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Gen wouldn't be surprised if he'd contacted the trustees personally, or donated a new wing. Regardless of how he did it, the staff was convinced Noah could now be trusted not to escape his bed. When Dot arrived, he was no longer in the psych wing.
Marguerite accompanied her into the ICU the first time she saw Lyda. The sight made Gen cry all over again. They'd shaved her beautiful flame-colored hair and she had a terrifying line of staples for one head wound. She had bruising on her arms and more cuts, some of which had been stitched. Her left leg had a compound fracture and her right arm had also been broken. But the nurse was reassuring.
"She's a hell of a fighter. The brain swelling is going down way faster than we expected."
Gen swallowed. "Is that..." She nodded to a tube that ran into Lyda's head, with a metal attachment piece that made Gen's skin crawl just looking at it.
"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.
