The Art of Domination (54 page)

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Authors: Ella Dominguez

BOOK: The Art of Domination
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“Look at me, Isabel,” I say, pulling her to face me again. “You’re not
ever
leaving. I won’t say it again. I mean it.”

“Then tell me and don’
t make me ask again,” she says firmly.

Fuck. Here goes nothing
. I swallow hard and try and start from the beginning. I’m not good at telling stories so I just list the laundry list of facts as they happened.


My father was a private contract engineer for the government. Most of his work was extremely confidential or top secret. He was gone quite frequently on business trips, none of which he would discuss. I’ve always been technologically gifted, even at a very young age. It’s been both a blessing and a curse.  I was also very curious, just like I am now. I’ve always needed to know everything about everyone. I would constantly ask my father questions about his work and he would rebuff all of them. When I was old enough and had enough knowledge to hack a computer, I did exactly that.”

Isa is watching me intently, not blinking once. She’s impatient to hear the entire story, but I start humming out of sheer nervousness. I don’t even realize I’m doing it and when I hear myself, I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment.  Isa smiles kindly at me and it’s the first smile she’s given me since the gallery show. She pecks me on the mouth and squeezes my upper arm, prodding me to continue on.

“I found some confidential files in his computer that I’m not even sure he was aware of. I found his government passwords and accessed all of the jobs he was working on. It was all very boring and way over my head, but I kept looking anyway. I just wanted to know more about him. I found several email correspondence with a particular overseas company and decided it would be funny to contact them under my father’s account. It was a stupid and juvenile thing to do, but I just wanted to get back at him for being so damned secretive. The correspondence went on for weeks. Threats were being made on both our ends and I thought it was all just a big fat fucking joke. I would send lewd pictures to them and make disgusting jokes about their wives or mothers or whoever else I could think of. I even looked up personal information about the companies employees and posted it. Christ. I was such an arrogant little asshole. Hell, I’m still an arrogant asshole,” I sigh.

“That’s my husband you’re talking about and I’d appreciate if you didn’t say those kinds of
things about him,” Isa says, trying to cheer me up. She runs her fingers through my hair and her touch relaxes me and I continue.

“It turns out the owners of the factor
were ex-militant and not people that should’ve been fucked with. We were all supposed to go on a ski trip, but I was being a dick and wanted to spend my winter break with friends instead. My parents relented and let me stay home.  While they were gone, one of the executives I was goading put a hit out on my father. I only found that out later when they went missing. Their intention was kill my whole family, but I stayed home and they died instead. My parents died because of me; because of my stupidity and curiosity; because of my arrogance. Jesus Christ. They were tortured and murdered because of me.”

I thought I would feel better admitting this to Isa, but I don’t. I feel worse.
I’ve never admitted this much of the details to anyone. I turn away from her, not able to look into her loving eyes. 

“Dylan, you can’t really believe that.”

“Of course I do. If not for my actions, they would still be alive. When the government looked into everything, they found all of the correspondence I had initiated. They thought someone who had a vendetta against him or the government had orchestrated it all. They questioned me extensively and I denied it all. What I did was illegal and caused the murders of my parents, Isa. I alone am responsible for their deaths. I killed them.”

***

Isabel

My dear
, sweet boy
. Dylan sits up on the edge of bed and puts his head in his hands and lets out the most pitiful sob I’ve ever heard from a man. It wrenches my heart and I kneel behind him and hug him to me.


My whole life has been a lie. People think I’m a genius when I’m really just big asshole who killed his parents. Don’t you see? The Dominant lifestyle appealed to me because of my lack of control after they died. Holy fuck, Isa. I’m a murderer. I killed my parents and they left me everything. They loved me enough to set me up for life and I killed them,” he says softly between sobs.

“Don’t say that, Dylan. It’s not true. What you did wasn’t intentional,” I try to reassure him.

“It doesn’t matter. They’re dead because of me.”

The sound of his voice is completely breaking my heart. I hug him tighter and cry with him. I don’t want this man to hurt. I do
n’t want him to feel like this - hopeless and lost. I know the feeling and when you let it into your heart, it’s all consuming.

“Tell me you still love
me, Isabel. Tell me. I need to hear it,” he says sorrowfully as he pulls me over to his side and half into his lap.

I try to ignore my pain from the sudden movement and let him hold me. He grabs my face and kisses me.

“Tell me, I need to hear it,
please,
” he begs.

“I love you, sugar.
I love you
. I’ll never stop loving you,” I cry.

“But you almost left me. How
can you love me and threaten to leave me? I’d never leave you, Isa.
Never
.”

Tears run down his face and I’m confronted with my cruelty. He’s right. How could I have threatened to leave him? I love him.

“I’ll never leave you, Dylan. No matter what. I’m so sorry I said that to you.”


Do you promise? Because I can’t ever hear those words from you again, Isa. I mean it.
I can’t
. I need you.”

“I promise, Dylan. I promise.”

He buries his face in my neck and his sobs die down. He inhales deeply and his breathing slows.

“I never cried when my parents died.
What kind of an asshole doesn’t cry when their parents die? I loved them, but I was such a selfish prick, I could only think about myself. I was so damned afraid of getting caught, I never grieved for them.”

“You were a child, Dylan.”

“I was 14, Isa.”

“Yes, that’s a child. You were a child
acting childishly. If you knew what the consequences of your actions would’ve been, you never would’ve done them, right?”

“Of course
I wouldn’t have,” he says with realization.

“You have to learn to forgive yourself, Dylan.”

“I can’t.”

I understand how he feels. I’ll never forgive myself for blaming my mother for leaving me when she had no choice. I let him rest against me and I conti
nue to hold him and rock him. I love him so much. I’ve always felt like I was the one being taken care of, but I can see now that he needs to be taken care of just as much as I do. We
were
meant for each other and it was foolish for me to think otherwise.

“I have something th
at belongs to you,” he tells me and wipes his eyes.

He reaches over to the bedside table and picks up something. He grabs my hand and tak
es off my ruby ring and replaces it with my wedding ring.

I smile stupidly a
t him and he smiles back.

“So do we get our happily ever after now?” I ask.

He kneels down in front of me and grabs my hands and kisses the tops of them.


Yes, our version of happily ever after,” he answers with sparkling blue eyes.

“The version
with whips and cuffs, right?” I ask.

“That’s the only kind of happily ever after I want
, love.”

Epilogue

Sawyer

The plan: Get in and out of the hospital quickly, make my way in through the side door, avoid the security cameras and get to Alex’s room. Time allowed: 7 minutes, 8 minutes tops. It’s time for some justice.

Last month
was a fiasco the likes of which I don’t ever want to see again. Cassie and Alex created a mess that needs to be cleaned up so it’s time for the cleaner in me to come out. Isabel deserves justice for what was done to her and Young needs peace of mind. His work is suffering and I won’t allow it. I’ve known him too long to let him down. He’s never let me down. Even when times were tough and I lost my job with the CIA, he was there for me and gave me another chance to prove myself and my abilities.  He stood up for me when no one else would. Isabel’s day of recognition was ruined after Young worked so hard to get it done for her and I won’t accept that. Alex must pay for his betrayal against my good friend. Plausible deniability will be on Young’s side. He didn’t give the order and so he had nothing to do with it.

I park the piece of shit car that I bought with cash, making it untraceable. I put on my fake nam
e badge and adjust my scrubs.

Timer: 7 minutes and counting.

I make my way into the side door, avoiding the cameras and pass several people in the hall. No one pays any attention to me because I look just like any other employee. I keep my head down when I pass the hall cameras and get on the elevator completely unnoticed.

I arrive on the floor where Alex’s room is and again, no
one gives me two glances. I’m pissed and relieved to see there’s not a police officer watching over his room. I quietly enter his room, dim the lights, close the door and put on a pair of surgical gloves that are next to the sink. Then I move next to his bed. I watch him sleep for a few seconds, hoping he’ll wake to see the man who’s going to deliver his final penance.

Time: 5 minutes 30 seconds remaining.

I slap Alex’s face hard when he doesn’t stir to my calling his name. His eyes pop open and he looks confused. When he sees me, he smiles deviously.

“I was wondering when you we
re going to come pay me a visit. It’s too bad Young and his hot little wife didn’t join you,” he says without a hint of mental impairment.

I knew Alex was bullshitting the degree of his injuries. He’s trying to goad me and I’m tempted to knock his teeth through the back of his head, but I stay calm.

He looks me up and down and asks, “When did you start working here?”


I don’t work here. I’m simply doing a job,” I answer, my eyes never shifting from his.

His smile fades w
hen he realizes why I’m wearing scrubs and his face twists into a look of terror. I pull out a syringe from my front pocket, get on to the bed with him and straddle him before he has a chance to scream out. He’s thrashing around, but I pin his arms under my knees and put my hand over his mouth to muffle his yelling.

“Now you know how Isabel felt, don’t you?” I ask him and his eyes bug out at me.

“This is for Isabel and Dylan, you insignificant fuck,” I say as I stab the syringe into his neck.  His yells turn to whimpers and his whimpers eventually turn to gasping. I remove my hand from his mouth and he takes in one last gasping wheeze and stills. I see the light in his eyes extinguish and I pat his cheek.

“Now that’s justice the good old fashioned way,” I say to him.

I look down at my watch to ensure that I have enough time to make my hasty getaway. I pull the syringe out, cover the needle and put it back into my pocket. I slip the gloves off and leave his room quietly.

Time: 23 seconds to spare.

It’s good to know I still got what it takes to get the job done.

When I get out to the car, I drive a short distance to a gas station, change my clothes and place them in a paper bag along with the syringe and gloves. I find a dumpster and douse it with
starter fluid and ignite it. I clean the car and leave it in a nearby neighborhood and walk to the bus stop half a mile away.

It’s time to go home now. When I board the bus, my phone rings.

“Sawyer, here.”

“Wh
ere are you? Isa’s about to start cooking dinner for us.”

“I’m on my way now.
I should be there in about an hour and a half.”

“Great. Pick up a bottle of tequila on your way, will you? Isa has a hankering for a margarita.”

“A margarita sounds really good right about now, but you remember what happened the last time you and I had tequila, don’t you?” I ask.

Young
laughs heartily. “Manila, right? How could I forget? And I’ll thank you very much not to mention that incident in front of Isa.”


You never could hold your liquor, Young, but you know your secrets are safe with me.”

“As are yours. I should warn you, though, she’s invited Sonya. She has this crazy idea that you two should hook up.”

“Hook up?”
I ask

“Those are her words, not mine.”

“She’s older than me isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Nice. I like me some cougar action,” I reply.

Young laughs loudly.
It’s good to hear him happy.

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