Malcolm's warm hand turned my chin and lifted it up. "Has he ever hit you? Like Jimmy?"
"Not on the outside." I pressed my free hand to my chest as tears rolled down my cheeks. Just thinking about it produced a pang beneath my breast bone. "But hurt is hurt, right? No matter how it's done?"
"Oh, Daphne. I'm sorry." Malcolm took my cup and set it aside. Then he hugged me. Held me tight against him.
I sobbed against his chest. When I could find my voice, I mumbled, "What am I doing wrong?"
"You need to learn to speak up."
"But I'm a sub."
Malcolm loosened his embrace and stepped back to stare at me. "Have you forgotten all that I taught you? All you've been through?"
What I'd forgotten was how close we were in height. It was hard to think of myself as lower than him when I didn't have to look up at him. I swallowed heavily and shook my head.
"Even a sub has feelings, Daphne. Needs. Desires. You should not feel like you don't exist...or you don't matter. If you are uncomfortable about something, say it. Stand up for yourself. You are not a doormat."
"I had to drug him, Malcolm." I barely heard the words I spoke them so softly. "I had no choice! He refused to listen to me. I had to get some air. And I couldn't—"
"You considered your options and took action." Malcolm's eyes were glossy now. He pulled me back into his embrace. "You should never feel you have to stay in an abusive relationship, even a marriage. Never. Do you understand?"
I nodded. He may have wanted to say more, but we heard Becca calling that breakfast was ready.
The meal was delicious, and I kept my head down while Becca, Malcolm, and Darryl talked about a convention they were going to in November. It was apparent to me that they were trying to distract me from what we knew was coming. I was grateful.
We had just cleared the table when the doorbell rang. Malcolm went to answer it while Becca ushered the rest of us retire to the living room. The dishes could wait.
I fidgeted, clenching and releasing the edge of the cushion with one hand. Becca held my other hand, whispering in my ear to breathe in and out slowly. Darryl stood between the couch and one of the chairs, staring out the windows facing the ocean, his hands in his pockets.
We all gasped at the sound of male voices. He wasn't yelling, but Drake's voice was raised. The sound carried easily to the back of the house. Then it was so silent for a moment, I could hear the clock ticking on the mantel. Or maybe it was my heart beating in my ears.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I half expected Drake to come stomping down the hall. To storm into the room. So I was startled when I felt eyes upon me and I looked up to see him standing in the doorway. As our eyes met, his widened, as if not believing I was really there.
"Daphne!" He stepped forward.
"Wait!" Malcolm said, his hand on my husband's left arm.
Drake did stop, but he stared at me. His slouched shoulders and relaxed hands made him appear to be relieved. Drained from his trip. But I could see his clenched jaw. He was carefully controlling his emotions and his body language. Like an established Dominant.
I cringed, shrinking further into the corner of the couch. Becca still clasped my hand. Her grip tightened as she wove her other arm around mine, her body pressing against me. And I noticed that Darryl had moved closer to my end of the couch.
"Are you alright?" Drake's voice actually cracked as he spoke.
I felt nauseous. Was it morning sickness? Breakfast? Or my husband's presence? I'd never been truly afraid of my husband before. But I hadn't thought of what he would do once he found me.
Now that he was standing in the same room with me...I was just glad I wasn't alone. Was he upset because he had been worried about me? Or was it the fact that I had been able to get away successfully? I prayed I wasn't the only one who considered this may all be a façade.
I nodded slowly.
He looked me over. "Good. Where's your bag? We should get on the road."
I shook my head.
"No, what? You're not packed?" He raised his right hand and raked his fingers through his short hair, his first sign of impatience. "You knew I was coming."
A small voice inside of me said to get to my feet. Literally stand up for myself. But it went against everything I knew. Hell, I couldn't even leave him without incapacitating him first. Besides, I couldn't feel anything beneath my waist, as if my legs didn't exist. The most I could was straighten my back and lift my chin.
Drake's eyes narrowed.
I didn't lower my gaze, which is what he wanted. He wanted me to humble myself before him. I chose to be defiant in the only way I was capable right now.
"Daphne." He was used to merely saying my name and I would fall into line. When I still didn't move, his tone changed to a growl, "Get your bag. Now!"
I pulled mine and Becca's entwined fists to my chest. I could feel my heart beating against the back of my hand. "No."
Drake's face turned scarlet as his eyes widened. "You will do what I say, Daphne! You are my slave!"
"She is your wife!" Becca and Darryl yelled at the same time.
"Enough!" Malcolm's voice was a loud bark.
It made me cringe. I saw Drake flinch. Even Becca beside me seemed rattled
