"Yes." The nurse put a hand on her shoulder. "That's an intracranial pressure monitor. That's how we know how well she's doing, and it helped drain off excess fluid from the trauma. I know it looks scary, but it's one of the good guys. It's helping her."
Gen tried to smile, couldn't. "Her vitals are strong," the nurse said. "The surgeon said her heart is one of the healthiest he's ever seen in his life."
"She's a fitness nut," Gen managed. "She does those insanity workout type of things. Eats horrible, healthy things. She treats sugar and pizza like toxic waste."
The nurse squeezed her shoulder again before crossing her arms over her smock and giving the unconscious Lyda a satisfied look. "She's a miracle, that's for sure. But then, from what I hear, you all are. Somebody's going to be knocking on your door to tell your story to one of those true confession magazines."
Gen didn't care about any of that. She lifted a hand, stopped. "Can I...touch her?"
"Sure you can. Just be real careful of all the things attached to her." The nurse stepped back, giving them a semblance of privacy.
Gen closed her hand over Lyda's, pale and limp on the bed. The mere contact with the slim fingers choked Gen with tears. God. Oh God. Lyda, look at you.
What had the doctor said? That concussions could come with emotional outbursts, mood swings? Like being in a terrible car crash couldn't do that all by itself, right?
She rose out of her chair, Marguerite moving close for support as Gen leaned over to carefully touch Lyda's cheek, her cracked lips. It almost broke her down all the way then, being so close to that beloved visage, seeing it so slack and unaware.
Don't be such a girl.
She could hear Lyda saying it, imagine the glint in her silver eyes.
"Noah's okay," Gen said, clearing her throat with determined effort. "I know you want a full report. I can take care of him and me until you can, so you don't need to worry about that. Tyler or Brendan will be with him when I'm not. Brendan's barely left his side. I didn't realize they were such good friends. I don't know anywhere near all the things that I want to know about both of you."
Taking a shaky breath, she touched her Mistress's jaw, felt the reassuring pulse. "That car hit us where you would take the most damage. No one's going to tell me that was dumb luck. You're so damn heroic, just like him. I want you both to work on that. Would it kill either of you to be Joe and Jane Average? Like me. Nothing wrong with the occasional pizza or being afraid of heights. It would be a lot easier on my nerves if the two of you realized that. I can't lose you. Not now or ever. I know you think it's the stress talking, but I'm in love with you both. Maybe we're only at the beginning of what that means, but it doesn't make it less true."
She baptized Lyda with a few more tears, wiping them off her face gently. Then she kissed her cheek, holding the pressure there a long, yearning moment. "I have to go now, because they only let us visit for a little while, but you wake up soon, okay? We both need you. That's the way this works. Maybe Noah and I can visit together next shift. I know you won't feel all right until you see him. He really is okay. As beautiful as ever. The nurses are already fighting to give him a sponge bath. He'll be the cleanest patient in the whole hospital."
Marguerite made a meaningful noise. Gen lifted her head. M gestured to the nurse, who was tapping her watch with kind but firm purpose. "Okay." Gen glanced back down at Lyda. "You rest and get all better. The world can't run without you."
She leaned down once more, pressed her lips to Lyda's mouth. "I love you," she whispered. "Just wake up, so you can tell me and Noah if you want to love us back. Either way, we need you to wake up."
Chapter Fifteen
Lyda woke up two days later. When Gen and Noah were discharged, they stayed at the Gatlinburg guesthouse. Dot's friend had cleared its schedule and made it available to them as long as they needed it. As soon as Lyda was moved out of the ICU, one or both of them was always in Lyda's room, taking shifts to help care for her as she got stronger. Three weeks later, after endless tests, the neurosurgeon confirmed there'd been no permanent brain damage and Lyda was cleared to return home, transferred to the care of a Tampa area physician during her recuperation.
As Gen had predicted, Lyda was a horrible patient. Irritable and unpredictable as a wounded cat, Lyda was on the hit list of every nurse on the floor by the time she was discharged. Gen suspected they threw a party when Lyda was wheeled out the door, even though she and Noah had done their best to smooth over her prickly moments.
It was ironic that a woman who made Gen and Noah do things large and small when she was at full strength was so impatient having things done for her when she was helpless to do them for herself. But Gen understood it, and not just because she valued her own independence, or because she'd seen the same qualities in Marguerite. When Lyda told Noah to bring her coffee, or had Gen prepare her dinner, that was a mutual pleasure. Lyda enjoying her powers as a Domme also satisfied Noah's craving to be submissive, and encouraged Gen's fascination with exploring how far it all went for her. Having to actually rely on someone for help? An entirely different matter.
Throughout all of it, Noah was predictably tolerant, enduring any tantrum or the sharpest cut from Lyda's tongue, for that was his way. But Gen wasn't built of the same stuff, and the time came when she'd had enough.
It happened the day Lyda refused to take any pain medication, despite the fact she was in such distress she was trembling, her limbs jerking in a way even their formidable Mistress couldn't control.
A red haze crossed Gen's gaze, and before she could stop herself, she slammed the bottled water down on a table. "I get it. You're the World's Most Invincible Bitch. But could you pull your head out of your egocentric ass long enough to realize how much it hurts us to see you in pain?"
Lyda was on a day bed they'd set up on the outside porch, so she could enjoy the landscaping of her backyard instead of staring at the four walls or enduring hours of daytime television on the couch. Gen stabbed a finger toward the nursery, where she knew Noah was supervising the other employees, tending the stock.
"The guy that doesn't sleep because of his own demons has done nothing but bust his ass for you since you woke up. Oh, after saving your life, by the way. And just because you know he'll take any level of shit from you does not give you the right to shovel it on his head because you can't spring up like goddamn Lazarus from the dead. What difference is there between Elias kicking him physically and you doing it emotionally, just because both of you know he'll take it?"
Lyda's face whitened at that. Gen didn't bother to curse when she saw Noah appear at the opening to the porch, choosing that inopportune moment to check in and see if they needed anything. But she was on a roll. She wasn't stopping now. Emotions erupted like lava from a volcano, accumulated from the first day Lyda had woken up and it had started to look like she was going to be okay. As long as she cared for herself properly, that is.
"If you can't have the decency to do that, then think about this." Gen leaned over, inches between their two angry faces. "You can't start moving around the way you want until you're better. These pills will help with that. Listening to the doctors will help. God forbid, listening to us peons will help. You want to stay in this bed even longer, you want to get worse, ignore them and ignore us and keep doing everything your way. Because it's all about you anyway, right?"
Noah laid his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged him off, stabbed another finger at Lyda. "You don't care how scared we were of losing you. It never occurs to you that we hover too much because we wake up ten times a night, having a nightmare about you slumped over that goddamn steering wheel, not knowing if you were alive or dead. If any of us were going to live through it."
Lyda stared at her. She was still pale, but spots of color were high in her cheeks. Clearing his throat, Noah lifted the bottle of water from the side table. His other hand stayed on Gen's lower back, fingers stroking, sending a simple message. Easy. It's okay. She was shaking, tears thr
eatening.
Lyda pressed her lips together, then she shook her head at Noah. As he lowered the water, she lifted her unbroken arm. "Come here, fierce rabbit."
Gen wasn't sure she was in the mood, but then Lyda's eyes did that thing they hadn't done since she'd woken up. She got that Mistress look, and a million things speared through Gen, breaking her to pieces and putting her together at the same time.
"I said come here."
Gen closed the distance, stepped into that armspan. Then she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her upper body curled against Lyda's, because she'd pulled her down so Gen was lying against her breast. Lyda wrapped her arm around her back, rubbed Gen's hip. "It's okay," Lyda soothed.
Her chin brushed Gen's temple as she gestured Noah close as well. When he knelt next to the bed, laying his hand on Gen's leg, Lyda ran her knuckles along his cheek. He gripped her hand, pressed his lips to it. Lyda's eyes became suspiciously bright. "My pets," she murmured. "My friends." Her gaze shifted to Gen, back to Noah. "My family. I'm sorry. I'm very bad at this."
"Understatement," Gen said. "Selfish bitch." Her arms tightened around Lyda as she said it. Lyda pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
"I warned you about that at the beginning, didn't I? Now, you said something about it being time to take my pills."
Gen pulled it together, though it took a couple deep breaths. Swiping at her wet cheeks, she rose and retrieved the meds. Noah unscrewed the water bottle. Lyda held out her hand for the pills, as imperious as a queen who'd demanded them all along.
Gen placed them in her palm. Lyda swallowed them, then opened her mouth wide, as if suggesting Gen would want to verify she'd taken them. Eyes narrowing, Gen made a point to bend down as if she was looking. Lyda snapped her jaw shut, gaze sparking. But Gen saw the haze of weariness take her features. Sitting up for a half hour could still wear her out, so an intense fight like that, short as it was, had drained her. Gen felt a twinge of guilt, but given that it had seemed to clear the air somewhat and her point about Noah had been received loud and clear, she couldn't really regret it.
When Lyda slid down gingerly, adjusting her body to accommodate all her aches and pains, Gen arranged the blankets around her, putting pillows where she knew it would help her to be propped.
"I snore when I'm on my back," Lyda muttered.
"Like a freight train," Gen agreed. "It keeps us from having to use a baby monitor. We can hear you in the kitchen."
Lyda shut her eyes, ignoring her. Gen glanced at Noah and stopped, catching a serious look on his face hard to decipher, but unsettling in its intensity. Before she could delve into that, he'd turned and left, headed back to the nursery. Lyda's hand settled on her arm, squeezed.
"Fierce rabbit," their Mistress said. A few moments later, she was asleep.
*
That was the turning point. Lyda improved even faster from there forward, especially when Noah planted the brilliant idea of treating her road to full recovery like workout and diet goals. Though her broken and battered body wasn't quite as willing to cooperate with Lyda's manic exercise zeal, the change in focus did give their Mistress a pseudo-sense of control of her healing process. It toned down some of her irritation.
Since their argument, Lyda had also treated Noah with such gentle courtesy Gen almost suggested she backtrack a bit into bitch territory, since she sensed it was kind of freaking him out. Or maybe that was whatever was preoccupying him since that day. She tried to get him to talk about it, but he shook his head, told her it was fine.
She wasn't Lyda. She couldn't make him talk when he didn't want to do so, and Gen had seen the dark terrain inside Noah even Lyda couldn't infiltrate. She knew Lyda wasn't yet strong enough to delve into that realm, no matter what Lyda thought. So Gen had to settle for hoping that, whatever was going on, it didn't fall in that territory.
They stayed busy enough she couldn't turn her full attention to it, regardless. In addition to Lyda's care, she and Noah were running the nursery. As she gained strength, Lyda gave them instructions on this or that from a wheelchair or crutches, but it still made for busy days. Marguerite had hired a part-time girl to cover at Tea Leaves, a Zone submissive who was a friend of Chloe's. Gen felt guilty about it only as long as it took for Marguerite to set her straight.
"Lyda and Noah need you right now. Family comes first. Your job is here, if and when you want it. Always."
If and when. Working at the nursery, Gen started to have an idea of why M had put it that way. As she did the books and she and Noah worked to cover things, it was as if she'd always worked there. She liked learning about plants. Though he'd told her of his horticulture studies, she was still surprised how much Noah knew about it, how much he'd enhanced his knowledge with Lyda's, and so she learned from him as well.
Once Lyda was strong enough to motor around in her all-terrain wheelchair, Gen particularly liked looking out the office window to see her directing Noah and her other employees in daily tasks.
As their Mistress's body started to recover fully, so did her intuition. Several times Gen caught Lyda watching Noah the same way Gen did, with pensive consideration. Or maybe she wasn't thinking about what was going on with Noah as much as with herself, because once or twice Gen had caught their Mistress looking at her that way as well. Which could be a good or not-so-good thing.
Because she wasn't sure she was ready to know which, Gen didn't push it. But she knew the day would come when it couldn't be avoided anymore. She had a feeling that wreck had been a turning point for all of them.
*
It was midafternoon. Noah and the others were out on deliveries and job sites. Gen was watering the potted plants around Lyda's patio. Lyda was at the patio table, working on some orders. Gen watched her in the corner of her eye. She now had a short crop of red hair. Still not long enough to have any style to it, but it enhanced the sculpted beauty of Lyda's face, the strong character there, the slope of cheek and piercing strength of her gaze, which rose as Gen spoke.
"Noah said Mr. Bergais really liked the oleanders. He misses you delivering them, though, and hopes you'll be back on your feet soon." Setting the watering can aside, Gen came to sit on the patio edge. Though Lyda used a cane more now, she and Gen had a deal that she used the all-terrain chair to move over the uneven ground in the backyard and nursery, so she was pulled up to the patio table in it. Gen's position put her right by the foot. Reaching out, Gen fingered the petal on a spray of lilies, but that wasn't what she wanted to touch. Lyda was out of the cast, her leg bearing two oblong scars from the compound fracture. Since Lyda was wearing shorts, Gen thought about reaching out, tracing those scars. Touching the skin around them.
"He's a nice man. One of my first customers." Lyda put her hand on the side of Gen's face, let her knuckle trail down to her lips. Wondering if Lyda had picked up on her thought, Gen looked up at her. The rest of her stilled for a different reason.
Lyda wasn't given to a lot of affectionate gestures before the accident, but she'd started to do more of them since. Perhaps as a substitute for sex, or maybe because of the change in their relationship. But as nice as that possibility was, the way she was touching Gen now wasn't driven by affection.
Lyda studied her. "I've been watching Noah dig, haul water and sweat in his jeans, sometimes with the T-shirt, sometimes without. Just now, I felt like eating you alive when you were on all fours, pulling up weeds around my petunias. Noah's been watching you with that same kind of hunger. He's also tried his best not to look down my shirt when I'm in this chair, as if somehow he's required to stop showing sexual desire for his Mistress until she says he can switch it back on again." Her lips curved in a tight smile. "It pissed me off, but I get he was trying to be considerate, so don't fuzz up, rabbit. He hasn't been touching you, has he? You've been switching out sleeping in the guesthouse, one of you on the couch, watching over me."
"It seemed the way it should be. Didn't seem right, if you weren't a part of it. If you didn't say it was o
kay." The air around them was getting that still, dense feeling to it, the way it did when sexual desire started to limit oxygen. Gen told herself this was too soon, not to push it. Then her Mistress made it clear that she'd recovered enough that it was no longer Gen's call to make.
"My body may not be up to it yet, but I want to watch you together," Lyda said. "Tonight. After dinner."
Gen had been so stressed and busy, she hadn't let herself give much thought to sex, but as Lyda catalogued how Gen and Noah had been inciting her desire, a door in her own mind opened, surprising her with the pictures her own brain had been storing about every opportunity missed.
Like the day last week she'd come to talk to Noah in the guesthouse, and he'd been making himself breakfast. He was just out of the shower, clad in nothing but a towel... Then there was this week, helping Lyda with a bra that clasped in back, since the broken arm still didn't move so well for such things. Standing over her shoulder, Gen had watched Lyda adjust her breasts in the cups, her shorn hair soft under Gen's fingers as she dared a quick stroke. She'd wanted to lean forward, press her lips to the side of Lyda's throat, let her fingers drop even lower, follow those curves, play in the cleavage, cradle her breasts, explore the soft nipples until they weren't soft anymore... She wanted to feel Noah press his firm body against Gen's...
"You're glazing over just thinking about it. Aren't you?" Lyda asked. Gen's chest tightened, heart overwhelmed and eyes stinging at that familiar sultry purr. "I'm goddamned glad I'm not the only one. Answer your Mistress."
"Yes." Gen shifted onto her knees as Lyda slid a hand along her face, under her hair, and brought her up, right to her mouth.
Gen groaned, her hands clasping Lyda's arm, the other touching Lyda's face, stroking over the new growth of her lovely, lovely hair as Lyda coaxed open her lips and teased her with her tongue. Gen's whole body drew in a shuddering breath, making it obvious how much desire she'd been tamping down as things were getting closer back to normal.