OWNED by Dominic (Possessed #1) (2 page)

Hate directed at her.

She was at a loss. Too shocked to know what to say...to do. Her father had never been the warmest man, but he’d certainly never been mean to her. Not like that.

“Da?” she whispered; her upset clear as a bell. He just watched as the tears dripped gently down her cheeks.

“You got something to say?” he snarled.

She started to back away from him. The anger in his eyes setting them ablaze. She didn’t understand what was wrong with him. Hearing a noise from behind her, she looked back to see her mam tentatively coming down the stairs with a small limp and a hand holding her side.

When the woman finally saw what was happening at the bottom she rushed down, putting her own body in front of Deidre’s. Protecting her. She couldn’t understand what was going on.

“You best teach that bastard child some manners, Maureen.” He growled as he grabbed the delicate arms in front of him, making her cry out in pain.

“Stop it, Da! Stop, you’re hurting her!” she cried out, pulling on her mom’s shirt.

“Shut up, brat!” he screamed at her.

“Bradshaw! You can’t speak to her that way.”

Deidre watched in terror as his face went an ugly shade of red. “Mam?” she whispered in fear just as her out of control da backhanded her ma so hard she hit the floor with a cry of pain. “Mam!” the young girl cried out again, dropping to her knees just as she felt a tug on her hair so sharp it felt like it was being ripped out.

All of a sudden, she was sailing through the air and hitting the wall just a couple of feet away. Dazed, she couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. But she scurried back as pain assaulted her body, then the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer made her cringe.

Closing her eyes tight, she waited for what was to come. With hot breath in her face and a hand gripping her chin so tight it hurt, he demanded, “Open your damn eyes.”

Looking up, she shivered in fear as he told her, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth and mind your business.” At her nod, he had instructed, “Clean her up. She looks like shit,” before walking back out the front door with a slam.

One

Deidre ~ 10 years old

“Deidre Lynne O’Connor
get your arse in this house now!” She winced when she heard her dad screaming for her as she was dropped off from school. Barely out of her friend Jemma’s van and he had already started yelling at her.

Sighing, she took her time walking up the steps to their not quite mansion in the middle of Dublin. She hated this house. It reminded her of the one from the American show
The Addams Family
—all spooky and creaky when no one was home.

“Deidre!” he screamed again. His voice was full of anger now. She wondered what bug crawled up his arse this time. Over the years, since she was six years old to be exact, he’d been progressively getting meaner until her mom had finally moved out when she was eight.

Deidre didn’t blame her, not really. Her father beat her almost daily, and when he’d started taking his meaty fists to her, Ma just couldn’t take it anymore. She’d tried taking Deidre with her, but her dad was a powerful man and had run his wife through the mud, making her look like nothing but a drug-addicted whore.

It couldn’t be further from the truth, but he was a world-class manipulator, and she was only eight, so no matter how many times she’d tried to say no, it would infuriate him.
No one ever listened.
So here it was two years later, and she saw her mom once a year on her birthday for a very short amount of time—time that she treasured.

“Yes, Da?” she asked as she walked inside, stopping short when she saw a huge hulking man standing sentry at the bottom of the staircase and to the side of her father’s study.

“Get in here,” he snapped from said study.

“Please, would ya come in here,” she mumbled in a low, deep voice, wishing just once he would treat her like a person instead of a thing.

A snort as she passed The Hulk had her stopping short and looking up into his stone cold face. His eyes betrayed his amusement. A small smile graced her lips as she walked into the study before fixing her face into a blank stare.

*****

Watching in amusement
as the little spitfire went into his current employer’s study, he knew he should worry about her. But that small spark showed that she was tougher than her petite stature might imply.

Dominic Slade had slowly been working his way into Bradshaw Williams, lll’s organization for over a year now. Williams was the CEO of Williams’ Fine Art Exchange, buying rare pieces of art and reselling it at a marked-up value. Sounded pretty straightforward; however, he had duplicates made of the paintings and laced the canvases with contaminated cocaine.

For the last five years, Bradshaw had been working with drug cartels in both Ireland and England, shipping their merchandise back and forth, taking all the risk with the highest payout. Only the moron forgot one thing…It all traced back to him. Meaning the English and Irish governments were on his trail; hence, the reason Dominic had now infiltrated his organization. He’d slowly and quietly worked his way to guarding the boss, being instructed to take out Bradshaw without it blowing back on him or either government. His chances were slim because Bradshaw liked having an entourage with him at all times, and eliminating everyone else wasn’t part of the job. So he was biding his time.

The little girl was a shock. She was a well-kept secret that not many people outside of his circle knew about. The ex-wife was another story because Bradshaw enjoyed bragging about how he ruined her. Made her suicidal.

Fucking slime ball.
What kind of man does that to the woman he should be protecting and loving for the rest of her life?
He didn’t get it.

He, himself, wasn’t a hearts and flowers type of guy. He was very possessive of what belonged to him and knew that one day a woman would come along and not only tolerate it but fight back to enjoy it.

Listening to Bradshaw yell at his daughter about some stupid shit grated on his nerves, and he felt bad for the girl as he heard her yell, “But Da, it’s me birthday! I’m supposed to see Mam on that day!” He could hear the tears and distress in her voice.

“I don’t give a shite. You’re my child, and you’ll do as I say.” The finality in Bradshaw’s voice would have had grown men backing down or retreating. Not this girl, though.

“Fuck that! She’s my mam, and you can’t stop me!”

Shit
, he thought, making his way to the room knowing what was coming.

“Why you little bitch!” was what he heard as he opened the door just as Bradshaw punched the girl in the face. Closed fist.
Motherfucker
.

“What the fuck!” Dom stormed in as she flew to the floor with a silent cry.

“Mind your business, Slade. This is between my child and me,” he growled out.

Walking over to the girl, Dom was pissed when she cowered away from him.
No child should ever cower from a man.
He was ready to kill this fucker right then and there. The only thing stopping him was her.

“C’mon kid, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said gently, bending down so she could see him and offer his hand.

She watched him like a bug under a microscope; her eyes quickly darted to her father before settling back on him. Grabbing his hand, she pulled her small body into his.

“Useless child,” Bradshaw grumbled as Dom helped her to her feet. “Get her the fuck outta here.”

Pushing the young girl’s slight frame in front of his, he guided her out of the office asking, “Where’s your room, kid?”

She shot him a look of horror like he planned god-awful things for her. Laughing at her shocked face he told her, “We’re gonna clean your face up, kid.”

“Me name is not kid,” she snapped. Clearly not afraid of him anymore.

“Oh yeah?”

“’Tis Deidre,” she told him saucily.

“Quite the attitude for an eight-year-old,” he teased knowing full well she was ten.

“I beg your pardon! I’m ten, not eight.”

“Whatever you say, Deedee.”

“Deedee?” she asked.

“You look more like a Deedee than a Deidre. Suits you better,” he explained.

She seemed to ponder that while showing the way to her room. Which was on the other side of the monstrosity they called a home. She was alone on this side. Unprotected and vulnerable. He had a feeling Bradshaw didn’t care much for her and only tolerated her because it tormented her mother.

“So what’s the deal with dear old dad?” he asked her as they arrived at her room, and she went straight to the bathroom. Lifting her onto the counter, he grabbed a cloth, turning the cold water on and wet it, then placed it on her cheek where swelling had already started.

“He’s a stupid jerk,” she mumbled.

“Kind of knew that already. What’s up his ass today, though?”

“He hates me mam and doesn’t want to let me see her on me birthday.”

“That so. When’s your birthday?”

“This Saturday. I’ll be eleven years old, and Mam wants to take me to the carnival. But Da’s not letting me go.” She cried silently.

He didn’t know what to do with crying women at any time, let alone what to do with a crying little girl. Awkwardly patting her back, he muttered inconsequential things to her knowing what he said would never make a difference to how she felt anyways.

“You can go now,” she whispered. “I’m sure Da needs protecting from his stupidity.”

The seriousness in her tone had him laughing out loud. The sad part was, she was probably right. The man was a fucking moron that needed saving from himself. Too bad Dom was going to be the man to ruin him; and hopefully, send this girl back to her mother.

*****

Six months later

“But Dooommm, please,
just for a little while?” The hopeful lilt to Dee’s voice almost had him caving to take her to the mall with her friends, but he needed her at home where she’d be safe. Away from anything that could possibly harm her.

Over the past six months, since the day her father had hit her over her birthday, he’d been assigned her bodyguard. Which for a ten-year-old girl pretty much meant confidante, slave, bag carrier, and taxi. He didn’t mind. She was a good kid in need of someone to show her she wasn’t just for show when called upon. That she was, in fact, a person. Someone who had quite a bit to contribute to the world. So that’s what he’d been doing.

Unfortunately, today was going to be his only chance to take Bradshaw out and get away unknown. The boss had a meeting that evening with some new “clients” and said he wanted Dom there...Only Dom. He should have been suspicious, but he’d been around long enough to be prepared for anything. Scoping out the building and planning an exit strategy for any and all contingencies had already been taken care of, so in short, he was ready.

The one part of his plan he didn’t like was that he wouldn’t be coming back, which meant Dee was essentially on her own. Once he returned to England for his debriefing, he planned on calling her mother anonymously, so she knew her daughter needed her. But there would be a delay, and that worried him.

“Deidre!” he barked, needing her to understand she was not going with her friends. “You’re to stay here this evening. I have more important things to do than be your chauffeur.”

Tears welled in her eyes immediately, making him feel like shit. Nonetheless, he needed her to be mad at him, so when he didn’t come back, it would hurt her less.

She flew up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. “I’ll see ya, kid,” he whispered before going to meet Bradshaw in his study. Back to where it all began.

*****

Dom stood outside
the abandoned warehouse waiting for Bradshaw to finish whatever business he was conducting. He never cared about the specifics so long as he didn’t have to get his hands too dirty for the scum bag.

It was dark, and they were on the outskirts of Dublin where it seemed civilization had abandoned ship. Only, he knew better. This was where the seedy underworld held its business—in the confines of darkness and under the guise of passing through.

A light breeze carried traces of their conversation to his ears and what he heard he did not like. “Where’s the girl?” An angry voice asked Bradshaw.

Creeping around the side of the building, he pulled out his Glock primed to kill if they were talking about who he thought they were.

“She’s home being prepared to leave for Switzerland as we speak. You’ll have to take her from there. I don’t fucking care anymore. She’s more trouble than she was ever worth,” Bradshaw spit out.

He’s fucking selling Dee!

The need to kill was running through his veins like wildfire. The son of a bitch was going to sell his child. Edging back to the door, he silently opened it, ready for the night to be over. He no longer cared about damage control, or if anyone found out. He was the one to kill this son of a bitch. He was fucking done.

Following the sound of voices deeper into the bowels of the building, he found Bradshaw standing with three other men in the middle of the room. A quick glance around showed it was just the four of them.

Listening, he waited until they would be caught off guard. “She’s still pure, yeah?” One of the guys asked in a thick eastern European accent. Bulgarian maybe? His blood was boiling knowing just what they were talking about.

“As pure as they come. She’s got attitude, though. You’ll have to whip her into shape.” Bradshaw’s slimy English accent boasted.

Dominic was ready to explode in a cloud of gunfire and rage.

“Good, she’ll make a fabulous toy.” The Bulgarian laughed.

“Sure, let’s get this done, shall we, gentleman? You’ve seen the pictures. She has unique eyes. You’ll never see anything like them again.” He was fucking proud of this shit?

“One million,” the Bulgarian offered.

He lost it. Two shots nailed the bodyguards right between the eyes before either of them knew what was coming. Blood splattered Bradshaw and the Bulgarian as their bodies collapsed. Eyes wide with shock, lifeless.
Perfect.