Page 39 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

Moving slowly, Hallie swings her legs over the side of the bed and struggles to push up into a sitting position. She has to rest a minute to let her body adjust to being upright. The pressure on her bladder in her new position has her rushing to find the restroom. The bed is so tall; her feet don’t reach the floor. She tentatively maneuvers her body into position to try to ease her feet to the carpet, but her foot gets tangled in the long IV cord, and she has to grasp the pole holding the bag in an attempt to stop her from falling forward. Unfortunately, the pole is on wheels, and too late, she knows what’s going to happen next.

Damn. This is gonna hurt.

Moving like a ninja, Troy springs out of the chair at the foot of the bed and reaches out to catch Hallie, just before she would have face-planted onto the floor. She falls ungracefully into his outstretched arms face first, their chests slamming together, letting her know her first assessment of his athletic body had been spot on.

“Whoa there. You really shouldn’t try to get out of bed yet. We’re pretty sure you have a concussion.” He doesn’t sound like the devil incarnate, but then again, Eddie hides his temper well, too, when he wants to.

Trying to push away from him, Hallie awkwardly informs him. “I really need to pee.” By now he has her stabilized on her feet, and she’s wondering why he isn’t backing off. With their height difference, she finds herself staring into the buttons of his shirt. She tries again to push him back, but she might as well be pushing on a one-ton boulder for all the good it does. He has his arms wrapped around her, keeping her upright.

They stand there awkwardly until Troy uses a finger to lift her chin so she has no choice but to look him in the eyes. She sees him inspecting her forehead and remembers hitting the steering wheel. “How does your head feel today? You have quite the goose-egg, although it does look like the swelling has gone down some overnight.”

Why does he pretend to even care? And more importantly, why is he in here instead of the doctor or his wife? Allowing her anger to return, Hallie confronts him. “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, and I’d like to do it without you pawing me, if you don’t mind.”

She sees a brief flash of something that looks like anger, reminding her how stupid it is for her to pick a fight with a guy twice her size. Under the best of conditions he could hurt her in a heartbeat. In her current condition, he could snap her like a twig. She’s relieved when his voice doesn’t betray any anger. “Okay, so you need to get to the bathroom. That’s fine, but you are gonna need my help. For starters, you have no idea where it is, but more importantly, you’re going to need help navigating there with this IV pole dragging behind.” He pauses to give his words time to sink in before continuing. “Come on, Hallie. Let me help you.”

She gasps. “How do you know my name?”

“Dr. Devon found your purse out in the driveway in the snow. You must have dropped it last night on your way here.”

Hallie doesn’t remember dropping her purse, but then again, she doesn’t remember much from that last leg of her journey on foot. Freezing, exhausted and wet, she had had to dig deep to just keep putting one foot in front of the other to try to get to safety.

She’s happy when Troy doesn’t dally anymore. He reaches out to grab the pole with one hand while allowing her to lean on his other arm heavily. They only make it a couple of steps, though, when they both realize this isn’t working. Obviously, his wife is much taller than Hallie because the long flannel nightgown is dragging on the floor, tripping her up with each step she takes. She has to choose between holding the gown up or holding onto Troy’s arm for support.

Taking the decision out of her hands, Troy scoops her up into his arms as if she were a rag doll. “Oh. Wait. Put me down!”

“Don’t be silly. You’re gonna trip and fall. Grab onto the pole.”

And that’s how Hallie travels out the bedroom, across and down the hall covered in photo frames of every shape and size and into a large bathroom, pulling her IV pole behind them. She wants to scream for him to get his hands off her. She doesn’t want or need help from a guy who takes joy in beating his wife until she cries, yet honestly, at this very moment, she wonders if her memory is playing tricks on her. Surely this handsome guy who is doing nothing but being kind to her couldn’t be the same man from the night before.

Troy setting her onto her feet next to the toilet jars her out of her thoughts. She looks up to catch him looking at her. “Okay, I’m gonna leave you in here, but I’ll be right outside the door so shout out if you need help. Okay?”

“I’m fine. You can just leave.” Her tone is sharp.

Hallie watches him closely, suspecting he’ll get angry, but surprised when Troy instead places his index finger under her chin, lifting her face up to make sure she is listening. Hallie flinches away from his touch and Troy doesn’t push her.

The look in his eyes is so intense. His words even more so. “Listen, Hallie. I have absolutely no idea what’s happened in your life that had you out walking in a blizzard in the middle of the night, but it’s clear you need help. I’m going to give you that help, whether you like it or not. So… use the restroom. Wash your hands. I’ll leave out a washcloth so you can wash your face and then you can call me back in. I’ll be outside the door and then I’d like to escort you back to bed safely.” If she didn’t know better, she could swear he is daring her to talk back. She has every intention to. Who does he think he is?

And then he does it. He breaks into a smile that could light up Times Square. The sexy dimple on his chin peaks through the scruffy beard and she suddenly understands what his wife sees in him. Abusive asshole or not, the man can melt hearts.

“Hallie? Will you call me if you need help?”

Tell him to fuck off… tell him to fuck off…’

“Yes, I will,” is what comes out of her mouth instead.

What the hell is wrong with me? Tell him to fuck off!

The words are on her tongue when she hears his “Good girl.” Two deadlier words have never been spoken. They are her Achilles’ heel. That’s all she’s ever tried to be - a good girl.

Leaving her in stunned silence, Troy moves quietly to the door, closing it behind him. She barely holds it together, letting loose her pent up sobs the second the door clicks closed. She hopes Troy hadn’t heard her from the other side of the wood. She doesn’t want to give him any more power over her than he apparently already has.

Troy flips the bacon before loading the toaster with two slices of wheat bread. His thoughts are all over the place this morning, remembering the events of the last twelve hours. Is it really possible so much has happened in such a short period of time?

After getting Hallie safely back into bed, he’d retreated to the kitchen to make breakfast, but more importantly, work on getting his emotions in check. First Traci and now Hallie. Both women bringing out the protective side of his nature Kathy had been sure to point out was so 1950’s.

For a while there, Kathy had managed to convince him something was wrong with him for being so behind the times. So old-fashioned as she called him. It’s taken him almost a year since their break-up to acknowledge their relationship’s demise had been the best thing for both of them. He’s spent the last year figuring out what was really going to make him happy in life and his move back to Colorado to be closer to his sister… and Eagle’s Pass… was a big part of his journey. He’d met so many couples during his weeklong visit last summer. He’d learned firsthand that he wasn’t the only one that believed in the power of domestic discipline (DD), as old-fashioned as some make it out to be. Old-fashioned or not, he’s seen it make for strong relationships. On the flip side, he sees examples every day in his co-workers and friends how messed up many relationships are without the kind of structure and intimacy DD provides.

It’s easy to get lost in thought as he puts on a fresh pot of coffee. He’s come to the conclusion that he’s a modern man in all things… except relationships. He works with cutting edge technology every day. The kind of stuff only those with a top security clearance like himself are privy to. He drives a new SUV with all the bells and whistles. Loves to snap up the newest gadgets the second they hit the market. Listens to cutting edge, new music of every genre.

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