Cardinal's Rule (31 page)

She couldn’t let that go. “Landry, I don’t feel comfortable keeping that from him. It’ll upset him more if he doesn’t know.”

His soft tone disquieted her. “Tilly, please. It’s all right. I’ll tell him when I think it’s best. I don’t want him worried.”

Ah, there is a soft heart in there. Buried somewhere.

Deeply buried.

“He’s already worried about you.” She had enough guilt on her plate to deal with after their weekend cuckold caper. Withholding this information might put her over the edge.

“Please?” He didn’t even sound like himself. His soft, resigned tone didn’t bear a hint of

Masterly command.

She wasn’t all right with it, but she didn’t want to argue with him and stress him out.

“Whatever.”

By Sunday afternoon, Landry still hadn’t told Cris about his surgery. Tilly couldn’t stand it anymore. He laid down for a nap and she took her cell into the office and closed the door behind her.

Cris answered his cell on the first ring. “Til?”

“Yeah. Don’t panic, he’s fine.”

Part of her hated that she recognized the knowing concern in his voice. “What’s wrong? What

happened?”

This was going directly against what Landry asked of her. Then again, he had agreed to follow Cardinal’s Rules. And in her mind, it would be best if Cris were at least kept in the loop.

“First of all, this is me and you talking, not slave and Tilly, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Landry didn’t tell you that they’ve put him on the surgical schedule tomorrow as an add-on.

We have to be there in the morning, and we don’t know when his surgery will be.”

“
Tomorrow
?”

She’d never heard Cris sound like that, the combination of shock and fear. “Yeah. He didn’t

want to worry you, said you have meetings Tuesday you have to be at—”

“Oh, fuck
that
shit! I’ll grab the first plane I can get a seat on.”

“I didn’t call you to make you come home. That’s not what he asked.”

“Tilly, I can’t sit here while he goes into surgery. I just can’t. I need to be there for him.”

“You’ll get in trouble.”

He snorted. “Won’t be the first fucking time, believe me.”

Those were stories she’d want to hear.

Later.

When she could emotionally handle hearing them.

“I just didn’t want you finding out after the fact.”

He went quiet for a moment. “Is he still mad at me?”

“No! Jesus, I wish you two fucking Doms would get your communication shit together.”

Another hesitation. “I’m not a Dom, Tilly.”

No, you were
my
Dom.
“Men. I meant men.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. That’s not what she meant and he damn well knew it, but he let it slide. “Just…I’ll call you from the hospital or send you text messages to this phone if I can’t get away. Okay?”

“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Cris—”

“It’s okay.” She heard the smile in his voice. “It’s my ass he’ll beat, not yours. Thanks for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” She hung up and sat in her office chair as she stared out over her garden.

When Cris called later that afternoon to check in with Landry and update him on work issues

and his progress arranging the move, he made no mention of her earlier phone call. As she lay curled next to Landry that night, long after he’d fallen asleep, she stared at his face. He looked troubled even in his dreams.

Chapter Sixteen

After a mostly sleepless night, Tilly climbed out of bed a little after five and went to work out.

She started to make coffee on the way through the kitchen, then decided against it. Landry could only have a few sips of water, since they didn’t know when his surgery would be, up until seven a.m. It would be cruel to taunt him with the smell of the brew when he couldn’t have any.

Then again, he is a sadist. He might appreciate the irony.

She still couldn’t do it.

After her work out, she glanced at her cell phone charging on the counter. She checked it, but no messages from Cris. Would he really show up?

Of course he would. He was Cris.

She didn’t know how much she could handle today, emotionally. In some ways, it’d be nice to

have Cris there for support.

On the other hand, having Cris there would be a strain on her maintaining appearances.

Despite her repeated offers, Landry insisted on driving. “Allow me this, love,” he said.

“Please?”

She nodded. He also took her small tote bag holding her Kindle, mp3 player, and crossword

puzzle books and carried it, along with his own overnight bag, out to the garage. They arrived at the hospital a little before eight that morning.

As he had before the biopsy, he held her hand and continuously stroked her with his thumb.

They checked in and were shown back to a pre-op holding area where Landry changed into a hospital gown, received his IV, and the wait began in earnest.

It took every bit of strength she had not to check her phone, which she’d put on silent mode, for messages from Cris.

They’d been warned upon their arrival that it might be late afternoon before they took Landry.

By nine-thirty Tilly was ready to slip out to the bathroom and text Cris with an update, but then the surgeon’s surgical nurse came in with the anesthesiologist.

“Hello, Mr. LaCroux. Looks like you get bumped to the top of the class. Our second surgery of the day was cancelled because the patient caught a cold. Dr. Evans wants to take you next.”

Tilly’s nerves neared the breaking point. Landry grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a kiss.

“Steady, love,” he whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

She smiled and kissed him again. “I love you. Remember the rules. You’ll fight to come back to me.”

His beaming grin nearly broke her heart. “Absolutely. And I love you, too.”

She managed not to cry as she watched them wheel him away. On unsteady legs, she found the

bathroom before making her way to the waiting room. How had Cris gone through this alone? Well, he hadn’t been alone, probably. Surely they’d had friends he could lean on for support.

Then again, so did she. She could always call Loren, didn’t know why she didn’t think of that before.

Her fingers hovered over her phone’s keypad. Then again, hadn’t she asked Loren and Ross to

do more than their fair share over the years? After an hour, a cup of coffee, a stale danish from a tray of them in the waiting room, and one update from the OR to let her know Landry was doing fine, she decided she couldn’t be as strong as she thought she was. She pulled out her cell, ready to call Loren, when Cris ran through the waiting room door.

She’d never been so glad to see someone in her entire life.

His eyes immediately locked on her. It felt natural to stand and let him engulf her in a hug.

She’d consider the ramifications later. For now, she welcomed his support.

“How is he?” Cris asked.

“They said he’s doing good. Stable.”

He guided her back to her seat and together they sat without talking, Tilly leaning against his shoulder for a little comfort.

* * * *

The nurse updated them an hour later. Still doing fine, the doctor was just making sure there

were no other places to remove before he closed Landry up. Between that and post-op recovery, it’d be at least another two to three hours.

Cris carried her tote bag for her as they walked to the cafeteria. “Did you eat?” she asked.

“No. I had to change planes in Dallas. I didn’t have time to eat.”

Tilly’s emotions, already stretched to the snapping point, wouldn’t allow her to open up to Cris too much. She opted for a distraction. “What’d you mean yesterday that it wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten in trouble?”

He smiled and looked down at the table. This time not in slavish deference, but in amusement.

He glanced up and around, to confirm no one could hear, and lowered his voice. “I’m not a brat. I never have been. But no way in hell will I sit back and not be there for him when he needs me. One time, I had to fly up to Seattle for a series of training meetings. One of his procedures was moved up nearly a week because the surgeon had to go out of town. I flew home immediately, and as soon as he was able to hold a riding crop again, he tanned my ass.” He smiled. “But then he cuddled me in bed with him all night long and thanked me for being there.”

He played with his coffee cup. “Landry and I have a different dynamic than you and I had,” he said as he eventually met her gaze. “I’m not a masochist. I mean, I know you weren’t either. But I get what I need from our relationship by serving him. If that means I have to endure punishment or painful play, I’m okay with that.”

“You never made me do anything like that. You never punished me. You never hurt me.”

He smiled, but she’d swear it looked sad. “Remember that time you scared the crap out of me

by forgetting your cell phone and you went out all day with Loren to get massages and see a movie?

Neither me nor Ross could find the two of you. She got spanked too, he told me.”

She snorted. “Oh. I’d forgotten about that.” How could she? She couldn’t sit comfortably for two days after he spanked her with his bare hand. That was the only time he’d ever punished her like that. There were times he’d made her stand in a corner for thirty minutes for forgetting to do something like eat a healthy breakfast when he’d told her to, but he’d never used corporal punishment.

How could she have forgotten the fear on his face, followed by relief, then anger, when she

walked in the door that night? How he’d hugged her, desperately, before he dragged her over to the couch, bent her over his knee, and spanked her.

She’d never forgotten her cell phone again. “That’s nothing like he does to you.” She’d enjoyed impact play with Cris, his touch with the implements always on the sensual side, never what she’d classify as painful.

He nodded. “I know.” He took a deep breath and let it out as he slowly turned the coffee cup around in one direction, then reversed it and started rotating it the other. She didn’t speak because she sensed him working up to his next comment.

Some things never changed. That was an old habit he’d had, unconsciously turning his cup or

water bottle or whatever it was in front of him back and forth as he tried to think.

His gaze dropped to his hands again. “If…if I start saying anything you don’t want to hear,

please tell me to stop.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

He smiled again, but didn’t make eye contact. “Please don’t take anything I’m about to say the wrong way. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you. You know what happened. I don’t need to rehash it.” He sighed. “Yes, I went back to him. But I love him. And I’m not an idiot. I know that he still thinks about how I left before, and while he blames himself, he’s only human. In the back of his mind is that ‘what if’ memory. Every beating I take, everything I endure, it’s the only sure way I know I can prove to him I love him. I will take it. Because I love him. As whacked as it sounds, the more I take, the more he feels secure that I’m here for the long haul.”

Even more whacked, now knowing Landry the way she did, she totally understood exactly what

Cris meant.

They returned to the waiting room and…waited. She read her Kindle and put on some soothing

Celtic instrumental music to help calm her nerves. Cris apparently didn’t bring anything with him to do. Finally, the surgeon came out to talk with her. She introduced Cris and was happy to be able to tune out past, “He did fine, everything looks good.”

Tilly closed her eyes, took a deep, relieved breath, and let Cris take over asking the questions. A recovery nurse would come get them once they moved Landry from post-op to a private room.

She’d never found comfort in religion. Not much of a praying person, she closed her eyes and breathed a silent thank you to the powers that be for keeping Landry safe.

Now if he could beat his disease, maybe for once she could have a happy ending.

Anxiously waiting, she jumped to her feet an hour later when the nurse stepped into the waiting room and waved them over. Two other nurses were pushing the bed with Landry in it down the hallway toward an elevator. Portable monitors kept track of his vital signs, and he’d been put on an IV pain pump.

She fumbled for Cris’ hand and held on as they stepped into the elevator with everyone.

Landry’s eyes were closed and if he had awoken in post-op, she suspected the pain meds and residual effects of anesthesia had claimed him again.

After the nurses had him settled in a room, hooked up to monitors and an oxygen cannula, Tilly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead after smoothing his hair back.

He let out a sigh she realized meant he was marginally awake.

“Hi, handsome,” she whispered. Cris pulled a chair over for her and she sat, then reached

through the bedrail and found his hand. “How you feeling?”

“Like someone sliced my guts open.”

“Funny you should say that.”

He squeezed her hand as he managed a weak smile. “No laughing, love. It’ll hurt too damned

much right now.”

Cris pulled another chair over to the other side and reached through the bedrail to hold his hand.

“Hi, Master.”

Landry let out another sigh and Tilly watched him squeeze Cris’ hand long and hard before

relaxing his fingers. “Hello, love.”

Tilly pretended not to see the tears welling up in Cris’ eyes. “How many did I earn?”

She didn’t miss the slight smile that curved Landry’s lips. “We’ll discuss it later. I suspect my wife will lobby on your behalf for me to not punish you.”

“Well, I did tell him,” she admitted. “What? Not like you can beat me or anything,” she teased.

“What shall I do with the two of you ganging up on me?”

“Remember my rules, mister,” she told him. “Do what I say, do what the doctors say, yadda