DRAKE

My last shift at UCSF was busy and I didn't have any time to spend thinking about my short tenure there and how much I enjoyed the ER setting. It was an epiphany for me – someone who thought I could only function happily in a calm setting like a neurosurgery OR theater. I thrived in the ER, enjoying consulting on emergent cases that required fast diagnosis and treatment. It was exhilarating.

The last face I saw after I finished all my paperwork was none other than Christy – the woman who was responsible for my abrupt departure more than anything else.

At three in the morning, there were few staff around other than those of us working the evening and overnight shift, so I didn't have a big send off. Instead, I popped into the staff room on my way out, my bag over my shoulder with my laptop and other files of journal articles I'd collected during my brief stay at UCSF.

She saw me from where she sat on the sofa in the seating area of the staff room and glanced quickly away. I wondered why she seemed hesitant to see me and figured she maybe got a hard time from her supervisor. I'd mentioned her name when I spoke with him after tendering my resignation. He said little in response, but I could tell from the expression on his face that he felt she was a busy-body.

Beside Christy sat Greg Watson, one of the residents in the ER. I went over and shook his hand to say goodbye. We'd worked together for a number of shifts and got along well.

"Drake!" he said and stood, extending his hand to me. "Sorry to lose you, man. I really appreciated having your expertise in the ER on the cases we worked on. People with your level of still are few and far between."

"Thanks," I said and took his hand, shaking warmly. "I enjoyed working in the ER far more than I would have thought. If you're ever in Manhattan, give me a call. If you need a reference, keep me in mind."

"Will do."

Then I turned and left without a word to Christy. Before I got out the door, she called out to me.

"Don't say goodbye, then."

I stopped in the doorway, wondering what to say in response. I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself but didn't want to show Greg how upset I was.

"I won't," I said and smiled at her and then at Greg, whose expression was priceless – like he felt towards Christy the way I did.

Then I was gone.

As I drove away and watched the lights of UCSF in the distance, I felt both satisfaction and regret. Satisfaction that I had done a good job while there and truly helped out the ER staff with neuro cases. Regret that I had to leave under such circumstances, but it was for the best in the end.

When I crawled into bed beside a sleeping Kate and Sophia, I felt lucky that I had so much in my life. A beautiful wife and baby. A new family with my mother, Kent and Amanda, plus my other siblings I hoped to meet soon. My existing families with Ethan, Elaine and Heath and his family. The O'Rileys.

Life was good.

A few days later, in the afternoon while Sophie was sleeping, I got a call from Gary Wood, the lawyer who would be taking my case in Manhattan, with a time and date for us to meet to discuss the case. Lara had recommended him from her list of BDSM-friendly and knowledgeable criminal lawyers. He understood the lifestyle and what it entailed. I could feel comfortable talking about my past with him and not fear judgement.

In Lisa's case, I would be a witness for the prosecution and I had to be prepared to face cross examination by Lisa's lawyers, who would try their best to make me look like a bad influence on Lisa – anything to lessen her own culpability in what happened to Kate and Derek Richardson and make her more sympathetic to the jury.

"I know you and Lara have gone over everything that happened between you and Lisa, when you first met her and had those encounters with her and Richardson, back before you met Kate. I have all the dates and times you were alone with her after, when you started working at NYU and she was in the residency program. I want to subject you to the kinds of questions her lawyers will ask you on the stand, so you won’t feel flustered and will know what to say."

I frowned. "I'll tell the truth," I said plainly. "That should clear things up. It's her fucked-up psychology that's the cause of this, not anything I did."

"I know that, but you have to remember you're going to be talking in front of a jury and a judge who are scandalized by anything to do with BDSM, the whole Mr. Grey fan club among romance readers aside. You have to explain things in a way that makes clear you barely remembered her, despite the sexual encounters. We have to make sure nothing you say puts your innocence into question."

"I'm innocent, so I don't see how telling the truth could get me into any trouble."

"That's very idealistic, but it's also very naïve, Drake," Gary said, "but I understand your view. She was young when this all happened—."

"She was a consenting adult of legal age who signed a non-disclosure agreement and a contract with Derek Richardson specifying what would happen when they were together."

He sighed audibly. "I know that, and you know that, but her lawyers will try to make her appear as sympathetic as possible. They'll play up her youth and her tragic past as a victim of sexual abuse, and will claim that you two adult men – into dominance and bondage – preyed on her innocence and corrupted her."

"That's not how it was," I said firmly.

"That's how her lawyers will portray it and you," Gary replied. "An older man who viewed her as nothing more than a willing hole for your pleasure."

It was my turn to sigh heavily. Of course, that's how they would present her.

"That's the way many men view women. Some women like that. I don't judge them for wanting it. I understand the psychology of dominance and submission. This is about a sociopath who tried to kill my wife, who did kill Derek Richardson, and who compelled her boyfriend to kill himself. This is not my fault and it has nothing to do with bondage and dominance but mental illness."

"That's all true, but since you aren’t on trial, I don't want to get into any long-winded discussion of the finer points of BDSM if we can avoid it. It can only make things more complicated. The defense will probably already be calling experts in on the psychology of BDSM and they'll be critical, bringing up other cases where young women have been exploited and have gone on to do things against their own best interest. I don't want you to start arguing the case. That will be for the DA's own experts to worry about. All we want is for you to lay out how you met her, and the extent to which you had any private encounters with her after she started at NYU as a resident."

"Of course. I'll stick to whatever script you think is best, as long as I'm truthful."

"Don't worry," Gary said. "You'll be truthful, but as you and I both know, there are different ways to tell the truth. Some ways will portray you more favorably than others. This is going to do a hell of a job on your career prospects, Drake. I hope you're prepared for the publicity from this to follow you for years."

"I know," I said, a knot in my gut over it. "Luckily, I don't have to worry about money. I can always go into private practice and be extremely selective about clients if I want to keep practicing medicine."

"And if you can't practice medicine any longer? What will you do?"

I shrugged. "I'll volunteer in Africa. I'll volunteer in clinics where people don't have health insurance. I'll volunteer at a homeless mission. Don't worry about me."

"Okay, Drake. I just want you to be prepared for what's coming. It won't be fun. It will be very upsetting and potentially – most certainly damaging to your reputation and career prospects."

"I understand. It already has, so I don't see how this will make things worse."

"I wish I could tell you that things will go back to normal after the trial, but they won't. Not for a few years, anyway."

I frowned at that, because I thought that once the trial died down, I would be able to go back to my life the way it was before everything happened.

"You really think it will take several years?"

"I do," he said. "You could probably get by if you moved away, maybe to Canada or Europe where they aren't as... how shall I say... puritanical about sex. But here? Every hospital will do their due diligence before they hire you and will be reluctant to piss off their donors or board of directors by hiring you."

I thanked him for his advice and we went over the itinerary for my return to Manhattan and what dates we would meet to go over my testimony and a mock cross examination. I said goodbye and sat alone in my office, ruminating on what lay ahead for me – and for Kate. This would affect her as well, for she'd have to leave her studio for a couple of weeks and we'd be without Ethan and Elaine for support and to sit with Sophie when we needed a break.

Instinctively, I knew that what he said about the publicity affecting my career was right, but I hadn't wanted to believe it. I thought my credentials would be more important, but I was coming to realize, with great reluctance, that I was screwed – at least for a few years. Everywhere I went, the trial and scandal would follow me. My only hope to practice was to find a place somewhere that needed me more than it cared about my personal life. Somewhere that neurosurgeons with skills like mine were in short supply and high demand. That somewhere was either in poor rural areas of the country or in under developed countries with few resources where I would be considered a life-saver rather than bad news for potential donors.

It upset me that, through no fault of my own, I was going to be untouchable for a while, but that was the risk I took when I first became involved in the lifestyle. Lara warned me, back in those first weeks that I wanted to learn more about D/s and bondage, that I had to keep my personal and professional lives scrupulously unconnected. I should never ever have a submissive in the medical profession. I should be very careful with whatever submissives I did use. That was the biggest reason that I let Lara find my submissives. She vetted them for me, basing her suggestions on how trustworthy and stable the women were.

She didn't find Lisa Monroe and Derek Richardson for me. I met Derek at one of his private dungeon parties and it was because of mutual business interests that we connected. I did scenes with Lisa because of him and it was not through Lara.

Of course, Lara also warned me off Sunita. She felt concerned about her, but thought she was more stable than she turned out to be. That was a huge regret of mine and hers. It was Sunita who released the video of me caning her. That could be the end of my career. That video had probably already affected my career but I wasn't yet ready to face the truth.

I refused to face that prospect. I'd find something to do that used my skills as a neurosurgeon. I wouldn’t let Lisa defeat me.

That afternoon, Kate was at her studio and so while I was waiting for Sophie to wake up, I spent my time catching up on work for the foundation. While I had taken a serious back seat there, I still had to read over monthly reports from Dave about what projects were being finished, what projects were underway and what projects were in development. There was a mountain of material to cover and I was behind because of my work at the hospital. I rolled up my sleeves and settled in, reading over each report and sending Dave my comments so he'd know what my thoughts were when he went before the board to defend the new projects he was developing.

It was while I was writing an email to Dave Mills that I got one from Ken O'Riley, whom I hadn't talked to since Kate and I left Manhattan. I'd sent him an email earlier in the week to let him know we'd be back in town for a few weeks and that I'd love to get together with him and see the family. Maybe we'd be able to stop by for one of their Sunday dinners.

Drake!

So good to get your email. Of course, we'd be thrilled to have you for Sunday dinner. Anytime – you know you have an open invitation. Mom is dying to see Sophia and Kate – and you of course. If you feel up to it, why not get in some practice with Mersey? We still haven’t found a replacement bass player who knows our repertoire as well as you so we'd love to do a few gigs while you're here. I spoke with the other guys and we're in if you are. We can practice for a week and then get in a couple of gigs, if you're game. Sounds like you have a lot on your plate, but it might be good for the soul to play some Brit Invasion. Paint It Black, Under My Thumb. The Stones seem like a good way to let off steam. Let me know if that sounds like a plan and I'll set things up. You haven't been gone too long so you shouldn't be very rusty. Give Kate and Sophie our love,

Ken

I smiled to myself as I re-read the email, glad I'd contacted Ken. We'd be in Manhattan for almost a month during the trial. Getting in a few gigs during that time would be manageable. Hell, I used to play a few gigs with Mersey when I worked full-time at the hospital and did everything else. It would be no problem if I was there only for the trial.

Of course, I'd stop by the foundation and corporate HQ and do some catch-up with everyone, but I had time to play if I wanted.

Ken,

Thanks for the reply. Of course, I'd love to jam with Mersey again while I’m in Manhattan. I'll have to check what my schedule will be like re: the prosecutor and any testimony I have to give but we can work around that. We miss everyone and look forward to Sunday dinner with you and your family. On that note, I've discovered my other family – my mother remarried and had four children so I've now got more family than I could have dreamed of when I was growing up. Three half-brothers, a half-sister, and a step-father. My mother is ill and suffering from Alzheimer's Disease so she doesn't understand who I am, or remember much but it was good to see her and meet everyone.

I'll let you know about my schedule once I speak with the prosecutor.

Cheers,

Drake

I'd speak with Kate and make sure she was fine with it, although I knew she'd encourage me. She often suggested I try to pull together another band like Mersey while we were in San Francisco. I'd been too busy with my shifts in the ER to do any serious planning for it, but maybe I would work on that once we returned from Manhattan. If I wasn’t going to be working in the ER, I'd have time on my hands. What better way to fill that time than to play music?

I heard snuffling on the baby monitor and checked my watch. She'd been asleep for about forty-five minutes. Usually, she went down for an hour or hour and a half, so I left her alone in case she was going to go back to sleep. While I waited, I surfed the news sites for the latest and was dismayed to see coverage of the suicide of Lisa's partner in crime. I tried to avoid anything to do with the trial and case, but it was making national news and so I faced an uphill battle. When Sophie continued to babble to herself in her crib, I decided to go and get her up.

When I went into her room, she was lying on her back, a stuffed toy in her hand, her pacifier between her teeth. She was making sounds around it and the image of her lying there with the Herb minion from her half-brother warmed my heart.

"Hey, baby," I said and went to her side. "Time to get up?"

She smiled and reached up when I came to the side of the crib. I picked her up and brought her over to the change table to check her diaper. It was wet so I put on a new one and changed her outfit. Then I carried her out to the living room, slipping her into her ExerSaucer so she could play with her toys while I got things ready for our trip to the beach.

When we got home from our trip down the beach to make and destroy sandcastles, Kate was already home and was sitting in front of the television, watching the news. She took Sophie from me and kissed her, then sat with her, watching the television intently.

On the screen was a reporter standing in front of the courthouse in Manhattan. Apparently, Lisa had been indicted on a charge of Reckless Endangerment in the First Degree for encouraging Jones' suicide.

"She was indicted," Kate said, handing a toy to Sophie while I got myself a drink of water. "Apparently, there are letters between them that encouraged him to kill himself."

"She's evil," I said, shaking my head. "They need to put her away for a very long time. I bet she'll be hell in jail and will probably be one of those women who runs the place. Pure sociopath."

I stood beside the sofa and watched the news for a moment, amazed that she had gone from a successful surgical resident to being incarcerated and waiting trial for attempted murder, murder and now reckless endangerment.

I realized once again that Kate and Sophie were lucky to have escaped with their lives.

"Turn away," I said and sat on the sofa beside Kate, my hand on her shoulder. "I don’t want to waste a moment thinking about her. I want to spend my time with you and Sophie."

Kate tore her eyes away from the screen finally and turned to me after changing channels to one of the music stations.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft. "I can't stop thinking about her and what happened. I feel a bit obsessed about it. I'll try not to think about it too much."

"I understand," I said and slid down the arm of the sofa to sit beside Kate, pulling her into my arms and kissing her forehead. "It's morbid curiosity. Perfectly natural but not healthy. As your doctor, I'd advise a healthy dose of making love to your husband to distract yourself from the coverage."

She smiled up at me, her eyes narrowing. "That sounds like a very self-serving prescription, Dr. Morgan."

"It is. It's extremely self-serving. It's a prescription I plan on delivering once Sophie's asleep tonight."

Kate smiled up at me, the hungry expression in her eyes telling me everything I needed to know.

We had a dinner of grilled fish, salad and fresh baguette and spent an hour or so with Sophie, taking an evening walk along the beach while the sun set. When it was time for Sophie's bath, I took over, running the bath and getting everything ready. I loved bath time and if I could, I would always be the one who took over. Kate had been responsible when I had been working and so I wanted to give her a break. Besides, it was fun. Sophie loved her bath and it made me feel like a real father to be so involved in Sophie's day-to-day care.

I held her after she was dried off and in her jammies, giving her a bottle. Her eyes were heavy and when I saw that she was going to fall asleep, I carried her to her crib and put her to bed. Kate joined me and we stood beside the crib and watched her for a moment.

We left the room, turning off the hall light so that the back of the house was in darkness.

"We're lucky she's such an easy baby," Kate said, her voice soft. "I don't know if I would have survived if she'd had colic."

"We would have managed. It would have been a lot harder, but we would have found a way. I do admire parents who have colicky babies, though. Adjusting to parenthood is hard enough, let alone with a baby who can't settle and has digestive issues."

I took Kate's hand and led her not back to the living room, but to our bedroom and the master bath.

"And now, Mrs. Morgan, I gave you a prescription to divert your attention away from other matters. It involves pampering you, giving you a nice warm bubble bath and then a full body massage followed by multiple orgasms. I aim to deliver on my promise."

"You're the doctor," Kate said, her voice all throaty with desire.

"I am," I said and pushed her gently into the bathroom, intent on delivering my prescription exactly as described.