Drake Forever

by S. E. Lund

  "Yes," I said and together, we went to the back and Kate picked Sophie up and checked her diaper after kissing her on both cheeks.

  Kate changed her and we talked about the closing arguments.

  "Anything different from what they said in the trial?

  Kate shrugged and finished changing Sophie. "Not that I could tell. The focus of the prosecution was on the physical evidence tying Lisa to the crime scene, the forensic evidence and Jones's confession. Lisa's lawyer focused on how Jones's testimony was self-serving and shifted all the blame for planning to Lisa. How she was the victim in all this, due to her submissive nature."

  "Ha!" I said with derision. "That's the biggest joke of all."

  "I agree. I think the jury will agree as well. It's pretty hard to deny that she planned things when there are emails stating what she wanted. But they may be sympathetic to her when it comes to sentencing."

  "Well, as long as she stays behind bars for a good decade or two longer, I'll be happy."

  "Me, too."

  We went to the living room where Ethan was waiting and Kate gave her father a kiss then put Sophie onto the floor with her toys.

  We spent the rest of the time before dinner going over the trial. Ethan was eager to hear the details and we had the benefit of his knowledge of the law and how courts worked to help understand what was happening.

  "There was nothing new," Kate said. "The evidence is pretty damning, as far as I can see. Why wouldn't her lawyer have urged Lisa to accept a plea bargain to a lower offense? Why go to court?"

  "She's a narcissist," Ethan said. "She can't be wrong. She has to do everything possible to make people see how she's the one who's been harmed in all this -- not you or Drake or Derek Richardson or Jones. Her. She's the victim," Ethan said, warming to his subject. "In her mind, she probably really believes it. She can't accept responsibility for anything that makes her look bad. It's everyone else who is at fault. That's key to understanding a malignant narcissist. They will fight to the bitter end to defend their self-image. It's very sad but I've seen it all too often in cases like this. These people are accidents waiting to happen. They go through life harming people, leaving broken hearts and bruises on all those they encounter. And for the worst of the lot, dead people."

  "Is it because of her past?" Kate asked, her expression concerned. "I mean, the abusive home?"

  Ethan shrugged, and pursed his lips. "There is a gene that gives a predisposition to criminality if the boy is abused as a child. I don't know that it applies to women. Haven't read the research."

  "I have," I said and they turned to listen. "All I know is that for some children, abuse will make their personality flaws worse. In Lisa's case, I suspect that she didn't get the minimum care and nurturing she needed to develop empathy. But she's very smart. Above average intelligence, so she was able to get scholarships and compensate for her lack of care in her childhood. But it's clear that she's a narcissist. Most definitely a sociopath."

  "What's the difference?" Kate asked.

  "A sociopath lacks empathy, but they are quite capable of understanding their own culpability in their actions. They just don't care. A narcissist cares exceedingly about not being seen as culpable. They can't accept responsibility for anything that makes them look bad. It's always someone else's fault. You can be a narcissist without being a sociopath. And vice versa. Add them together and wham. That's Lisa. She must be loved. She can't be unloved. She can't be wrong. It's someone else's fault and she's the victim even when she's bringing the hammer down onto Derek's head when he tries to escape."

  "It makes me sick to my stomach to think of it," Kate said. We sat in silence and watched Sophie playing on the floor.

  It made me sick as well.

  "We're lucky we escaped with our lives," I said. "She almost got you and Sophie."

  Kate turned to me. "She's completely delusional to think you'd run to her with me out of the picture."

  "She probably just flipped when NYU kicked her out of the program. I don't think she planned on killing you except in that moment, but I could be wrong."

  "I remember her expression at O'Riley's that night you were playing. If looks could kill..."

  I reached over to Kate and took her hand. "Thank God you lived." I kissed her hand.

  "Amen," Ethan said. "She's not getting out of jail any time soon. We can count on that at least. Depending on the jury, she'll be in for another decade or two. That should keep her away from you for at least that long. By the time she gets out, she'll be in her sixties."

  "Does age change a narcissist?" Kate asked, frowning.

  "No," I said, remembering the research. "They don't mellow. They stay that way their entire lives. When she gets out, we'll make sure to get a restraining order if we're still here in Manhattan. I'd like to think she'd be safe at that point, after twenty-five years in jail, but I don't think that. She'll be vengeful. She probably has already convinced her family to get revenge on her behalf. That's why I was attacked by her nutcase brother and possibly her crazy aunt."

  I almost told Kate about my job offer at that moment, but then Elaine came into the living room wearing an apron, a wooden spoon in her hand. "Are you three talking about the trial? I thought we agreed to talk about something pleasant." She raised her eyebrows.

  "Guilty as charged," Ethan said. "We did. It's hard to ignore, considering. But let's talk about something more pleasant. How about Nassau? Is that pleasant enough?"

  "Perfect," Elaine said. "That's more like it. Personally, I can't wait."

  "Me either," Kate said and smiled. "I want to see Sophie playing on the beach with her little floppy hat and sunglasses. That's one thing I miss about San Francisco. I loved the beach."

  "Me, too," I said and for the rest of the night, we avoided talk of the trial like it was the plague.

  When eight o'clock came around, and we'd finished Elaine's delicious meal of Korean Beef stir fry and a crème caramel for dessert, Kate started to gather up Sophie's toys.

  "We better go," she said. "Sophie has to get to bed and so does Drake. He's playing with the band this weekend, now that he's almost officially recovered from his concussion. I want him well-rested."

  "Yes, nurse," I said with a laugh.

  "I'd love to come and hear you play," Elaine said. She turned to Ethan. "Maybe we could come and see the band? What do you think?"

  Ethan nodded. "I heard you play once, back when the band first got together," he said and I was surprised. We'd never much talked about Mersey. "I'd love to come and hear you guys again. Seems to me you did a lot of Beatles. I was a Stones fan, myself."

  "They play the Stones," Kate said, smiling. "The old stuff. Paint it Black, Under My Thumb."

  "That music was big when we were over in 'Nam. Do you mind if we come?" he asked me.

  "Of course not," I replied. "I'd love to have you. I'm sure the O'Rileys would love to meet you."

  "It's a date," Ethan said. "It's good to get out of the house now and then. Take the old wheelchair for a spin. Is it wheelchair accessible?"

  I nodded. "Yes. It's on the main floor and there's a ramp into the building if I remember correctly."

  "Great. I look forward to it."

  At that, we all kissed and hugged and said our goodbyes.

  On the way home, Kate turned to me and took my hand. "I'm so glad it's all over. We can put this behind us and move forward."

  I kissed her hand. "Me, too."

  In her car seat beside us, Sophie's eyes were closed and her pacifier was clamped between her teeth, the sound of the car lulling her to sleep.

  We got home and put her to bed without much fuss, and then it was just Kate and me alone.

  I sat down on the sofa and opened my arms, wanting her to come and sit with me.

  "Come here," I said softly. "I have something to talk about with you."

  She came over and slipped into my arms, her arms around my neck.

  "Shoot."

  Her face was expectant,
and I didn't know how to word my news, except to come right out and tell her.

  "Michael Owiti has taken over the helm of the neurosurgery department at the Southampton Children's Hospital. He wants to add a robotic surgery unit to the neurosurgery department. He wants me to be the head of the unit and get it set up."

  She looked in my eyes. "And?"

  "And I want your thoughts."

  "When would the position start?"

  "January."

  She sighed. "You don't really want to leave Manhattan again so soon, do you?"

  I could see tears forming in her eyes. She didn't want me to take the position.

  "There's nothing here for me now. I can't work at NYP. I can't do my fellowship at NYU. We've lost so many donors at the foundation that it's being shut down."

  "It's being shut down?" Kate's face reddened. "That's terrible!"

  "Dave's going to set up a new foundation to do the same work, but without me attached in any way except as the main anonymous donor."

  "Oh, Drake," she said and pressed her cheek against mine. "That bitch has ruined your life."

  "It's not ruined," I protested. "I have you and Sophie. I have Liam. I have Ethan and Elaine. I have my new family."

  "But you're a neurosurgeon. And you want to be a pediatric neurosurgeon. Doing robotic surgery. It's so not fair."

  "Life isn't fair."

  We sat together, her head on my shoulder, and I waited for her response.

  "So, what are your thoughts?"

  She didn't say anything for a moment.

  "You don't want to go," I said and forced her to look in my eyes. "We won't go if you don't want to."

  A tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. "I thought you'd want to stay because of Liam. And I hate to leave my father. He's so frail..."

  "I know," I said. "I don't want to leave Liam or Ethan. But setting up a robotic neurosurgery unit at the pediatric hospital? Kate, that's what I've always wanted to do."

  She didn't say anything, just sat there with tears running down her cheeks, her eyes on mine.

  "I'll say no," I said, my heart heavy but I knew where my heart really lay. It was with her. I wanted her happiness.

  "Are you sure?" she said, her voice so soft I could barely hear it. I knew she was torn. But I wanted to know how she really felt. I didn't want to get over to England and have her depressed.

  "I can wait. There'll be another opportunity that'll come along down the road." I kissed her and she nodded, wiping her eyes.

  "I wish it was here," she said. "Then there'd be no problem."

  "I know. Now, let's just forget all about it. I'll text Michael tomorrow and turn down his offer."

  "Okay. But I have to tell you that Lara already told me about Michael's offer."

  "She did?"

  Kate nodded. "She made me promise not to say anything until you told me yourself. She didn't want me to influence you or make you feel guilty."

  "You two…" I said, feeling bad that I had talked to Lara before talking to Kate. I just knew Kate would be upset at even the thought of moving away and leaving Ethan behind.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away," I said and leaned closer. "I won't keep anything from you ever again."

  "Neither will I."

  We kissed and then we finally went to bed. I wrapped my arms around Kate, but we were both blue from having to face the decision. Part of me wished Michael had never made the offer, but he did and now, we'd have to just move on.

  It would be hard but I would have to push it out of my mind and focus on my life with Kate and Sophie. And Liam.

  It would be enough.

  Kate

  The weekend was difficult. I felt sad about Drake turning down the offer to go to Southampton, but at the same time, I had just started to feel back home again in Manhattan.

  Of course, it was different this time -- the trial made it next to impossible for Drake to enjoy himself the way we used to. We couldn't just go out in public as easily because Drake inevitably got recognized and people would stare at us -- or worse.

  But I was determined to make Drake as happy as I could, given he had made this decision for me.

  Friday afternoon, I went to the waxing salon while Sophie slept. I wanted to get a Brazilian before date night, so I wasn't too irritated. It had been a while since I'd had one and I wanted to be smooth for our first night of sex since Drake had been attacked.

  Friday night, Drake and I spent in front of the television, ordering in some Indian food and watching a movie we'd been planning to catch in the theaters but never managed to get there.

  Drake slept in on Saturday morning and then went to O'Riley's that afternoon for practice. He was gone the rest of the day, and we would all have dinner before the first set at nine o'clock. Sophie and I spent the afternoon in the park and then came home for her nap. I'd called Karen on Friday and she agreed to come sit with Sophie Saturday afternoon, staying overnight so we could all go to O'Riley's and meet my dad and Elaine and then Drake and I could get a hotel room for a bit of a vacation. I had arranged a couple of hours at the spa by myself Saturday afternoon, and then I'd go out with my dad and Elaine to O'Riley's. They'd stay for the first set, and then would leave. I'd spend the rest of the evening at the bar, watching the second set and then, Drake and I would do our little scene of him picking me up and taking me to his hotel room.

  It sent a thrill through my body just imagining it.

  Earlier, before he left for the practice, Drake packed a bag for when he went to check in at the hotel. When I asked what he was packing, he wouldn't let me in the bedroom.

  "It's a surprise," he said through the bedroom door. "You'll just have to wait and see when we arrive, but I promise you that you'll enjoy it."

  "I will, will I?" I said, a thrill in my stomach at the prospect of a night alone in a hotel with Drake all to myself. "I better get into the right mindset first. I've booked some time at the spa so I can get ready and prepare myself for you."

  Drake peeked his head out of the door. "Prepare yourself? What could you possibly mean, Ms. Bennet?"

  "You can use your imagination, but let's say I will be perfectly turned out for a night at O'Rileys."

  "If you talk like that, I may not be able to focus when we're playing tonight."

  I winked at him coyly. "You'll just have to wait to find out."

  He leaned forward and kissed me, then left.

  Sophie and I waited for Karen, who arrived just before three. Sophie was pleased to see her, and barely said a peep when I finished dressing and went to the door, my overnight bag in my hand with my dress and other necessities. I'd change and get ready for dinner at my dad's and then the three of us would go to O'Riley's.

  I hadn't had a date night for a while and I needed one -- and needed Drake -- badly.

  * * *

  The spa was fantastic. I got a massage, then a manicure and pedicure at the salon. I went to my dad's and changed into my dress and we all drove to O'Riley's for dinner at seven thirty. Of course, Mrs. O made a huge deal of us being there and we all sat together at a large table in the rear of the restaurant and shared a traditional Irish meal of Guinness, Irish stew and meat pies. Everyone fawned over my father, for they had lost Mr. O'Riley years ago and missed having him at the table. My father sat at the head where Mrs. O usually sat and people asked him a thousand questions about his career on the bench.

  Of course, the talk turned to the trial and Ken held out a hand to stop everyone.

  "Drake, if you don't want to talk about it, we'll move on to other topics."

  Drake shook his head. "No, it's fine. It's not like it's a secret what happened. I'm just glad my part is over so Kate and I can move on."

  Mrs. O held up her glass of wine. "Then let's do just that. Move on to other subjects. Sláinte!"

  "Sláinte!" everyone replied and that was that.

  The meal finished, my parents and I found a table near the stage where my dad's wheelchair
wasn't in the way, while Mersey prepared for their first set of the night. By nine o'clock, the bar was full of regulars and the atmosphere was happy as the drinks flowed.

  The band came out while the lights were off and took their places, but the crowd was busy chatting and it wasn't until the lights went up on the stage that they paid attention.

  Drake stood at the microphone, his bass guitar slung over his shoulder. He looked devastatingly handsome with his longish black hair falling in his blue blue eyes, a white shirt open at the neck and a pair of low-slung black leather jeans. My insides felt all warm and mushy when I saw him up there. He was mine -- a gorgeous man. Soon, we'd be making love at the hotel and a surge of lust went through me at the thought. Seeing him so sexy on the stage, especially once he started singing, just did it for me. I can't deny I was proud that he was mine and as I glanced around at the crowd, I imagined that many of the women were wishing he was theirs.

  The first song was my favorite, of course -- And I Love Her. I knew that Drake picked it for me, and when he sang, he glanced out around the crowd until he found me sitting at the table. Our eyes met and a jolt of love and lust went through me. I held my finger tips to my lips and blew him a kiss.

  He smiled as he sang, and held my gaze while he said those words.

  My heart melted when I watched him, thinking of how much he'd been through in the last two years since Sophie's birth and the fallout from the attack and trials. His reputation was in tatters, he had to withdraw from the fellowship, and take a backseat at the foundation and corporation. I felt tears brim up in my eyes and my heart swell as I thought about how much this had cost him. We'd both been through so much, and finally -- finally -- it was over. All we had left was the sentencing and Lisa would go away to jail until her next trial for her involvement in Jones's suicide but that had nothing to do with Drake or me.

  We could put her completely out of our minds.

  And that was exactly what I tried to do for the next hour as we watched the show. I smiled at my father, who nodded his head in time to Time Is On My Side by the Stones.

  "This is my kind of music," he said with a laugh as I leaned in. "The good stuff. I know I'm an old codger."