The Art of Control (22 page)

I wake several ho
urs later to the sound of Carson’s voice stating we’ll be landing soon and that Denver got a bit of bad weather overnight. Isa is looking out the window nervously and smiles over at me when she sees I’ve awakened. I look past her to see a white dusting of snow on the runway and lean over and kiss Isa’s cheek.

We start our descent
gazing at each other. She closes her eyes tightly as the wheels of the jet touch the ground. Knowing she hates this part, I reach over and squeeze her hand. She opens her eyes and watches my mouth languorously and I mouth
I love you
.

Suddenly the
jet starts to skitter and slide sideways. Isa looks frantic and sits upright, looking out the window. There’s ice on the runway and it’s not unusual for this to happen.

“
It’s okay, Isa. We’ve hit just a little ice on the tarmac. Calm your tits…” I start to say, but I feel the jet sliding more and when I look out the window again, we’re veering dangerously close to the edge of the runway. When I hear a loud pop and crack, I know that something is seriously wrong. Carson can be heard calling over the headphones to air traffic control. His voice remains calm and steady, but my nerves are on edge.

His voice comes over the loud speake
r and my heart drops and I damn near have a coronary.

“Young, I think we lost a tire. It’s definitely not ice. I have everything under control.”

His voice is controlled but I can see his movements in the cockpit and his tone doesn’t match his actions. Isa squeezes my hand tighter, sits back, closes her eyes and starts praying out loud.

Holy fuck.
It’s when I smell smoke that I feel real panic and fear set in.

“Carson! What the hell is going on?” I yell up to him.

He doesn’t answer and just keeps a steady hand on the steerage.

“I’ve got it under control. I’
m going to open the door, Young. As soon as we stop, you and Isa get the fuck out!” he yells back.

Isa’s eyes pop
open and she starts to hyperventilate.

“Dylan,
I love you. If we don’t…”

“Stop!”
I yell at her, cutting her off. “Everything is fine, love. I just want you to move fast, okay?”

She nods
frantically, her eyes welling up and glossing over. Her face goes from pale to green and I’m sure I look as scared shitless as she does. There’s a crackling sound and the cabin starts to fill with smoke. Suddenly the door flies open and off its hinges and the smoke is sucked out and the cabin fills with cold air. The sound of the jet engines is deafening. We start to slide sideways and when I look at Isa, her hair is a mess and blowing all around her face, and everything in the cabin is being thrown around. She puts her head between her knees and I follow her lead.

The tires screech
and squeal loudly and we jerk forward as the plane comes to a grinding halt. I don’t wait for further instructions. I unbuckle myself and Isa double time, reach over and pull her towards the door.

“G
et your ass out, Carson!” I scream to him.

The jet engines are starting to wind down but the cabin fills up again with black smoke. We all start to choke and
cough, and I pull the latch for the emergency exit slide. It hisses noisily and fills within seconds and I push Isa out and follow behind her. Only seconds later, Carson comes barreling down, too.

The
wind is frigid and none of us are wearing coats. The snow and north wind are blowing fiercely and I tug Isa as we all three run down the tarmac towards the emergency vehicle headed towards us. We make it about 100 yards when a loud boom and hiss can be heard in the distance. When I look back, Mustang Sally is completely engulfed in flames. The heat that follows whooshes past us and knocks us all to our knees.

Jesus Christ.

***

Isabel

Dylan jerks me up and pushes me into the emergency vehicle. My head aches. I think I hit it on something, but it all happened so fast, I can’t be sure. I’m shaking from the cold and from the adrenaline rush. Dylan looks me over quickly and then kisses my forehead, and I notice blood running down his forehead. He must’ve gotten hit, too. He and Carson start talking loudly at each other and start trying to figure out what’s just happened. Dylan quiets down momentarily and his language becomes garbled and he looks dazed.

As we speed away from
Mustang Sally, I watch her burn down in flames. I never much liked her, but still, she got us here safely before she died. I close my eyes, lean my head back, and listen to the sound of my pounding heart.

I can’t take this anymore. I just need some peace.
Wanting to fly away and not think about Sally or my father anymore, I lean my head back and close my eyes. I look down from above as my body floats up, up and away. Dylan’s mouth is moving, but no sound can be heard.  I float further up into the bright sunlight. Snow is whipping around me and my mother is just in sight.

You’re okay, angel. Everything is okay now. I told you I would see you again.

She’s beckoning me to come closer to her. I see Dylan sitting next to me in the
vehicle, far, far below. He squeezes my hand, but I don’t feel it. I just want all this drama to end. I just want to soar away with my mother forever. Dylan will be fine without me.
He’ll be fine…

I hear my name… soft and whispered. It’s Dylan’s voice, but I just keep
drifting further away. I love you, Dylan… you’ll be fine without me…

“Isa!”

I’m shaken hard and reality hits me like a jolt of electricity, hot and searing through my head. My ears are ringing and I can’t focus.

“Isa! Wake up!”

It’s Dylan’s voice, but it sounds different. Something warm runs down my neck and trickles down my spine.

Holy interruption. Just leave me be. Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?
I say the words, but my mouth doesn’t move. I just want to see my mother again. Where did she go? Mama?

Seeing the frightened look on Dylan’s face hits me like a ton of bricks and I rouse completely. Just as I sit up, Dylan’s
eyes gloss over.  He tries to say something, but only more nonsensical words come flowing out. Suddenly, his eyes roll back in his head, he throws his head back and his body convulses violently.
Oh, God, he’s having a seizure
. I look to Carson for help but he looks confused and scared. I scream at Dylan that everything is alright and that I love him. God, I can’t lose him.
I can’t!

I hold onto Dylan
tightly, trying to keep his head from jerking and protecting his neck. I wad his tie into his mouth, hoping he won’t bite his tongue, but his teeth catch the tip of my index finger and he damn near takes it off. I pull my hand back, ignoring the pain in my head and digit.

The vehicle finally stops and there’s an ambulance waiting. They quickly whisk my Master
away, poking and prodding him. I try to latch onto him but I’m cruelly dragged away as medical personnel invade my personal space. Before I know it, I’m in a neck brace and Dylan is gone.

My vision gets blurry and unwelcome sleep finds me. To my relief, I don’t dream and when I awaken, Sonya is sitting next to me, holding my hand. I attempt to sit up but she quickly pushes me back down gently.

“No, dear. You need to stay lying down. You have a concussion.”

“Where’s Dylan?” I sob.

“He’s resting, too,” she answers but she doesn’t look me in the eyes.

“Where?
I want to see him,” I insist.

“Isabel, you can’t. Not just this moment
,” she insists.

Fuck that.
“I want my Master,” I order.

Sonya looks confused by my terminology.

“Dylan. I want Dylan.
My Master
,” I clarify so she knows it’s not the concussion talking and that I am, in fact, in full control of my faculties.

Just then,
a doctor arrives and starts cranking all sorts of medical jargon that goes in one ear and out the other. All I want to know is if Dylan is okay and can I see him. I’m seriously about to get all Domme up in here if this dingleberry in a white coat doesn’t start listening to me.

“Take me to see my husband
now
or there’s going to be an ass-whooping of epic proportions and I swear to everything unholy you’ll be the one wearing a neck brace when I’m done,” I state forcefully.

His eyes bulge and he steps away from me and Sonya looks thoroughly taken aback at my behavior but I don’t give two
shits.

“There’s no need for violence, Mrs. Young. I’ll get someone to help you.”

“Thank you,” I counter politely. He blinks rapidly and shakes his head at me.

When I enter Dylan’s room, he’s surrounded by two nurses whispering over him, wires, and tubes jutting out of his arms and hands and machines on both sides of the bed.
What the Christ?

My nurse helps me over to his side and the other two RN’s look me over critically. No doubt they’
ve seen the videos. To my surprise, one of them courteously smiles at me and rubs my back while speaking kind words to me. The other, however, puckers her mouth at me and scans me head to toe. I don’t have time for her judgmental bullshit.

I push past her and stand next to
Dylan. Sawyer and the doctor who was talking to me come into the room. When Sawyer sees me, his eyes warm and he comes to my side and hugs me.

“Isabel, it’s good to see you’re okay. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know, the jet went wonky. We thought we hit ice, but there was so much smoke and fire,” I answer, hugging him back and hiding my face in his chest. I stay hidden for several minutes, not wanting to face the horrible reality of what’s happening when I feel warm hands from behind me as I become sandwiched between Sawyer’s and Sonya’s bodies. It’s calming and I suddenly start crying, wondering if this is how it feels to be loved by two kind and concerned parents. We stay like that for what seems like forever, neither of them letting go of me and their mingled clean and musky scents soothing me entirely.

Dr. Dingleberry finally chimes in and informs
me of the horrible news that Dylan’s has suffered a brain injury and he’s in a coma. I don’t hear the rest as my ears start ringing loudly, spots invade my vision and I become light-headed. Dear Lord, I’m losing him.
I’m losing my husband.

Dylan

Warm hands are everywhere, touching me in places they shouldn’t be touching me. I only want Isa’s hands on me, damn it. Stop! Why won’t my mouth work?

“Master
, I love you… I
need
you. Please come back to me,” Isa cries in my ear.

How long has it been? I feel itchy. Someone scratch that itch, right there by my nose. Damn it. Where’s someone when you need a good scr
atching? Where the hell is Isa? And where the fuck is Sawyer?

“I’m right here, Master
. Come back to me…”

My pussycat
sounds so needy. I want to make love to her. Yes, good old fashioned vanilla with a twist. God damn it, my balls itch. Where’s someone when you need a good sack scratch? 

This is complete bullshit. I’m not sleeping. I can hear people talking
about me like I’m not even in the room.
Hello?
I’m right here you douche bottles. Look at me! The bad ass alpha over here! What the fuck ever. Just shut up and let me sleep then.

“Do you know how much I love you?”
Isa says sadly, squeezing my hand.

No, t
ell me. I want you to tell me, Isa. I need to hear it.

“I love you more than life itself. I can’t live without you.
I won’t.”

Sh
e heard me!  Now if I could just move my hand, the right one. Move, hand.

“C
ome back to me, sugar.”

Move… I will it to move.

“He moved his hand!”

I did it…
I moved it… now for my left one… move… I will it to move. Nothing. Damn. How about a big toe? Move you little motherfucker… nothing. Fuck this. I just need to sleep a little more.

What time is it? It’s quiet and dark
. Where’s the light? Isa was just here; I can still smell her.

“I’m here, my sweet lover
.
Right here.
Can you feel me?”

No, but I can smell you
, pussycat. You smell delicious and enticing. I miss your hands and mouth all over me.  I miss your tongue and I yearn to have it caress every inch of me. I miss climbing the curve of your lower back and the taste of your savory sweet skin. Can I wake up now? Please tell me it’s time to wake up.

This is complete and utter
bullshit. I’m bored with this; I have work to do. More importantly, I want to be fucked and fucked hard. And I want to spank, whip and flog my sub. Where’s my pussycat?

Voices again.
Sawyer? I think so. Who else is that? Hey douche bags I’m over here!

Just tell me to wake up, love
. Just say the words and I’ll wake up for you.
Only you, Isa.
I just want to hear you say that you need me and that you can’t live without me. I need to hear it. Give me a reason, my precious angel. Give me a reason to wake up from this hell of being without you.

I haven’t heard Isa’s voice in so long. Where did she go?

“Isabel, Young will be fine. The doctor’s have said the brain swelling has gone done significantly and it’s just a matter of time for him to wake up. You’ve been so quiet. Come sit next to him. He needs you.”

Thank you, Sawyer.

Isa’s warm hands can finally be felt. She feels so good.

“Master… I
need
you. Please come back to me,” her voice cracks.

I can’t
fucking take this anymore. Open your eyes, God damn it. Open your motherfucking eyes, Young!

Slowly, my eyes
oblige and the image of my exquisite pussycat comes into focus. Her eyes widen and tears flow down her pale cheeks, but she remains wordless. She looks gaunt and thin and if it weren’t for her blazing amber eyes, I wouldn’t recognize her ghostly image. I try to speak but my throat and tongue are unbearably dry and only a bullfrog croak comes out.

Sawyer moves next t
o me and his eyes gloss over as he grips my hand.

“It’s about fucking time, Young. You took your sweet ass time coming back around, didn’t you?” he barks with a half-
smile on his rugged and tired-looking face.

Isa moves away from me and sinks into the chair next to the bed, pulling her knees up and watching me from behind them. I try to reach out to her but
my limbs feel like heavy logs and the various tubes and wires prevent me from touching her. I smile at her and she blinks rapidly.

Looking
back at Sawyer, I finally squeak out, “How long?”

“Almost four weeks,” he tells me, reaching for the nurse call button.

What the actual fuck?
Four weeks?
I want Isa to hold me, but a nurse and a physician soon take over and Isa disappears.

I drift in
and out of sleep for the next several hours and when I’m finally able to sit up, Sawyer shows up.

“Where’s Isa?” I ask, mildly irritated at her lack of presence.

“She’s in the lobby.”

“Why’s she there?”

Sawyer shakes his head and frowns at me. “She’s been quite a handful while you’ve been out, Young.”

“What do you mean? Difficult?”

“No, not any more. She was at first, but now… she stopped talking two weeks ago. She’s not communicating at all and she’s barely eaten. She’s completely shut down. Maggie has been here every day, but still… I shouldn’t be telling you this. You need to focus on your recovery,” he sighs.

Christ, my poor baby
girl
. “Get her in here. I want to see her.”

Sawyer nods and comes back w
ith an unwilling Isa in tow, practically dragging her by her upper arm. He brusquely pushes her down into the chair next to the bed and pushes it close to the bed.

“Talk to your husband, Isabel,” he says gruffly.

Isa glares at him and for a moment I think she’s going to throw down with him but instead she looks down at her knotted hands.

“Talk to me, pussycat,” I tell her, trying to draw her out.

She shakes her head and peeks up through her lashes. Her cheeks are sullen and her complexion is ruddy. She looks miserable and so unlike the beautiful girl I married.

“I thought I lost you,” she says barely audible.

“I told you I’m invincible. When are you going to start believing me?”

She stands and moves towards me but just then her phone rings. Sawyer quickly moves in and makes conversation with me, but I keep my eyes on Isa the entire time.

“Shit, Young. I thought for sure Isabel wouldn’t…”

“Was she hurt in the crash?” I cut him off.

“Yes, a mild concussion. About the crash – what the shit happened?”

Isa
doesn’t say anything to whomever she’s speaking to and only listens, her eyebrows furrowed. I didn’t think it could be possible but her already pale complexion gets even whiter. She drops her phone to her side and gasps. I sit up abruptly at the horrified look on her face.

“What is it, Isa?” I ask.

She shakes her head emphatically. “I can’t stay here with you. I can’t… I have to go now.”

I’m confused.
“What do you mean? Where are you going? When will you be back?”

She swallows hard and closes her eyes briefly. “I won’t be back,” she answers.

What the fuck does that mean?
Sawyer stands up and looks questioningly at Isa, voicing my words before I can speak them.

“What does that mean?”

“I have to go now. I’m sorry, Mast… Dylan, but I have to go. Please forgive me…” she cries.

“Isabel Young, you get back over here right now,” I say loudly as she quickly moves towards the door. She halts to my command but then her hand slowly moves towards the door handle.

“Isabel,
don’t
. Get back here,” I repeat even louder.

“No. I can’t do this with you anymore. I almost lost you. I’m
so sorry to leave you like this, but I can’t lose you like I did my mother,” she sobs.

My heart sinks. She’s leaving me?
She’s really fucking leaving me?
Now of all times? When I need her the most? No. Fuck no.
This isn’t happening.

“God damn it, Isabel! You’re not leaving. This is ridiculous. You didn’t lose me. I’m sitting right fucking here. I need you…”
My voice cracks and Sawyer winces at the sound of my pathetic plea.

Isa looks back at me one
last time with the most heartrending look on her face and mouths
I’m sorry
and then walks out.

I jump up, tearing at the tubes still in my arms, but my body doesn’t work like it should. My legs feel heavy and everything around me starts to spin out of control.

Sawyer swiftly pushes me back down in bed.

“Stop, Young! You can’t,” he yells.

“Then go and get her! Bring her back here, God damn it. She can’t fucking leave me!”

Sawyer trots to the door and I wait impatiently for several minutes, my mind reeling. What happened? If she was so broken up about nearly losing me, then why the hell would she leave me? Because she’s fucking selfish, that’s why. She’s afraid of losing me like she lost her mother and instead of thinking about my needs right now, she’s only thinking of herself and the pain of losing a loved one.

Sawyer comes back in minus Isa. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I try to force my legs to move but Sawyer practically leaps at me and holds me down.

“
No, Young, stop! She’s not coming back right now. She just needs some time, okay. Give her time,” he says with conviction.

“Fuck that! I own her, God damn it! She’s my fucking property and I want her back!”

***

Sawyer

This is a nightmare. Dylan is screaming like a four year old about
owning
Isabel.  What kind of craziness is that?

“Isabel isn’
t property, she’s a woman. You don’t own her!” I yell back at him.

“You’
re wrong; I
do
own her. She’s mine. Now get her back, Sawyer,” he bellows, his yells turning into a deep growl.

Finally a nurse shows up and sees Young’s frantic state and proceeds to dose him with something to knock his ass ou
t. As soon as he fitfully falls out of consciousness, I rush to the lobby hoping to catch up with Isabel. Just as she’s making her way into a cab, I accost her.

“Isabel, what the hell is g
oing on?” I say, grabbing her arm.

“
Please, Sawyer, I can’t do this anymore. Dylan will be fine without me. He just needs time. I’m so sorry to leave him like this,
now
, but… just let me go.”

“You’re being completely irrational. This isn’t about
you right now. Young needs you and you’re being selfish.”

“I know it’s not about me.
I know that.
You can think what you want, but Dylan will be better off without me. He’ll be safe now. I’ve ruined his reputation and my being in his life has caused him nothing but grief and anxiety,” she wails.

“Do you think
for one minute that Young believes that?” I ask as she tries to free herself from my grip.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks.”

“Like hell it doesn’t. Do you know how many work accounts we lost because of what’s happened?”

“I can only imagine…”

“None, Isabel. Not one, single fucking account! Now get your stubborn, scrawny ass back up to your husband’s room,” I forcibly say, yanking on her frail arm,

“No.
Let go of me, Sawyer. Please, you’re hurting me,” she cries.

Fuck.
Fearful of breaking her arm, I quickly let go of her, not wanting to cause any physical damage, but as soon as my grip loosens, Isa disappears into the waiting cab and they speed off.

I remain standing on the sidewalk for several minutes, trying to process what’s just happened.
What a selfish little cunt.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel disgusted with myself. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but she’s no cunt. Her actions are selfish, yes, but Isabel is no cunt.

I reluctantly make my way back to Young’s room but, thankfully, he’s still sawing logs. I pull out my laptop and decide to get some work done.

Three hours later Sonya shows up with dinner for me. When I tell her everything that transpired between Young and Isabel, she looks distraught. Maybe Sonya can talk some sense into Isabel. She leaves briefly to give her a call and when she returns, the expression on her face tells me everything I need to know. Isabel isn’t coming back. Not now. Not ever.

***

Isabel

My husband
will be safe now without me. I repeat it over and over until it becomes my mantra. It helps me get through the task of packing my belongings. I shut down completely and move like a robot. No more tears, no more self-pity - my husband will be safe now without me. His frantic and pained expression when I was walking out…
God, what have I done?
No, I can’t think about that.
Dylan will be safe now without me.
Packing only what I can carry, I think only of each fraction of time in front of me and try to remain numb. I make my way to the garage to my car, but decide instead to call a cab. I can’t accept anything Dylan has given me because it will only serve as a reminder of the beautiful, generous and loving man I’m leaving behind. My Master will be safe now without me.