Forever After: Book Five in the Unrestrained Series

by S. E. Lund

  Now, I only felt tired when I saw him naked.

  I bit my bottom lip and left the bathroom, quickly dressing in a pair of yoga pants and one of my breastfeeding bras and a loose top so I could easily pull out a breast to feed Sophie when she needed me. I stood at my dresser and brushed my hair, studying myself in the mirror. I looked the same, although there were dark circles under my eyes that no amount of sleep seemed to be able to erase.

  I knew I should have spoken to Drake about my sadness, being tired all the time and this dark oppressive cloud hanging over my head, but I felt that if I brought it up, I’d start crying and would never stop. So I didn’t.

  Drake finished his shower so I went downstairs to the living room and had a second cup of coffee – decaf so I didn’t upset Sophie. I wanted her to sleep as much as possible, because then I could as well. In fact, despite having at least six hours of sleep, I was ready to lie down and sleep more.

  I plopped down on the sofa and picked up my iPad, thinking I might read some news headlines, but instead, I yawned. I scrolled through the news feed and then I saw it – the Herald article on Drake. I couldn’t resist reading it although I knew it would make me sad or mad – one or the other. Mad felt better so I read it.

  The article did a brief recap of the story – I was pregnant and was struck by a car rented by a previous sexual partner of my husband, Drake Morgan, MD, renowned neurosurgeon. Then, the article talked about how Drake was known as ‘Master D’ in BDSM circles, and had an online presence, recently deleted, as well as letters that directed his ‘submissives’ how to act around him and what to expect.

  Then, the interview with a ‘former submissive’ of Drake’s – who went by the name ‘Sunny’ but whom I knew was Sunita. Described as a colleague of Drake’s who was in the lifestyle and who became involved with Drake as his submissive, the article claimed that Drake got sexual pleasure when he whipped and caned her (that was a clear lie), demanding that she was to be on her knees at all times (that I thought might be true).

  “He enjoyed it,” the woman who calls herself ‘Sunny’ said to this reporter. “He insisted that I crawl on the ground to him, and kiss his feet. Then he caned me until he drew blood. He liked it.”

  The article mentioned a temporary restraining order Dr. Morgan’s former wife took out on him during their divorce. When asked about the restraining order, Dr. Morgan’s former wife refused comment.

  This reporter wonders whether his former wife is still afraid of Dr. Morgan…

  That made my face hot with anger. It was pure gossip and untrue. Maureen wasn’t afraid of Drake. She was upset at him, had found someone new, and didn’t care about Drake anymore.

  The reporter went on to wonder what Dr. Morgan’s patients might think of his sexual interests, and noted that he had already taken a year leave of absence from his position as a staff neurosurgeon at New York Presbyterian.

  Perhaps trouble is brewing for Dr. Dominant at his place of employment?

  I was so angry by then that I almost threw the iPad across the room. In fact, I did plop it down on the coffee table a bit too hard and was afraid that I’d cracked the screen. My heart rate was increased and I was on the verge of tears of anger when Drake walked into the living room and saw me.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “I read the Herald article,” I said, my voice wavering with emotion. “I can’t believe they can get away with this. Can’t you sue for defamation or libel?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll speak with Lara. I’m sure I need proof that the article has hurt my reputation, and it’s too soon. There’s a lot these gossip rags can say, using ‘fair comment’ as justification. Lara will probably do some sleuthing and let me know.”

  “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” I said, my eyes brimming. “Sunita was so long ago. Why can’t she let things be?”

  He shook his head and flopped down beside me, his wet hair hanging in his eyes.

  “She’s trying to get right with God, or something. She’s joined this crusade against BDSM and I guess I’m the bad guy.”

  “That’s so wrong,” I said, my fists clenched. I took in a deep breath and tried to relax, but it was hard. I turned to Drake and searched his face. “Has anyone at work seen it? What about at NYU?”

  He shook his head. “Too soon to know what the fallout will be. I sent an email to Fred to give him a head’s-up about it but haven’t heard back yet.”

  He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. I snuggled into his arms and we sat in silence for a few moments. He kissed the top of my head and it was done totally out of affection, not to signify that we were in scene, but it made me think back to the last time we had done a scene. It seemed like so long ago – before I started to show. Once I was pregnant with a big belly, I didn’t feel like being tied up and blindfolded. I couldn’t explain it, but it didn’t feel right somehow.

  Now, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to do a scene again. All I’d be able to think about was Drake with Sunita, him with a cane in his hand, striking her on the backs of her thighs. I pushed that out of my mind. BDSM – at least the BD and D/s part of it, was part of our relationship and probably would be for a long time. I had enjoyed that part of our relationship. It was how we came together. It was how I came to understand my own sexual needs and desires for the first time.

  I was so confused about how I felt. Part of me felt sad and angry at the same time. Part of me felt dread about what was coming. There was only a very small part of me that felt any happiness and that was only fleeting.

  I should have spoken to Drake about my unhappiness, but he had enough on his plate now that the article had come out and his past in BDSM was public knowledge.

  So I didn’t.

  Chapter 5 : Drake

  I didn’t like to leave Kate after such an upsetting incident, but I had an appointment with Dave Mills about the foundation. After Kate fed Sophie and we both held her for a while, Kate put her down for a mid-morning nap.

  I kissed Kate goodbye and left the apartment and walked down the street to the parking garage.

  On my way, I called Lara.

  “Drake,” she said when she answered. “Just the man I wanted to speak with. How are things? Is Kate okay? How about Sophia?”

  “We’re all fine. I wanted to talk to you about the emails I supposedly sent to Lisa. What do you know? What do you think?" I stopped at the streetlights and waited for the crosswalk. "I never emailed her personally," I said, anger like a coiled snake in my gut. "I only ever emailed the group."

  "I know, I know," Lara said and I heard the frustration in her voice. "I said they were obviously faked. I told them you never whined, and the emails were from a Dom whining about a sub. What a joke… They were sent from a private email address if I remember correctly.”

  "Private email?" I replied, frowning as I entered the garage. "I don't use any private email account. I have my personal email through my cell provider and I have my business email through the hospital. I had a separate email for the Fellowship at NYU."

  "This was a Yahoo account," Lara said.

  "I don't have a Yahoo account."

  "Apparently, the police believe you do. She must have created a fake account for you and then written letters to herself using it."

  "What a fucking bitch," I said, totally in awe that she could be so demented. "She created a fake account for me and then used it? How did she manage to confirm it?"

  "That's a mystery, but the police have forensic people checking the email out. I'm sure they'll realize it's fake and discount it. Until they do, I must admit it looks pretty damning. St. James said there were others with some pretty incriminating content."

  "Oh, crap." I rubbed my forehead. "Who the hell knows what she wrote? She could have written anything. No wonder the police are suspicious about me."

  "That's not your only problem, "Lara said. “The Herald article is pretty nasty.”

  I arrived at my c
ar and opened the door, sliding into the driver's seat. “I know. I guess the reporter who was doing research on the accident found out who I am and talked to a few staff members at NYP. She found Sunita and has the video Sunita took.”

  “Yeah, I knew that video was a bad idea back in the day,” Lara said, her voice falling. “I read the article. You better come down and meet me at my office.”

  “How soon do you want me there?”

  “Like, right now.”

  “I’ll have to rearrange a meeting but it should be no problem. I’ll be ten minutes,” I said and closed my eyes. “Fifteen if the traffic is heavy.”

  “The traffic is always heavy, Drake. See you when you get here.”

  I ended the call and drove off.

  I found a parking spot a few blocks away from Lara's office, taking the rest of the distance on foot. I arrived at Lara’s building and after checking in with the security desk, I took the elevator to her floor.

  Her receptionist greeted me and ushered me into Lara’s office in the corner of the law office.

  “Hey, Drake,” Lara said and stood up from behind her desk. “Close the door and come on in.”

  I closed the door behind me and turned to face Lara, who came around her desk and held out her arms. “Give me a hug. I haven’t seen you for a while.”

  “Kate told me to give you a hug from her,” I said and embraced Lara, patting her on the back with warm affection. We held the embrace for a minute and then parted. She led me to a small seating area with two overstuffed sofas facing each other.

  “Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

  "It's a bit early," I said with a laugh.

  "Not when you have this in front of you. But I mean coffee, silly."

  I shook my head. “No, I already had a cup. But thanks.

  “Soo…” she said when I sat across from her. “What do you think?”

  “What do I think?" I said and shrugged, although I felt sick. "What do you think? You're the lawyer."

  "It’s bad,” she said, her voice level. “Those fake emails. The paper has the video that Sunita took of one of your sessions.”

  I sighed heavily. "I'd be suspicious of me."

  “Did Kate know about that video?”

  “Apparently, yes," I said. "Sunita contacted her early on when we first started to see each other. She wanted Kate to see it, but Kate declined.”

  “She didn’t see it?”

  “No,” I said. “She thought it was none of her business. At that point, she knew she had to either trust her gut or end things with me. She said she couldn’t even think of ending things so she said no.”

  “Thank God for that. I knew right away that you didn’t have it in you to be a strict Dom or Master. You weren’t into pain at all. No sexual response to it.”

  I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "It's these emails that have me worried," I said and stared into the distance. "How do we prove I didn’t create the email account and write those emails?"

  "I've been talking to our IT guy. He said they can check when the account was created and when the email messages were sent. I'm sure with a little digging, the police will realize Lisa did it all herself. Maybe she sent them all from the same IP. That would be a dead giveaway."

  I shrugged and ran my fingers through my hair, which was badly in need of a cut. "Until then, can we get access to the emails?"

  "I suspect the police may want to ask you directly about them, so don't be surprised about a call asking for a meeting. I was shocked that they talked to Kate about them first. Maybe they were hoping to jar her into confessing something incriminating. Turn against you or something."

  I nodded as I thought about how difficult that must have been for Kate to hear. "Poor Kate," I said. "How was she?"

  “She was a bit startled,” she said and leaned forward, her arms resting on her knees, her eyes expectant. “I was able to calm her down after. So, tell me what this bitch at the Herald said to you.”

  I leaned back and loosened my tie, thinking about Peterson. “She called Sunita a victim and a mentally ill person who couldn’t give consent so anything I said about ‘safe, sane and consensual’ went out the window.”

  Lara shook her head. “Some people will never get it. They don’t want to get it because it threatens their little fantasies about humans and our sexuality.”

  I nodded. Of course, Lara was preaching to the choir.

  “What can I do about the article, if anything?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. Best to let it go. If you’re asked about it, have a very simple statement prepared. You tried it and didn’t like it. You’re not that kind of Dominant. You don’t enjoy pain. End of story. From a PR perspective, that’s the most you can do. Hope it blows over.”

  “If it doesn’t?”

  “It will, believe me. I’ve dealt with these cases before. It might be a bit rocky for a while, but your services are in demand. I’m sure once this blows over, they will be again. People have short memories.”

  I wasn’t so optimistic. “What if it doesn’t blow over?”

  She leaned back and shook her head. “Worst case scenario? You leave Manhattan. Start up your practice somewhere else. Somewhere more sympathetic to sexual freedom. Maybe Key West. Or California. I hear San Francisco is really progressive.”

  “Manhattan is our home. Kate’s parents live here. The foundation is here. The headquarters for the corporation. Mersey…”

  “Both of you are young and can start a new life somewhere else. I doubt it will come to that, but if it does, move to San Francisco. They have a great hospital there. The scenery is fantastic.”

  I said nothing for a while, thinking of having to move away. I knew Kate would be upset at the thought of leaving her father, and rightfully so. His health wasn’t all that good.

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. So, there’s nothing I can do to get that article pulled?”

  Lara shook her head and gave me a hard glance. “Nope. It’s entirely factual, aside from a few titillating bits of speculation.”

  I sighed. “Should I put out a response?”

  “No,” she said. “If you’re contacted, give the canned response, like I suggested. If you want, I can write something up for you. In this case, less is more. Keep it simple. Keep it consistent. It’ll blow over. If it doesn’t, we’ll deal with it.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  Then Lara turned to me and held my eye. “So, what did Kate tell you?”

  I shrugged. “Just that you were there to help her while the police visited. Thanks, by the way.”

  “No problem,” Lara said. “What else did she tell you?”

  I frowned. “Other than telling her about the email, they asked a few questions about what she knew about Lisa being in the NYU residency and when she knew it. The same questions they asked before. She thought they were trying to see if her story was consistent. Maybe check out our place. See if there was a hidden dungeon.”

  “That’s about it. Did Kate tell you anything else?”

  I frowned at the tone of Lara’s voice. It was suggestive – of what I didn’t know.

  “About what?”

  “How she's doing.”

  I leaned back and considered. “How she's doing?” I thought for a moment. “She’s doing as well as can be expected, given she was almost murdered by a jealous ex-sex-partner of mine whose face I never actually saw without a mask on. That she had an emergency C-section, lost her ability to have more children, and has a preemie to look after. Why do you ask?”

  “Did she tell you that she’s sad and depressed all the time? That she cries when she’s alone?”

  A surge of adrenaline went through me. “What?” I said, my body tensing. “She told you that?”

  Lara nodded. “She cried on my shoulder. Said that she felt sad all the time. That she was always tired. That she didn’t want to tell you because you had enough going on and she didn’t want to burden you with it. I made her promise to tell y
ou. I told her that if she didn’t, I’d be talking to you myself.”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. “Oh, God,” I said, my throat choking with emotion. I looked back at Lara. “I knew she was having problems sleeping. She’s very emotional, but she’s never cried in front of me…” Then I remembered how she’d gone from laughter to tears in a few seconds flat when I fell outside the bathroom. I shook my head, knocking myself on the temple with my fist.

  “Dammit all,” I said. “She did cry last night. We had a laughing fit and she went from hysterical laughter to tears. I asked her how she was, but she never said anything.”

  Lara sighed. “She’s probably thinking about the emails and the article and figured that you had enough to worry about. At least now you know.”

  I looked in Lara’s eyes. “Thank you for telling me. Seriously, I’ve been watching her for signs of postpartum depression but it’s hard for me to know what’s normal for a new mother versus what’s serious. I’ll have to speak with her, maybe get her some extra help and counseling. I’ve been there almost all the time to help with Sophie, but there’s some things she must do – like nurse Sophie. I get up in the middle of the night to give her a bottle of expressed milk so Kate can sleep. I bathe her every other day, so Kate gets a break. I change her…”

  “Drake, it’s not your fault. It’s post-traumatic stress disorder, if anything. She almost died. Her baby could have died. That’s a lot for someone to take in. If it had been a regular accident and not an attempted murder, it would be hard, but it’s that, too. She has to worry about the trial, about the publicity, about the repercussions for you in terms of your career. No wonder she’s depressed and tired all the time.”

  I nodded. “I’ll hire a nurse to come over and let Kate sleep in every morning. She can do things for Sophie so I can spend more time with Kate. Right now, Kate feels protective towards Sophie. She practically watches her breathe, even though Sophie only had a brief period when her breathing was being monitored and we have an apnea monitor. Sophie’s doing well, considering.”