The Art of Submission (52 page)

Finally, around 11 o’clock at night I
get a call from Sawyer. He’s found Isa. On a hunch, he called Grey
Hound and sure enough, she bought a round- trip ticket to Atlanta.
What is she doing there? Seeing her father?
An old boyfriend?
I can’t think about that.
She’s on her way back and the bus is scheduled to stop in Nashville
in the next two hours. Sawyer, being the machine of efficiency that
he is, has already called Carson and the jet is ready and
waiting.

The flight over isn’t quick enough, about 1
hour and 40 minutes. Sawyer has already arranged for a rental car
to be waiting for us and we immediately head to the bus stop.

Sawyer drops me at the bus stop and I
tell him I’ll call when we’re ready to head back.
If
Isa comes back with me, that
is.
She just has to
. I won’t
leave here without here.
I
won’t.

About 20 minutes later, the large bus
pulls up and my heart starts racing. I stand and wait by the door.
About ten people get off and then I think I see my Isa. The girl
I’m looking at is the right size as Isa and walks like Isa, and the
hair is a mess of waves, but this girl’s hair is
brown.
When she looks up, I see
Isa’s beautiful amber eyes.
What the hell
has she done to herself?

As she comes sauntering in, holding her bag,
she sees me and freezes. Her eyes are big and she looks as though
she wants to run. The look on her face reminds me of how she looked
when I first saw her in Greer’s office. Her hand immediately goes
up to her now brown hair and she starts twirling a lock between her
fingers. I approach her and I lead her to a bench where we both
sit. She keeps her eyes on me and sits just out of reach.

“
What did do you to yourself?” I ask
gesturing towards her hair.

“This is what you like, isn’t it?” She
says softly. She looks sad and I reach out to touch her, but she
pulls away.
Fuck.

“No, it isn’t what I like.
Not anymore
. Why were you in
Atlanta? Were you with another man?” I ask, trying not to sound
jealous or hurt, but knowing damn well that I do.

She looks surprised at my question. “There is
no other man for me.” She says looking back down at the ground.

Oh, Isa.
My
heart swells. I just want to take her into my arms, but I
hesitate.

She looks up at me, scanning my face. “I went
to see my father.”

Oh.
I want to
ask her how it went but I can tell by the look on her face and her
furrowed eyebrows she doesn’t want to talk about it. Why did she go
to see him when she so adamantly rejected the family
clause?

“
Did you go see him because you think I
slept with Cassie the other night?” I ask her.

She looks taken aback and her eyes jump
from my mouth to my eyes and back again. Then her eyes narrow at
me. “Are you telling me you
didn’t
sleep with her?”

I can’t lie to her, as much as I want to.
“Yes, I did sleep with her...” I can’t even finish my sentence
before she jumps up.

“Why are you telling me what I already know?
Why the hell are you here?” She says almost near tears.

“Isabel, please. Let me finish. I did sleep
with Cassie, but not the other night. I slept with her over a year
ago. Before I knew you.” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her
to sit back down. She immediately pulls her hand out of mine.

“Why was she in your room?” She asks
accusingly.

“Because she can’t take a hint, that’s why.
She came to Dallas uninvited after I talked to her about
redecorating the spare room into an art studio for you.”

Isabel looks stunned at my
statement.
So much for the element of
surprise.

“Why would you do that?” She asks.

“Isn’t it obvious, Isa?” I ask her and
she just shakes her head no.
Shit.
She’s going to make me say it. “Because I… because…
oh hell.
Because I don’t want to be
with anyone else. Because I…” She cuts me off.

“Stop, Dylan. Just stop. What about what I
did and what about the contract?” She asks gazing into my eyes
intently.

Fucking hell woman. “Enough with the fucking
contract Isa. I don’t care if we have one or not, okay? I just want
to be with you. Isn’t that enough?”

Isabel pauses and then shocks me.

“No.
It’s not
enough.
You wanted the contract, not me. So I
convinced myself that it was a good thing, knowing exactly what my
expectations are and what your responsibilities are to me. If
you’re now telling me that we’re not going to have that, I… I want
it in writing that you’re not going to be with anyone else. That
you’re not going to hurt me.” She says determined.

“You
want
the contract?
Jesus, Isa,
I would never hurt you and I don’t
want to be with anyone else; not now, not
ever.
If you think that some arbitrary piece of
paper between us is going to make me keep my word, then you can
have the damned contract. I’ll keep my word with or without it, but
if you need it, then fine.”

“It’s not arbitrary, Dylan. It means
something. It means that you can do the things that you need to
make you happy and that…
I can
too
.” She says looking at her knotted
hands.

Shit.
I know
where this is going. This is about her wanting to punish me and
about what happened the other night. I don’t know if I can agree to
that. I want her, but I just don’t know that I can give her that
kind of control. I’m a Dom. She can’t ask me to give that
up.
She is trying to tame me.
Fucking hell.

“I know where you’re going with this,
Isabel, and I can’t be tamed.
I won’t
be.”
I feel sick.
She wants
to fucking control me.

“I’m not trying to control you or tame
you, Dylan. I love that you’re a Dom. It’s what attracted me to
you, it’s what I need in a man, but I also
need
this. I
need
to have just a little bit of control,
Dylan. I’m not asking for all of it, just a little bit of
it.
I need it… can’t you understand
that…”
Her voice trails off to almost an inaudible
tone.

She’s in my head again. She’s taken up
permanent residency there, it seems.

Her eyes are filled with tears and I’ve
never heard a more sincere statement in my life. Yes; I do
understand where’s she’s coming from.
I
need it, too
, and for the same reasons she does;
because we both never had any when we needed it the most; because
vanilla isn’t enough; because we’re the same kind of freaks. I
don’t want to talk about this anymore and I can’t think about this
right now. I just want to get her home. It’s been a long two days
and I just need to rest before I make any life altering
decisions.

“Isabel, I can’t talk about this anymore
right now. Please just come home with me and we’ll discuss it
tomorrow, okay?” I try reaching for her hand again but she
hesitates. “Isabel, I’m not leaving here without you.”

She looks dubiously at me but then
stands and agrees.
Thank you.
I call Sawyer to pick us up and we get Isabel’s bags from the
bus.

Once on the jet, Isabel doesn’t say anything
to me. She’s her usual nervous self during takeoff and I offer my
hand to her. She takes it to my relief, but I can tell she only
does so out of politeness. I take note that she’s sitting
uncomfortably and not leaning back.

As much as I hate explaining myself, I feel
the need to explain the situation with Cassie. I tell her that the
fling I had with Cassie was before she worked for me and that I
hired her because I felt I owed it to her after the shitty way I
ended things with her. Then I tell her that Cassie will no longer
be an issue. Isabel astounds me with her response.

“You felt like you
owed
it to her to give her a job? Because being
allowed to pleasure you wasn’t enough for her?” She says in
complete seriousness.

My sweet, Isa.
Spoken like a true submissive. I smile at her and shrug. I
reach over and touch her now brown hair; feeling troubled at the
thought that she thinks this is what I want.

“We’ll need to fix this.” I tell her. She
gives me a shy smile and nods in agreement.

Finally back at home, Isabel seems
uncomfortable. When I reach to take her jacket off, she flinches
and lets out a moan of pain. I pull her around to look at me and
she looks embarrassed and won’t make eye contact with me. I pull
her chin up so she’s looking me in the eyes and I ask her what’s
wrong. Her eyes fill with tears and she immediately hugs me,
burying her face in my chest and sobbing quietly.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Tell me… tell
me, baby….” I can’t stand seeing her like this or to hear her
crying like this. When I try to hug her back and she lets out a
small scream
. What the fuck?
I walk her to the bathroom quickly and lift up her shirt and
see welts and bruises on her back. I feel sick to my stomach and
anger like I’ve never felt before.

“Who the fuck did this to you?” I ask
her sternly.
Like I don’t know.
Her fucking father did this to her. I want nothing more than
to call out my henchman and have him taken care of and in a painful
way, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to stop myself from
doing it.

Isa doesn’t answer me and just weeps quietly,
still looking embarrassed. I run water in the bathtub for her and
help her get undressed as she stands motionless. When she’s
undressed, I help her into the tub. I wash her down, running water
down her injured back. How could someone do this to her? When I
wash her hair for her, some of the hair dye runs off, leaving black
streaks of color running down her welted back. She sits silently
with her knees pulled up to her chest and we both remain silent the
entire time. I want to question her but I don’t want to push her
when she’s so emotionally fragile. I help her out, get her dried
off and then dress her in a lovely pale yellow silk gown that I
picked out.

It’s late and it’s obvious that we’re both
tired. I lead her into the bedroom where she slips under the
covers. I get undressed and crawl in next to her. I turn to her in
the bed and tell her that I’m glad she came home with me and it’s
the first semi-smile I’ve seen on her face since picking her up.
She immediately drifts off to sleep and so do I.

I wake to the sound of Isa screaming. I roll
over and she’s fitfully sleeping and thrashing around.

“Isa, sweetheart, wake up! It’s only a dream,
baby… wake up!” I tell her loudly.

She opens her eyes and she looks frightened
like a small child. She’s shaking uncontrollably and I feel
overwhelmed by the need to hold her.

“Tell me what happened… tell me.” I have to
know what that abusive son-of-a-bitch did to her.

She hesitates but then whispers her abusive
past to me.

“My father was cruel. He was cruel to
my mother so she left him. She promised she would never leave me,
but she did. She left me with him. When she was gone, I took her
place. He hated her and I reminded him of her, so he took it out on
me. I found out years later that she died shortly after she left in
a car accident. Why did she leave me, Dylan?
Why
? He was so cruel. He’s the reason I’m on
birth control. I can’t make babies Dylan and he ruined my insides
from his beatings. I left seven years ago and never looked back. I
went back there today to try and… I…. I don’t know. After what
happened with us… I just didn’t want my past to ruin any more
relationships. I was just hoping he had changed and that I could
forgive him…” She trails off and then starts crying
again.

“Do you still want me? Knowing that I can’t
make babies, Dylan?” She says in the most heartbreaking voice
ever.

Enough. I can’t listen to anymore. I feel
sick at her admission. What her father did to her is unacceptable
and he will pay for his cruelty; I’ll make sure of that. I assure
her that I’ll never stop wanting her and that no one will ever hurt
her. I rock her in my arms until we both drift off to sleep again,
the warmth from her body like a security blanket around me.

I wake up with an uneasy cold feeling
several hours later and Isa isn’t beside me. I panic. Did she leave
again?
Fuck.
I jump up and
check the bathroom. Then I jog into the living room, my office and
the spare room.
Not again, no… I can’t
lose her again
. I feel nausea setting in. I don’t want
to be without her.
Damn it.
After everything she told me tonight and everything that’s
happened to her, why didn’t I just agree to her simple
request?
Why?
As I stand in
the hallway with my hands in my hair, feeling as if I’m going to be
sick, I hear something come from the dungeon.

When I open the door, I see Isa on the
bondage bed, sleeping peacefully. Suddenly I’m overcome with
emotions and I feel tears well up inside me.
She didn’t leave me.
She only left before
because she thought I had betrayed her with Cassie. She promised
she would never betray me the way Erika did and I believe her. Is
what she’s asking for really so much?
For
a little control?
I’ve been denying that I liked it
when I know damned well that I want it just as much as she needs
it. I don’t want to risk losing her. If the way I felt the last few
days not knowing where she was, or the feeling I was just overcome
with is anything like what I would really feel if she left…
no.
I can’t think about that. I
don’t want to lose her.
Ever.