Page 63 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

"Traci Jackson. Are you drunk?"

Silence. "Traci? Answer me, sweetheart."

"I'm not yur sweetheart. I'm nobody's sweetheart." Sean heard the gut-wrenching sob at the end of her slurred response and his heart contracted as he recognized her pain.

"Ah, Tracy, baby. Why are you doing this to yourself? You should have called me hours ago and we could have talked."

"There's nothing to talk 'bout. Figures I'd fall for a guy who lives a gazillion miles away, and anyway, we both know we're doomed. I can't believe I hurt worse after this conference than last year's. I didn't think that was possible. I'm never going to another conference as long as I live."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. You were the hit of the week. Your presentation was awesome and well received. People were still talking about it days later."

"More like snickering about it days later."

"All right. What the hell has gotten into you? Where is this self-doubt coming from?"

"It's not self-doubt. It's fact. I'm as alone now as I was before I went to the conference, only now it's worse. I saw a glimpse of what I'm missing."

Guilt washed over Sean as he understood exactly where her head was. He knew he was responsible for ruining her hopes of a future with him by messing up so bad during their last night together. "Traci, honey, you're an amazing woman. You deserve the very best man to love you and take care of you." Sean let his regret of not being that man for her seep into his tone.

Her reply was a sobbing whoosh. "I don't want the very best man. I want you!" Her dam had broken as he listened to her sobbing. Sean would have given anything to be there to comfort her, yet as she continued on with her heartbroken rant, he found his anger rising that she was once again putting herself down. "I don't blame you, Sean. You live in the city and have hundreds of women available to you. I bet they are all strong, independent women who don't need an HoH. I don't blame you for not wanting to have to take care of me. I see that now. That's what I left out of my research. How much work it is to be in a DD relationship."

"Traci, I want to have this conversation with you, I really do, but not like this. You're slurring your words. You aren't even going to remember what we are saying tonight."

"The hell I won't. I remember everything you've ever said to me."

"Oh really? Do you remember me telling you how I wouldn't put up with you putting yourself down ever again? How if we were in a DD relationship, that would be my first rule. Do you remember that?"

Silence greeted him before her quiet reply. "I guess it's a good thing we aren't in a DD relationship then, isn't it?"

Sean didn't get a chance to respond before she dropped her phone. In the background he heard her throwing up. Her over-indulgence of alcohol had caught up with her. Sean's emotions were all over the place as he listened to her broken-hearted sobs interspersed with her gagging dry heaves as she had nothing left to throw up. He wanted to comfort her and tell her how special she was, yet as the minutes dragged on, it became clearer to Sean just how much alcohol she had to have consumed to find herself in this condition. Fear invaded next. He hadn't asked her where she was. What if she planned on driving like this?

When the sound at the other end of the phone finally quieted, he waited for Traci to return to the call. After several minutes, he suspected she'd passed out and got his confirmation when he made out the sounds of Traci snoring in the distance.

Sean disconnected the call and sat in silence with his thoughts. It only took a short minute before he sprang into action. He grabbed his leather duffle bag from the closet and threw enough clothes and supplies into it to be away for a few days. The next three days were a long holiday weekend. The safe thing would be to head up to Wisconsin to spend it with his daughter, but he was tired of playing it safe. At the last minute, he grabbed Traci's research paper that had his highlights and questions, deciding it was time he got some answers.

Sean jumped in a cab and booked his flight to Denver from his smartphone on the way to the airport. After his airline ticket was booked, Sean resumed trying to call Traci. The unanswered calls did nothing to calm his nerves.

I'm on my way, Trace. I'm just not sure you're going to be happy to see me when I get there.

Chapter Seven

Traci's head felt like it had been smashed with a sledgehammer. She made the mistake of trying to open her eyes, but when faced with the bright summer sun that filtered through the living room windows, she snapped them closed with a groan.

It took a few minutes of disorientation to piece together the disaster of the night before. As if she needed proof, she cracked her lids open enough to see the two empty wine bottles on the nearby coffee table. The stench of the contents of the trashcan – clearly not far enough away – was a too-real reminder of her stupidity the night before. As bad as she felt physically, she had a very bad feeling she'd called Sean and made a fool of herself, which brought on a wave of regret.

She lay face down on the couch with her left arm dragging on the floor below. As she rolled to her back, she realized her left arm and hand had fallen asleep. Pins and needles pricked her entire left side, shooting well-deserved pain through her body. The shift in position brought a new wave of nausea.

I am an appallingly bad drinker.

The loud pounding on her front door made her head throb as if it were hit with a hammer. The several rounds of the doorbell ringing followed and added to her discomfort. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew she didn't have patients scheduled until after the holiday weekend. That meant it had to be her brother. Considering how he'd reacted the last time she got this drunk, there was no way she planned on opening the door. He had a key now so he could let himself in if he was really determined.

Traci was just about to doze off again when the pounding resumed. The urgency of the knocking forced her to an upright position. As much as she would hate having Troy see her like this, she needed to do whatever it took to make the noise stop. It was killing her head.

Once on her feet, she shuffled to the front door, not even taking the time to check who was on the other side of the wood panel before flinging it wide. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her.

"Sean?"

"I'm happy you're sober enough to recognize me. I've been knocking for over fifteen minutes. I could see you passed out on the couch from the window. Now you come and open the door without even checking to see who it was? What if I was a robber or a rapist?"

---