The Art of Control (30 page)

W
hen we enter the house, the first thing I hear is a man’s voice screaming obscenities. There’s no doubt who the voice belongs to and I run in the direction of the screeching with Sawyer two steps behind me.

Entering the room, I’m horrified to see Isa standing over her father with a gun in her hand
. It’s cocked and she’s within point-blank range with it aimed at his head.
Fucking hell.
Mr. Ibanez sees us and he seems relieved, which is ludicrous considering all three of us want him dead. Isa’s gaze doesn’t waver, but she addresses us.

“I wish you hadn’t come, sugar.
I told you I have everything under control.”

“I
can see that. What do you think you’re doing, Isa?” I ask sternly.

“
I’m taking care of my own dirty work.”

I’m fighting my own emotions to run and protect her even though it’s obvious she’s
doing a damn fine job of it herself.

“
What dirty work is that, love, and where did you get the gun?” I ask, moving closer to her.

“Papa
has to pay for what he’s done. The gun belongs to him. It’s probably the same one that killed my mother.”

“Yes, you’re right, he does need to pay, but not like this,” I reply and Isa cocks her head to the side as if thinking over my statement.

From t
he angle I’m standing, I can’t make out her facial expression so I move around in front of her with her father in between us. When I move behind Mr. Ibanez, I see that his hands are tied behind his back in a decorative knot that reminds me of the night she demonstrated her Shibari skills on me.

“You did
a nice job tying him up,” I comment in an attempt to distract her.

I finally look at her face and I’m
dismayed to see blood splatter all over it as well as covering the entire front of her shirt.
She really did kill Simons.

“Where is Simons?” I ask.

“In Papa’s bedroom.”

Isa’s v
oice remains silky and calm, but the look on her face is frightening. The woman holding the gun isn’t fearful or intimidated; the woman standing in front of me right now is Mistress Isabel.

“Why is he there?”

“Because that’s where he dragged me when I came to visit Papa. He said we were going to make a sex video of our own.”

I clench my jaw thinking about what might have transpired. I’m starting to think maybe he deserved to die.
Perhaps?
Yes, he did deserve to die; I just wish it hadn’t been Isa who took his life. Sawyer goes trotting off upstairs I assume to find Simons’ body.

“Talk to me, Isabel. What happened with Simons?”

“This stupid little bitch shot him, that’s what! She’s finally lost her mind!” Mr. Ibanez screams.

“He was going to rape me, P
apa. Don’t you even care that he was going to do something horrible to your only child?” she asks, her calm exterior starting to waver.

“Isabel,
speak to me, not your father. Tell me what happened,” I prod.

“I came to visit P
apa. I want you to know that I had no intention of any of this happening. I just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. I wanted to make him understand that even though he had done all those horrible things to me, I was willing to forgive him if he would only say he was sorry for what he did to my mother. I wanted him to deal with Simons for what he had done to you and Sawyer. It was naïve and stupid of me to think that I could talk sense into either of them. I just wanted to believe…” she sniffs, the gun trembling in her hands. “I just wanted to believe that there was some part of him that loves me. I just wanted him to say sorry.”

***

Sawyer

Si
mons isn’t dead, he’s just stunned. No major vital organs are hit and, unfortunately, he’ll live. Other than Young, no one has ever put themselves in danger for me the way Isabel did by coming here. Standing over Simons, I’m tempted to finish the job after what he’s done to the three of us. Instead I go back to find Young trying to talk Isabel down. Her voice is distressing as she tells him she just wanted her father’s love and for him to say sorry.

Yes, it was naïve of her to think t
hat would ever happen. Creeping up close behind her, I think maybe,
just maybe
, I can sneak up, bear hug her and get the gun out of her hands, but when I see the gun is cocked, my plan is dashed. Young looks over at me and shakes his head
no
at me and that’s when Isabel realizes I’m in the room.

“Is he really dead?”
she asks me.

“No, doll
, he’s just injured. If you give me the gun, we can all leave here and everything will be okay,” I try and convince her.

“No
, it won’t. He almost killed my Master and you. He’ll get better and he’ll try again.”

“No, Isabel, he won’t,”
I lie, but I know she’s right.

All of the color has drained from Young’s face and his hands are fisted at his sides
, his knuckles are white. He’s watching Isabel intensely, the gears in his head turning as he tries to find the words to say to her.

I
sabel steadies her gun and beseeches her father, “Say you’re sorry, papa. Please, say it. Say you didn’t really mean to kill my mother. Tell me you didn’t know what you were doing all those years you abused me. Apologize for letting the world see me with my husband in the most intimate of ways. Say you’re sorry for making me childless. Tell me why you hate me so much,” she starts to cry.

“That’
s never going to happen because I never abused you. You’re a lying little whore who would have the whole world believe you’re the victim, wouldn’t you? I gave you a good life and this is the thanks I get? You’re just like your ungrateful, whoring mother. You’re probably not even my child!” he shrieks cruelly.

When I hear a sob escape from Isabel’s mouth, m
y anger boils over and I reach over to strangle the life out of him, but Young beats me to the punch, literally.

He briskly backhands Mr. Ibanez and roa
rs, “You worthless bastard, how dare you call my wife a liar. How dare you say Isa made up all of those unspeakable things!”

And just like that, the old Young I used to
know is back with a vengeance - the Young who doesn’t take shit from anyone - the Young who takes without asking. It’s good to see he’s grown his balls back.

“You deserve to die for what you did to
my wife and her mother,” he continues.

“I didn’t do a God damned t
hing and you’ll never prove it, so fuck you! This world is better off without her anyway. It’d be better off without Isabel, too. You think I’m afraid of you?” he blurts out.

“
I could kill you for saying such an abominable thing about my wife. You should be afraid,” Dylan snarls with a murderous look in his cool blue eyes.

“Well, I’m not.
Your wife
is out of her talentless head. She’s a crazy bitch who’s going to be locked up for the rest of her life after what she pulled here today and there’s not a damned thing you and all your money can do about it!” His lifeless eyes shift from Young to Isabel and his verbal assault continues. “You want to know why I hate you so much? Because I never wanted you. I never wanted your worthless mother either, but she went and got pregnant. My life would’ve been so much better without the two of you. With my family’s wealth, I had everything I ever wanted within reach and she ruined everything. They took me out of their will for having gotten her pregnant out of wedlock. I was 19 years old and forced to marry that slut you called a mother to stay in their good graces and make my own way, and you’ve done nothing but reminded of the horrible mistake I made by fucking and marrying her,” he hisses.

H
aving heard enough of her father’s bullshit and hearing the gut wrenching whimpers coming from Isabel as her hands tremble, I can’t take anymore. My wound is throbbing, my ears are ringing and I can’t bear witness to this man’s vile treatment of Isabel any longer. I’m two seconds from snapping this cocksucker’s neck.

“Seriously, shut the fuck up,
you stupid old man before I shove my fist down your throat,” I growl through clenched teeth.

“Enough!” Isa screeches loudly over the top of all our voices. “
I’m not a damsel in distress who needs help. He killed my beautiful, loving mother and he refuses to take responsibility for his actions towards the both of us. No one can say I didn’t give him a fair chance to make things right. This situation is going to be dealt with for good, right here, right now. I’m done with it. Now both of you move out of the way, I don’t want to get any blood on you,” she says steadfastly.

Oh, fuck.
This isn’t good and by the alarm on Young’s face, he knows it, too. Just then, a strange thing happens: He pushes his shoulders back, his stance shifts subtly, his eyes dilate and he takes on a whole new persona – one of which I’ve never seen before. The powerful aura he’s putting out sends cold chills down my spine and I take a step back to avoid the shockwave of his explosion.

“Isabel…” he says firmly,
“who’s your Master?”

Without hesitation, Isabel responds, “You are.”

“I’m telling you right now, this isn’t going to happen. I know you want it to, but it’s
not. Going. To. Happen,
” he mutters through gritted teeth.

Young’s eyes are narrowed down to mere slits and his jaw is clenched so tight he could put a
pitbull to shame.

“But he deserves to die for what he’s done,” she says softly.

“Yes, he does, but I already told you, not like this and I’m not going to repeat myself again.”

Isabel
’s hands start to shake again and I think whatever dynamic is going on between the two of them just might work until Isabel pushes her shoulders back, stands up straighter and adjusts her stance, too.

“And I’m not going to repeat myself
, so move out of the way or I’m going to get blood all over your Gucci suit,” she says defiantly and without a hint of timidity.

What the fuck is going on here?

“Isabel Young, you know wh
at happens when you challenge my decisions, don’t you?” Young asks, lowering his head and glaring at Isabel with heated eyes.

“I’m not challenging you, Master, I’m taking control. If you’re threatening to punish me, then so be it.
Feel free to punish me all you want when I’m finished. But just so we’re clear, I
am
finishing what I started,” Isa counters in a jarringly smooth voice.

All 5’2”
of Isa is more tenacious than any man I’ve encountered who is twice her size, and I’m in awe of her willpower in light of the fear-provoking look on Young’s face. I’ve never seen anything like this.
Ever
.  The power struggle going on between the two of them is sexy as fuck and terrifying as hell and all I can do is stand like a complete idiot watching them, my eyes darting back and forth between them like I’m watching an intense tennis match. Who will win? My money is on Isabel. Correction,
Mistress Isabel
.

Suddenly, something happens that I never thought I’
d see in my lifetime – Young backs down, but not in a way that signals he’s giving up or giving in. He does it in a masculine way that demonstrates how much Isabel means to him and how dire he realizes this situation is. His voice evens out and he softens his tone, his eyes becoming kinder.

“
I understand about wanting control, Isa; I’m a Dom. But control is an intangible thing and elusive at best, and though it may seem like I’m in control at all times, that doesn’t mean I don’t struggle trying to maintain that front. Don’t you understand that the only control I’ve ever had over you is the control you’ve granted me? No one ever has complete control, love.
No one.
  Not me, not you, and most especially not your father. He did the things he did because he’s a coward and the only way he can feel like a man is to make women feel like they’re beneath him. He isn’t worth another minute of your time or ruining our future together. I know you’re angry and hurting, but trust me when I say that you don’t want to be responsible for your father’s death. You’ll never forgive yourself and the guilt will eat away at you slowly,
I should know
. Now please, pussycat, give me the gun.”

Dylan’s words are so
completely gut-wrenchingly genuine, I can’t help but take them to heart. It’s as if I’m watching him grow up right before my eyes as he turns into the man I knew he always could be. I swear he just aged tenfold while standing here trying to implore Isa not to kill her father, especially considering how much I know Young wants him dead.

The way Isabel watches Young
when he speaks his words of wisdom to her is something to behold. Her look changes from dogged and stubborn, to one of understanding and overwhelming love and adoration. I yearn for a woman to look at me with the same affection that Isabel bestows upon Young. Someday, perhaps, I’ll find the same kind of undying and unconditional love they have for each other. I like to think I already have in Sonya.