The Dominator (55 page)

“Naw, Pop. You go. We’ll be good. We’ll get married soon.”

“Maybe. The new house is still bein’ built so not a major rush. We’ll talk more later,” he slapped me on the back and then headed down the front stairs toward his car. His driver jogged over from the gate and opened the car door for Pop.  I followed the car out and stared at the sewer in front of my house. My mother’s necklace was gone. No way I’d get it back. Just as well, maybe. I needed to learn to control myself without it, anyhow. I heard Nino call out, “T?” I looked over my shoulder to see that suddenly Tia was beside me, staring at the sewer.

I gave her a sad look. She grasped the cameo necklace around her neck and yanked hard, breaking the chain.  She looked at the necklace in her hand for a second and then she dropped it over the sewer grate, it caught for a second and then slid down between the slats. She turned on her heel, and walked back toward the house.  I let out a slow breath and followed her.

Tia

I walked up to the bedroom and kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed, the soft gray cashmere throw Tommy had put over my shoulders still wrapped around me.

The shit my father had pulled in my life all pointed to him being a weak and broken man. But what I saw today was like an addict swindling to get his fix. He was looking for an in with this family and thought I was it. And he turned on me. Tommy had said he was still using drugs. Was he imagining working for this family and getting wealthy and having access to all the sins he wanted? Drugs, gambling? Notoriety? Was he
that
out of touch with reality?

Tommy came into the bedroom a few minutes after I did, looking stressed. He took the navy blue suit jacket he was wearing off and climbed in beside me and pulled me to his chest.  I was going to cry again. It couldn’t be helped. So much for my tough hardened self that I thought I was after my conversation with my Dad.

“Your necklace,” I whispered, rubbing my hand up his chest.

“I know,” he sighed.

“That was really fucked up,” I said.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“But what did he mean?” I asked.

“Hm?” he asked distractedly.

“He said
you
cleared my father’s debt. That didn’t make sense. Don’t
I
clear it by marrying you?”

Tommy’s eyes focused on me and he said, “I paid your father’s debt.”

“Huh?”

“Pop gave you to me as a gift. But I paid it anyway.”

I shook my head and frowned, not understanding. He continued, “I paid it. Despite the gift, I wanted the debt paid. So when we got back from Mexico I paid it, with interest. To make it done.”

I started to feel spinny, “You paid for me?”              

“Not for you, for the debt. To end it.”

“You paid money for me.” My fingers were at my temples.

“Tia, listen---”

“You really just had to ‘own’ me, didn’t you? You had to pay money for me because I’m a piece of fucking property to you!” I pushed at his chest to get away from him.

“No, that wasn’t it,” he made me look at him by grabbing my chin and staring right into my eyes, “I paid money so that
the debt
was settled. The debt being settled meant my father wouldn’t meddle, wouldn’t think he had a right to do anything to your father again. Because he’s your father I did that so that you wouldn’t have to deal with my father fucking with your father’s life anymore. I know how Pop’s brain works. If I hadn’t settled the debt, he’d still think he had a right to continue to settle the score. Stealing you wasn’t enough. Fucking with Greg’s life wasn’t enough. It might never have ended. Never. And you’re not just a piece of property to me; you’re every fuckin’ thing to me.”

I couldn’t think straight, I wanted him to let go of me. I pushed at his chest again but he pulled me tighter against him. Instead of fighting, which I knew was useless, I just went limp. He held me close and rocked me for a long time and I was just limp. No tears, no expression, no thoughts. Just limp.

“Baby?” he finally said and touched his lips to my forehead, one hand threaded into my hair.

I closed my eyes tight, “I can’t.” I said.

“Athena,” he hauled me back a few inches and held my face in both of his hands. I opened my eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

I nodded a little.

“Baby, I love you,” he repeated.

I opened my mouth but nothing would come out but a little sob that I pulled back. Tommy’s expression dropped and he let go of me and I dropped limply onto the pillows.  He left the room, slamming the door. I’d promised him just this morning that I’d always say it back. I failed him.

Sarah was tapping my shoulder. I jackknifed up in bed, gasping.

“Sorry, Chiquita; you been sleeping 3 hours. Tommy has to go away on business. I need to pack a bag for him, he asked me to tell you. He’s in the office if you wanna go say bye. He says he’ll be gone a few days.”

I put my head back on the pillow and pulled the blanket up over my head. I didn’t fall back asleep; I just sort of laid there. I heard her leave a few moments later.

I didn’t know where Tommy was going and I didn’t care. Whatever.  Him away instead of here meant I wouldn’t have to endure his mood swings, endure his wrath without the protection of his necklace.

Five Days Later…

For five days I stayed in the bedroom other than to make trips to the kitchen, the Ms. Pacman machine, and back. I read, watched TV, and played games on Facebook. I’d gotten my period for 4 days and now it was gone. I got a big zit on my chin that was now pretty well near gone, too. My knees were almost healed, my throat no longer had a bruise (not on the outside but I suspected I was scarred for life from it).

I was raging for sugar or something comforting other than ice cream, anything but ice cream, but Sarah had no other junk in the house other than sugary cereal, which was bizarre because she was a sugar hater but purchased several boxes of cereal with the word “Sugar” in a huge ass font on the box so I threw myself headfirst into said sugary boxes of cereal, using them to drown out the emotions about my life, my parents, my future, my relationship. Sarah brought me food. Sometimes I ate it, sometimes I didn’t. I woke up every night several times. I think I was looking for him but I wouldn’t allow myself to acknowledge it.

I ignored Sarah and the 4 guards at the house. Yeah, he’d left me here but doubled the security. Twice a day, at least, Sarah asked me if I’d checked my phone and I’d always say that it was charging. It was plugged in on the nightstand but turned off. I didn’t want to turn it on because I didn’t want to know whether or not he’d messaged me. If he had, I didn’t want to read them. If he hadn’t, I didn’t want to know either because that’d make me consider the fact that he hadn’t bothered to message me.
Stupid girl.

Y
esterday Sarah had said that Tessa and Lisa showed up to visit me but I feigned a headache and made her get rid of them. I missed Luc’s baby shower. I knew Sarah went. She came up to tell me she was going but didn’t invite me. I suspected Tommy didn’t want me leaving the house, anyway. And what good would it do for Tommy’s family and friends and everyone related to the Ferranos that I hadn’t met yet meeting Tommy’s fiancé, a member of the walking dead.

After five days, he came back. The door swung open and there he was. I was in bed with my laptop playing Texas Hold ‘Em poker online with fake money, a lot of fake money as apparently I was some sort of poker savant (ever since losing my shirt, literally, at strip poker to him). My hand was inside a box of Sugar Crisp. It was 11:30 at night. I was in sweats, a messy bun in my hair. I’d had a shower that morning but I didn’t even brush my hair, just shoved it up.

The door had opened and he dropped his suitcase on the floor and threw his jacket on the chair in the corner by the window. He folded his arms and stared at me. I glanced in his direction and ignored him and looked back to my screen. I unceremoniously shoved another handful of the sticky cereal into my mouth and pressed the button to fold from the game on the screen and licked my fingers. The tension level in the room shot up to near nuclear as he spoke, no roared,

“Where the FUCK is your engagement ring?”

My blood ran cold.

Suddenly he was in my face, the cereal and the laptop swept off the bed onto the floor.

I looked at the nightstand where the ring sat and then up to him. His eyes landed on it and then he picked it up and shoved it on my sticky finger.  I made a painful squeal and swallowed hard.  My heart thumped painfully in my chest and in my ears. His face was distorted into a snarl.

“That never comes off your fucking finger,” he glared at me, “It has a GPS in it. If anyone tries to take you again, it’s how I’ll fucking find you. I see that ring off your finger for any reason that tells me you’re planning to run. You planning to run?”

I shook my head No.

“No?” Heat and rage were all I could see in his eyes.

I shook my head again.

“Why was it off?” he demanded.

My head dropped to the pillow and I covered my head with the blanket. He ripped it right off me and tossed the blanket behind him so that it fell on the floor with the cereal and the laptop. I shrieked and pulled a pillow against myself and backed up against the headboard.

“What is your fucking problem?” he shouted. He picked up my phone and turned it on and it made a whole bunch of bleeps. Obviously he’d been messaging me, lots, “Done feeling sorry for yourself yet?”

“You’re the one who left!” I yelled, my voice hoarse. It might’ve been days since I’d spoken.

“You’ve been fucking catatonic. Obviously you didn’t care,” he retorted.

“I
don’t
fucking care!” I said, “I’m tired of fucking caring. Everything I care about means nothing. My father, my mother, you. Nothing.”

“Why am I nothing?”

“You’re not nothing. I’m nothing. I’m just…” I dropped back down to the pillow and put my hands over my face.

He sat on the bed and leaned forward and took my hands off my face and weaved his fingers through mine. His face was seriously pissed off-looking but his touch was gentle.

“I told you that you’re everything.”

“What do you want from me? You want to hit me? Go ahead and hit me. You want to fuck me? Go ahead---”

He let go of me and got up, “Fuck,” he stared at me a beat and then said, “I’m taking a shower.”

I laid there for a second and then lifted the phone, which he’d tossed on the bed, and scrolled through the texts sent throughout the time he was gone.

“Come down to the office, baby.”

“Tia?”

“I’m flying to Italy with my brother for a few days. Tell no one. Just that I’m away on business. I’ll text when I land. Love you.”

“P.s Delete my texts after you read them.”

“I’m here. You okay?”

“I’m laying here wishing you were beside me, baby. I can’t seem to sleep without you beside me. I should’ve brought you. I know you’re upset. I’m sorry you’ve been through so much in the last month. I’m working on fixing things. I’m on that road to making things better. Promise I’ll find a way. Love you.”

“I heard Etta James on the radio today in a restaurant and miss you so much. I didn’t know I was lonely without you until I had you. Now I don’t think I would want to live without you. Can’t wait to marry you and dance again with you to that song.”

Then there was a link to a YouTube video link.  Then another text.

“I miss the smell of your hair & how you wrinkle your nose at me & the way I wake up every morning with you all wrapped around me. Love how you keep wearing pink since I bought that pink fishing rod for you. Miss you. Write back?”

That was 4 days ago. He’d given up on messaging me. I touched the link to the video and it opened a YouTube window and started to play the Etta James song and it was playing to images from the Disney Wall-e movie. I loved that movie.

As the song filled the air so much emotion surged through me I thought I was going to fall over. When she sang about her heart wrapped up in clover the night she looked at him I thought about us in that field on his farm with me in the grass, him over me with sunrays practically bursting from him and how much emotion I’d felt in that moment. I thought about him dancing with me and singing this song in my ear.  I pushed away thoughts of him screaming in my face with his belt in his hand and then I saw that couple on the stage in Vegas embracing one another after he gave her what she needed and she gave him what he needed. I thought about how amazing it was when I declared I was his in the bathroom in the hotel that night.  The look in his eyes, the heat, the emotion. The freedom in being his was something I wanted now. Right now. When I gave into being his I didn’t have to feel anything but the bliss of giving myself over to him. I put the phone down and ran to the bathroom and hit the brakes when I got to the shower door.

He was still in the shower.  Did I want to climb in there with him and bridge the gap between us? I was so fucking scared of what I felt for him, of what he’d made me into in such a short amount of time. I was so scared of who he could be. Did I embrace our relationship and take the good with the bad? Or did I stay in this shell, this sub-existence I was in for the past several days? This man bought me and at first I was so infuriated about it because it made me a thing that could be bought but thinking about him doing it to end his father’s hold on my father, it was something that spoke more of him thinking of me instead of himself. But it was still me being traded among these men like property.