five years, it is not plausible that any of her behaviors were anything other than authentic.”
“Not plausible, but possible?” he pressed.
“There is always a slight possibility that someone is misrepresenting themselves.” The words were bitter in her throat, and she couldn't bring herself to look in Penny's direction.
“No further questions.” Chalmers took his seat. Jennings stood once again for redirect.
“Dr. French, is there anything else that you observed, other than Ms. Frost’s behaviors that leads you to believe she was abused?”
“Yes. The fact that Mr. Pierce only approached Penny again after seeing her with a new man points to jealous tendencies. His use of fear to co
ntrol her by threatening her significant other is classic abuser behavior. Even if I'd never met Ms. Frost, the facts of this case, which all remain undisputed, condemn him.”
Jennings gave her a small, approving smile. “No further questions.”
Melissa returned to her seat. Relief flooded her when Penny reached for her hand and squeezed. They sat together, lending each other silent support as closing arguments were delivered.
The next morning, Melissa sat in her office between appointments, obsessively checking her phone for updates. She wanted nothing more than to be there for Penny as the jury deliberated, but she'd already spent too much time away from her practice. So she had to be content with text messages and news updates.
Fortunately for everyone involved, the jury reached a decision by noon. Melissa was taking a short lunch break when her phone rang. Seeing Penny's name on the screen, she immediately answered.
“Guilty!”
“What?” She wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.
“Guilty. For the kidnapping, the stalking, and the domestic violence charges. There were a few little ones they couldn't nail him on, but all the big ones stuck. I can't believe it.” There was a hitch in Penny's voice that told Melissa she was crying.
Melissa blinked back her own tears of relief and joy. “That's incredible.”
“Mel, listen.” There was a brief pause. “I can't thank you enough. I know how hard it was for you to testify, and I know what you sacrificed. You're the best friend a girl could ask for.”
Melissa grinned at the muffled “Hey!” from Elisa in the background.
“I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Hey, Jack and I are having lunch with his mom on Saturday but let's get together Sunday and celebrate. I'll bring the wine.”
“It's a date! We'll meet at my place. Thank you, again, for everything.”
Chapter 26
“How's this?” Melissa modeled the outfit she'd chosen for lunch with Jack's mother. Used to more formal meals with her parents, she felt suddenly at sea trying to decide what to wear.
“Sweetheart, you'd look great in a potato sack. And my mom doesn't care what you wear.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Dammit, Jack. This is important to me. Is this okay or not?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Watch your tone. You look fine.”
“God, you are such a man. Just forget it.” She stalked back to the bedroom and shoved her jeans down her legs. She was yanking the top she was now certain she hated over her head when she spotted Jack leaning against the doorframe, watching her. Riding high on her temper, she threw the shirt at him, hitting him squarely in the face. The shirt fell to the floor with an almost comical plop.
“Okay. I guess we're doing this.” He reached her in three strides, grabbed her by the arm and led her to the bed.
“Wait! You can't!” But her panicked protests fell on deaf ears and she was suddenly facedown over his lap and his hard, heavy hand was slamming into her backside. The punishing blows fell hard and fast, until every inch of her bottom felt like it was on fire.
The spanking suddenly stopped and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Stand up.”
Sliding off his lap, she stood and faced him.
“Do I have your attention?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, I promise you, whatever you feel comfortable wearing will be fine. My mother is going to love you, no matter what. You don't need to worry about it, at all.”
“Okay.” She sent him her best sheepish smile. “I'm sorry I threw my shirt at you.”
“I know.” He shot her that cocky grin she loved. “Next time I won't be so nice.”
An hour later, they pulled up in front of a cute little apartment building. Jack led her inside and up the stairs to the second floor. They stopped in front of a door with a pretty, fall themed wreath and he gave her hand one more reassuring squeeze before opening the door. The easy, casual move threw her off balance. She couldn't imagine just walking into her parents’ home, regardless of the fact that it was where she'd spent her childhood and part of her adult life. Such things simply weren't done in her family.
“Ma!” he called as they stepped inside, “we're here.”
A tall, thin woman stepped out of what Melissa assumed was the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel tucked into her waistband. Eyes the same hazel color as her son’s sparkled in a face that age seemed to have barely touched. Her chestnut hair fell in waves around her face, which she pushed away impatiently.
“You must be the Melissa I've heard so much about.” The woman smiled and stretched out a delicate hand.
Melissa accepted the handshake and forced a smile of her own. “You have a lovely home, Mrs. Meyers.”
“Please, call me Hannah. Why don't you two have a seat in the living room and I'll bring out some sweet tea.”
Melissa followed Jack into the living room and perched on the couch next to him. “Your mother is wearing a dress. I told you I shouldn't have worn jeans.” She tugged uncomfortably at the flowy, plum colored top she'd finally decided on.
Jack gave her leg a light pinch. “Stop it. You're beautiful. It's not a dressed-up thing, she just prefers dresses.”
“I confess to being a bit of a hippie,” Hannah said, laughter in her voice as she carried a tray of drinks into the living room. “I really only wear pants if I'm going to be hiking or some other outdoor activity.”
Melissa blushed and accepted the drink that was offered. “I apologize for being rude. I'm just a little nervous.” Sometimes honesty really was the best policy.
Hannah waved off her apology. “Of course you are. It's only natural. And it's natural for a woman to fret about her clothes, Jackson. Leave the poor girl alone.”
Jack rolled his eyes and Melissa couldn't help but giggle. “How did I not know your full name is Jackson?”
“Because I prefer Jack.”
“But I like Jackson. I think I'm going to call you that from now on.” The playful banter helped to ease her nerves.
Jack sent her a warning look, which apparently wasn't missed by his mother. “You look just like your father when you do that, you know. And Jackson is a perfectly lovely name.”
Defeated, Jack sighed and settled back against the couch. “Yes, Ma.”
“So, Melissa. Jack tells me you're a doctor.”
“Yes, a psychiatrist. I have my own small practice.”
“How fascinating. You must meet the most interesting people.” Hannah's eyes sparkled with mischief.
Melissa laughed. “I do. But then, I tend to find everyone interesting in one way or another. It's part of why I chose the field I did. To figure out what makes people do the things they do. What makes them really tick.”
“We should go to the park sometime and people watch together. I'd love your opinions.”
“I'd enjoy that,” Melissa said with a smile, and she realized it was true. She could see herself spending an afternoon with Hannah, just chatting and watching people. In mere minutes, she felt a connection with this woman she'd never even felt with her own mother. The realization had tears burning against the backs of her eyes.
“Do you have a bathroom I could use?” she asked suddenly, pushing herself up off the couch.
“Of course, dove. First door on the right in that little hallway there.”
“Thank you.” Melissa forced herself to be polite and not hurry. In the bathroom, she closed the door and simply slid down it to the floor. She allowed the tears to fall. She was too tired to hold them back any longer.
Once again, she wondered what it must have been like to grow up with that unconditional love and acceptance. To come home at night knowing that no matter what you did, someone would always be there to hold you, to teach you, to help you pick up the pieces. On some level, she'd always resented her parents, but it wasn't until recently that she realized how screwed up her childhood had been. Pushing your children to excel was one thing. Alienating them when the
y failed to meet your expectations and never showing an ounce of affection was quite another.
So if they didn't want her, that was fine. She'd make her own little family. The thought caught her by surprise because she'd never felt the pull towards motherhood that she knew some women experienced. But once it was there, it took root in her mind and her heart. She was suddenly absolutely sure of what she wanted. A family, with Jack if he was willing. Alone, somehow, if he wasn't.
Holding that newfound desire close to her heart, she pushed herself up off the floor. She washed her hands and dabbed under her eyes with a cold wet cloth. Searching for any overt signs of her weepy spell, she approved of herself and returned to the living room. Feeling more at home, she relaxed on the couch, leaning into Jack's embrace.
“I'm just going to check on lunch,” Hannah said breezily, rather obviously giving them some privacy.
Jack brushed a kiss across her temple. “You okay?”
“Yes. I'm firmly in okay territory and slowly making my way towards good. Your mother is amazing.”
“Yeah.” The affection he had for her was evident in his voice, but for the first time in a long time, it didn't make her ache. It filled her with hope that one day she might have a child who spoke of her in such affectionate tones.
Later that evening, they made the drive back to Melissa's house. She hadn't expected to stay quite so long, but they'd all enjoyed each other's company so much, it had been difficult to leave. At her house, they went about what she now recognized as their evening routines. Somewhere along the line, they'd fallen into a comfortable rhythm with each other. The realization only strengthened the resolve she'd felt at his mother's house.
She tracked him down in the living room, where he had his laptop propped on the seat cushion next to him and papers strewn across the coffee table. The mess should have irritated her, and the fact that it didn’t cemented what she’d decided to ask him. “I think you should move in.” She made the statement calmly, proud of the fact that her voice didn't hitch even a bit.
To her amusement, Jack simply froze in place, then slowly lifted his head to stare at her. “Move in? As in, here? With you?”
