The Art of Domination (33 page)

I hold back, not wanting to give in and wanting to be more like Erika. I start to whimper and cry and I feel tears run down my face as
the bites and thrusts.
No, no. I can do this. I’m just as strong as Erika.

I hear Dylan’
s words spoken softly in my ear, “Say it, Isa. It’s okay to say it, baby.”

“Cayenne
…”

Dylan pulls out me and pulls me close to him, cradling me in his arms and rocking me as I cry. I hide my face,
humiliated with my inability to hold out for longer. I’ve never used the red safeword before.
Never.

“I love
you, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay to have limits. It doesn’t mean that you’re not strong, Isa.”

He always knows what I need to hear. I’m exhausted. I fall asleep against Dylan’s chest and to the sound of his slo
w beating heart against my ear like a calming lullaby.

My dear sweet, Isabel,
I love you so much, my little angel. You’re such a blessing to me. We’ll leave very soon, my dear. Things will be different for you and I, I promise, angel. Just promise me you’ll keep very quiet while I go and get a few things packed, okay? Be very quiet and we’ll leave very soon. It will all be different, angel.

My father’s voice is booming as I hide in the closet. You’ll never leave me, you bitch! You’ll never
leave me! I hear my mother crying, a loud thump, and then a blood curdling scream.

I wake up feeling like I can’t catch my breath. My heart is pounding loudly in my ears. It’s dark and I’m alone. I hear a man’s voice that I don’t recognize.
Who is it? Is it my father?
Oh my God. He’s found me. I scream out for Dylan and bolt from the bed. I’m running frantically around the room trying to find something, something, anything. I don’t know what. Where’s that gun? He’s here.
My poor mother -
he killed her. That son-of-a-bitch killed her.

I see a figure near the stairs and I see Dylan’
s gun on the bed stand. I lunge for it and point the gun at my father and pull the trigger. My father flinches and jerks back from the shot. The sound is loud and almost deafening. The recoil tears through my body, making me drop the gun. I’m screaming as I crawl around on the floor, looking for it.

“Isa
!”

He’s got Dylan! I’ll
kill that bastard!

“I’ll kill you, you bastard!” I scream at my father as he tries to restrain me. I’m fumbling around in the dark, kicking and screaming on the floor like a lunatic. I don’t care. He won’t kill me, too.

“I’ll kill you!” I scream.

“Get the gun!” s
omeone yells.

“Isa, stop, love, stop!”

I feel a prick in my thigh and my vision gets blurred… where’s Dylan?

“Papa
no, what did you do to Dylan? Where’s Dylan?” my words are thick and garbled…

Darkness.

God damn it.
I feel the blood oozing from my shoulder as I try and hold Isa down and her struggling slowly subsides.

“Papa no…” s
he whimpers one last time before she goes out completely cold. Murphy and Alex are running around frantically, trying to make phone calls but without any luck. I pick up Isa and put her on the bed. When I go to stand, the pain finally kicks in and I feel a wave of nausea hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m losing blood fast. I wobble to the bathroom and grab a towel. I apply firm pressure to my wound and sit on the toilet stool as I try to catch my breath.
Jesus fucking Christ,
w
hat the fuck just happened?

My poor, Isa; s
he thought I was her father. I stand up, take off my shirt and inspect the damage. I’m glad to see it’s a through-and-through shot and that the bleeding has slowed a bit. Murphy comes rushing in and startles me.

“Let’s go, Young. I’m
taking you to the hospital.”

“We can’t leave Isa.”

“Alex can stay with her. Let’s get a move on. You’re losing blood.”

He helps me up, applies the towel back to my shoulder and helps walk me downstairs.
I grab my coat and meet Alex at the door who reassures me that everything will be fine and he’ll keep a close eye on Isa.

“Watch her breathing and heart rate,” I yell to him as I load myself into the truck.

I recline the seat back and call Sawyer as soon as I can get a signal.

“What the fuck happened, Young? Who shot you?”

“Isa. She was delirious. She didn’t mean to.”

“Is she okay? Who’s with her?”

“She’s fine for now. I gave her another dose of the sedative. Alex is with her. I’m headed to the hospital, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I answer before he has a chance to ask.

“Is it bad?” Sawyer sounds concerned and I remember Isa’s words that Sawyer cares about me beyond work.
Maybe she’s right.

“It’s not fabulous, but it’ll be fine. It was a clean shot. Actually, I’m quite impressed with her aim
considering it was a darkened room.”

“That shit’s not funny, Young.”

“No, it’s not. Look, I know what you’re thinking and don’t. You just stay put and figure things out there. I’ll be fine here. And thanks for sending the cavalry.”

“I knew your stubborn ass wo
uldn’t do it, so you’re welcome,” he says as he hangs up.

We make it to the hospital and I’m dreading
the questions and that the police will have to be involved. I don’t need this shit getting out and making the newspapers. I’ll call my PR people and warn them ahead of time, as well as my lawyers. While I’m getting patched up, I make at least a dozen phone calls.

I don’t know why the hell they call the emergency room the ‘emergency’ room, because I’ve spent the last two hours here waiting more than being treated. Now I have to deal with the police. That’ll be at least another hour or more. I just want to get the fuck out of here and be with Isabel.

Finally, after more than five God damned hours of dealing with this bullshit, I’m finally able to leave, and only because I left after getting impatient with those assholes. I’m loaded up with pain medicine and feeling tired so I take a small nap on the drive back to the cabin.

When we arrive, the first thing I notice is my rental car missing. I see the same
unease on Murphy’s face, though he’s trying to appear stoic. 
Why the hell would Alex have left?
He damned sure better not had left Isa alone. I stumble with my footing getting out of the truck because of the medication and the sling on my arm, but Murphy moves around next to me and helps steady me.
I hate not being in complete control.
This is such bullshit.

I get inside and call for Alex, knowing damn well he’s not here. I work my
way slowly up the stairs and Isa is gone, too.
What the fuck?
I start to feel alarmed. Maybe something went wrong and he had to take Isa to the hospital.

“Murphy, drive me back to the main highway so I can make a call to Alex’s cell.”

Again, I stumble to the truck and Murphy drives like a bat out of hell towards the highway. As soon I see enough bars to make a call, I dial his number. When I hear it click on the other end, I start in.

“Where the hell are you? Is Isa okay?”

“Oh, she’s just fine,
sugar
.”

What the living fuck
… it’s a woman’s voice and not one that I recognize, though it sounds vaguely familiar. I know immediately it must be the woman who’s been causing all this shit.

“If you hurt
Isa, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Shut
up and listen before I get impatient with you and take it out on your gold-digging whore.”

***

I
wake to the feeling of hands on me and my body being moved. I’m groggy and when I try and open my eyes, my lids feel heavy. My mouth is dry and tastes like I ate an ass burger. Just as I’m starting to come to, I feel a sharp slap on my face.

“Wake up you little bitch.
”

The pain startles me awake and I sit up and look around. I don’t recognize the place, but it looks like some kind of hotel ro
om, and a nice one at that. My body is naked and uncovered. I look to my side and Alex is sitting on the edge of the bed, ogling me. Embarrassed, I try and grab the covers to pull over me, but he slaps my hand away.

“No you don’t. I want
to look at you.”

“Where’s Dylan?” I yell at him.

“He’s dead. Don’t you remember? You killed him.”

“What are you talking about? I shot my father, not Dylan.”

“No, you shot your husband, you dumb bitch. Nice going. He went out painfully, too, sniveling and calling your name.”

Oh my God
. He’s lying. He has to be lying. Tears well up in my eyes and I start sobbing, but Alex slaps me even harder.

“Shut the fuck up,
” he says low and harsh.

“You’re lying. You’re lying!”

“Don’t you wish that were true? You killed your husband, you stupid cunt.”

“No. No…” I start crying again but he grabs me by my hair and forces me onto my back.

“I told you to shut the fuck up. If you don’t close your mouth right now, I’ll shut it for you. One guess what I’ll fill it with.”

I
instantly shut up, knowing what his lewd suggestion is. 

“I hear you like that sort of thing. Is it true? You like it rough?”

I stare at him and remain silent. 

“Why are you so quiet all of a
sudden? You were screaming last night when your husband was banging you, so why so quiet now?”

Dear Lord, h
e heard me.
He releases my hair and runs his large rough hands over the top of my breasts and then pinches my nipples hard. I close my eyes and try to float above myself, dreading what comes next, but I feel it again - a hard slap to my face and it brings me back to reality.

“Stay with me. I want you to see what I’m doing to you.”

“Please, Alex, don’t do this,” I plead with him.

“
Please, Alex…” he mocks in a high-pitched voice and mimics a pouty face.

His eyes are cruel and
I flashback to my father and the same cold stare he used to give me
. Who is this man? What have I done to make him so angry?

“You’re a ho
t little number, aren’t you? No wonder that asshole you were married to liked to fuck you. I think I’ll enjoy fucking this little body, too. How about it? You want me to fuck you? I hear you like it in the ass.”

“Go to hell!” I scream at him.

“I will, and I’ll take you with me and make you my little demon slut. How does that sound?”

“You’re sick. You need help.”

Again he smacks me and I hear my jaw creak under his hand and my vision goes fuzzy for just a moment. My cheek feels hot and swollen and I taste my own blood in my mouth.

“You’ll be begging me to fuck you when I’m done with you.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can.”

A phone rings and he jumps off the bed. I try to bolt, but I realize my ankles are tied to the bed legs. I start fiddling with them, but Alex puts the phone down and backhands me again.

I hide my face in the bed, trying not to cry.

“Where the hell are you? She’s here. Did you talk to him yet?”

Him?
Dylan? Maybe I didn’t really kill him.
Oh God, what’s if it’s true?
I could’ve sworn I shot my father, but what if it was really Dylan. I was so out of it and it all seems so unclear now. I start to cry at the thought.

“Get your ass back here, already. I need your help with this bitch. Y
our plan better work. I gave up a good job for your promises, so make it happen!”

Who’s he talking to? When he hangs up, he flips me onto
my back again and straddles my chest, pinning my arms down under his knees. His crotch is only inches from my face and I turn my head to the side.

“Now where were we?” h
e says, starting to unbuckle his pants.

No, no, no.
This is not happening
. I start to thrash around and manage to pull my arms free. When I take a swing at him, it catches him off guard and he falls off of me. I lean over and start scratching at his face and screaming. He’s much bigger than me and he pushes me back and punches me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me and effectively putting a stop to my attack on him.

I try
to catch my breath but I sound like an old wheezy engine as I cough and choke. He’s out of breath too and I got him good across his cheek. He runs into the bathroom, yells loudly and there’s a loud thud.

When he comes back out, he looks much angrier than he did before. In fact, he looks like he want
s to kill me. He walks quickly towards me and pulls me to him by my hair. I grab his hand that’s holding my hair to try and get away from him.