I looked over at my wife and she pointed towards his hair. “The final stipulation is that you must cut your hair, sharpen up your image, stop driving crazy, drinking like there’s no tomorrow, and become the person you want her to know, the person we know you can be. Someone you can be proud of when you look in the mirror. The person Marissa can fall in love with.”
He took a deep breath, preparing to argue with us. His hair and wild ways had always been controversial at least we’d convinced him to remove the highlights for Gabi’s funeral. It’s no wonder Marissa didn’t recognize him. “You’re right. I haven’t been happy with who I’ve become. I’ve been given another chance and I want to make the best of it.”
I grabbed hold of my wife’s hand, happy to hear our oldest son finally coming to terms with growing up and becoming the man we know he’s capable of being. His sister would be so proud of him.
We were all smiling with one another when a knock came at the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” We all looked back at Officer Rankin. “May I come in and talk with you.”
I nodded. “Come in Zach. To what do we owe this impromptu visit? Do you have any news on the guy who caused the crash?”
“Ethan McKenzie is still in a coma. He suffered quite a bit of damage in the crash. His brain activity is increasing, but he looks to be out of it for a while longer. We did get the toxicology reports back on him. He wasn’t drunk, didn’t have a drop of alcohol in his system. But, he did have some drugs in his system.”
That bastard! “He was a druggie?!” An addict took my daughter’s life?
“No, sir. The drugs in his system were consistent with date rape drugs called GHB or gamma-hydroxybutyrate. He’s already on some medication for health issues and apparently the drug that was slipped to him interacted with his medication and caused him to pass out at the wheel. His dose was at a critical level and put him into the coma. If the emergency room had not pumped his stomach, he could’ve died from the amount ingested.
“From what we’ve uncovered, he was at a Fraternity party earlier that night. Apparently some of the former graduates were in town and were invited to attend as a reunion party. We understand he was on the receiving end of a verbal altercation with a couple of fraternity brothers, but we haven’t been able to deduce who he fought with, who slipped the drugs in his drink, or why they wanted him to pass out. We do have a list of individuals we’re trying to get in contact with to help fill-in the blanks of that night.”
I pounded my fist into my leg in frustration. “So this poor young man was a victim of a crime that not only has changed our lives, but his too.”
“Yes, sir. But, there’s more. The autopsy results have come in from your daughter. Since I know you, I wanted to be the one to deliver them.”
My hands were shaking, wondering what was in the results that had him bring them to me directly. I took the envelope and opened it carefully, reading through the information, when . . .”The brain had a large undetected aneurysm in the anterior portion of the brain. There’s evidence of a subarachnoid hemorrhage . . .” The words began to shift off the page, when the realization hit that Gabriella didn’t die from the car accident, but from an aneurysm. My first concern, “Have you talked with Jackson yet?”
Officer Rankin shook his head, “No, sir. I know that Jackson, you, and Mrs. Prescott are the main contacts regarding her information. I tried to approach him, but he told me to come here. I imagine he’s exhausted from keeping vigil over his daughter and thought it might be better if you broke the news to him. How are they both doing?”
“Jackson’s been through hell and back, but my wife and I try to take turns during the day and night to give him time to sleep. You can tell Nicola is Gabi’s daughter; she’s the spitting image of her in a small package. She’s still too small to go home, but she’s progressing and fighting the odds. We’re grateful we have her with us.”
I rubbed my hand across my face, not wanting to acknowledge things, but turned to my family and explained. “Gabriella wasn’t meant to stay here. The accident didn’t kill her, an undetected aneurysm did. If it hadn’t been the accident, it might have been during delivery or some other incident. Maybe now we can take the focus off of the young man who hit her and instead put our efforts into finding the guy who drugged him and caused this to happen in the first place.”
Officer Rankin got up from his chair. “I’m very sorry about being the bearer of this information, but figured it would be easier to handle from someone you know. Did you want me to speak with Jackson?”
“We’ll talk with him.” My wife spoke up. “He needs a woman’s touch to break it to him gently and our family to surround and support him.”
I stood with Officer Rankin and shook his hand. “Thanks for bringing us this information. Have you discovered anything new with Marissa’s break-in?”
He shook his head. “We’ve had a couple people say they’ve seen a suspicious car in the area. But, no one was able to identify the suspect’s picture and no one really paid attention to the details of the vehicle in question. Most were either at work or school, when the incident happened. The suspect doesn’t have an alibi, but until we can link him, our hands are tied. We do know the locks have been changed and we’ve had more patrol cars circling the area.”
“Thank you for coming by.”
I WAS RELEASED FROM the hospital and spent the next couple weeks at my parent’s house and helping Jackson. It felt good to focus on things outside of work and to realize I wasn’t the cause of Gabriella passing. I’m still in awe how they were able to keep Gabi alive long enough to provide medication to strengthen Nicola’s lungs, so she could be born by c-section. The baby already had all of us wrapped around her little fingers and we couldn’t wait to spoil her with toys and stories of how wonderful her mother was.
Jackson was taking things pretty hard. I still felt guilty about needing to talk with my sister that night and the nightmares of coming upon the crash scene still haunt me. But, I’m working it out with Kent in some therapy sessions. He’s helped me realize that Gabi might have lived a little longer, but how much, we’ll never know. Her aneurysm may or may not have ever been detected early enough to save her. He explained that when it’s your time, there’s not much you can do about it. While the words fill my mind, my heart still yearns to be able to talk with my sister. She’s one of the few people who helped ground me.
Kent isn’t happy that I’ve been avoiding my practice with the whip. I know it sounds crazy that my parents would want me to learn how to use a whip as a form of control. I laughed at the first mention of it. But, I was out of control in my late teens and early twenties. Having something to focus on and learning the need to take charge of and pleasure a woman; helped calm me down considerably. The whip was the one thing that I had to have total focus and power over it because one false move with a single tail and you could impart some serious damage that even a plastic surgeon might not be able to correct.
I had a small room off the side of the gym that had some toys for pleasure, a whipping bench, a huge sofa, and a St. Andrew’s Cross for fun. I’d had the room built a couple of years ago and had yet to find someone I felt comfortable bringing home. Tiffany was fun for a little kink, but I realized the connection I felt with her was nothing more than a need to have a good fuck. My mind began to wonder how things would be with Marissa, if I could take her to my room, if she’d submit to me, if she’d be the passionate soul I’ve been craving . . .
“Is your head in the game, Dane?” Kent asked. “You look like your mind was elsewhere for a second.”
Kent had me meet him at the club and set up some practice targets for me to focus on. Someone in complete charge of the whip could hit the targets without shredding them to pieces. I had some balloons set up to pop, some cups to tip over, and the ultimate challenge, some tissue paper taped together where you needed to cut through one layer at a time without shredding the layers below. God, I loved a challenge!
“Tak
e a few practice swings to warm up and then start with the balloons and work over towards the paper.” Kent got off to the side, out of reach of the whip and said, “Begin!”
I took a couple of swings, aiming at various points in the room, not even coming close. Before I could react, I heard Kent call out, “Focus!”
I took a deep breath in, trying to relax my nerves and focus my mind. I imagined Marissa holding the first balloon in her fingers, having enough trust in me not to hurt her. I felt the weight of the whip in my hands and felt my arm and body become an extension of it. I swung it around and barely hitting the balloon, made it pop. I let my imagination believe that she was there with me holding each piece for me until I’d finished the circuit of items.
I watched as Kent went to inspect everything and heard him clapping. “Bravo, Dane. You managed to do everything perfectly, though still needing a softer touch on the tissue paper. You managed to go through a couple of sheets once. But, I think you have some of your focus back. Now tell me what was going through your mind that helped you find your center and focus?”
“Marissa.”
“Is that the girl you’re going to be working with?”
“Yes. She’s also the woman who saved my life.”
He brought me over a bottle of water. “Remember to stay hydrated or your mind can get hazy, or is that just the effect she has on you?”
“Now that is off limits on our training time.” I argued.
“Fine, but we’ll discuss it at some point. I don’t want you setting yourself up in adoration of this girl to have the rug pulled out from under you.” He gave me a brotherly style pat on the back.
“I’ll watch out. I know anything worth having takes time, including relationships.”
He smiled and nodded in approval. “Good. You’re already halfway there with that realization. I can tell you really care about Marissa. Just let nature take its course. If she’s truly meant for you, you’ll both find a way. Let her see your dominant nature, but not all at once. You don’t want to scare her; feel her out and try to gauge her limits, what turns her on and off. Think of your new adventure as you would learn how to maneuver a dance together. You’ll take the lead and let her follow, getting comfortable with her partner; without stepping on any toes in the process.”
I could imagine myself leading Marissa in a dance, a sensual tango full of body heat and passion. The very thought of her brought a fire back into my soul. But, I suddenly wondered, “Kent, should I tell her that she was the one who saved my life that night?”
He patted me on the back. “If your relationship is being based off of nothing more than her saving your life you may be suffering from hero worship. When you tell her, she may think that’s the only reason she got her job and is getting all this special treatment. Is it Dane?”
“Absolutely not! I fell for her the day our eyes connected at work and the moment our lips touched. I never knew where she lived, no one would tell me, no matter how much I begged. It was just coincidence that I passed out in front of her house.” I swallowed hard remembering. “Okay, fine I look up to her, but I want to see if we have something as equals for work and as partners in the bedroom, maybe more.”
“Sounds like you have a good plan. Just remember not to rush anything. I expect to see you at least twice a week for counsel and practice. If you plan on using your whip on her, you’ll need some more practice. Plus, I want to make sure your mind is in the right place and we can discuss any concerns or issues you’re having. If things progress, like you hope, you may want to bring her in and ease her into the setting privately without all the hoopla of the club scene.”
“Thanks, man.” I gave him a half man hug before heading out.
I took a quick shower before dressing and meeting Ms. Timbre uptown at the shops she’d suggested. I know dad wanted her to do all the shopping for Marissa’s new wardrobe, but I wanted to purchase some items other than just business attire. From my understanding, she didn’t have much left in the way of regular clothes.
Ms. Timbre had a rack of business attire with an assortment of skirts, dresses, pants, shirts, and already selected for Marissa. I liked how she had some serious looks for meetings and some more casual looks that could be dressed up or down, pending our business agenda.
She’d pulled some regular, everyday, clothes. But, they were quite plain, no color to speak of and way too conservative. “The business rack is perfect, though you might add a splash of color here and there. However, the regular attire is very blasé. I’d like to see her in more adventurous attire that plays to her body’s shape; items that accentuate and bring out her natural beauty. I’d also like to see a couple of formal gowns, both full and cocktail, along with some lingerie, nightly attire, a few bikinis, and anything you can think of her wardrobe needing, along with matching accessories.”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice was enthusiastic, realizing she’d be getting a much higher commission.
While Ms. Timbre went to work gathering items from the sales floors, I looked over the footwear she’d selected. They were all flats! For someone who had amazing legs like Marissa, I wanted to see her in heels; something to make those full hips of hers swing a little more.
I’d always hated shopping for myself and others, but for Marissa it was fun. I felt like a kid in a candy store getting to dress up my own personal Barbie doll. While I hated the bastard who destroyed her things, I was happy that I’d get to be the one to make things right and dress her with clothes that would fit and not be so dated.
The new selections Ms. Timbre had made, along with the amazing heels, was phenomenal. We were going to take toned down Marissa and turn her into a glamorous temptress. Seeing the lingerie picks were getting me hard just thinking about her wearing them underneath all her attire.
I arranged for the store to go ahead and deliver the items to my house, along with a few other items I’d selected at the store. I’d arrange for my housekeeper to go ahead and place her new attire in the closet and get her bed and bathroom all set up for her arrival.
My bruises had all healed, my hair was cut short and I was feeling better than I had in a long time. I was anxiously awaiting Marissa’s movers to bring over the items that would be sent a few days ahead of schedule.
When the movers got there, I asked to see how much there was so I could direct them to the appropriate areas. I was shocked to find the truck mostly empty with exception of a Pappisan chair, a side table, a few boxes marked books, and one marked kitchen. “There isn’t any furniture?”
“No, sir. From what we understand, the furniture was on loan to her from one of her roommates. It looks like she has only a couple of suitcases left and she’ll be all moved.”
I’d worried about how much clothes my family and I had procured for her and was apprehensive she’d overreact to things. From what information I’d gathered, she’d come from an upper middle class family. She should have more than this, but then again some bastard had destroyed most of her things.
I thanked the movers and took the box marked kitchen and opened it in case there was any food in there that needed to be placed out on the counter. To my surprise, there was only one frying pan, a couple place settings of silverware, some paper plates, and quite a bit of ramen noodles and an unopened jar of peanut butter. She had to eat more than this! Is that why her clothes hung off of her that day in the elevator? She couldn’t afford to eat any better.
It looked like I’d have my first challenge coming up, questioning her about what she ate and trying to ascertain how healthy she is. To work my job and to be my submissive, she’d need to be in tip top shape. At least I knew of some tell tale signs, we’d been taught to look for as Masters, as to whether she’d been adequately fed and would have my father insist on a physical as being part of her hiring process. At least I can keep an eye on her soon and make sure she eats right.
“I’M SO NERVOUS.” I didn’t want to admit it, but the idea of living with a guy scared the shit out of me. No
t to mention the fact that it was my boss’s son. When I accepted the position, I was just thankful to have a job offer where I could stay in Florida and be close to my bother and most of our friends. It was mid-week and I’d finished my last final this morning. The driver, Rick, pulled up to take me onto my new place to live and I was terrified.
“You’ll be fine.” Dawn reassured me, while Ashley was nodding up and down with a couple of tears in her eyes. “Don’t let him boss you around. You’ve been asked to watch him, so do your job and remember you report to his father, not him.”
I nodded. “I know, I know. I just wish I’d had the chance to meet him prior to today. I understand that Mr. Prescott will be there to introduce us and go over the rules, so we are both clear on things.” I took a deep breath in from talking so fast. “It’s weird but I feel like something major is changing in my life and I’m scared.”
Ashley pulled me into a hug, rubbing her hands soothingly up and down my back. “We’re all scared, hon. We just finished our finals, we graduate in a little over a week, we’re moving onto bigger and better things. But, don’t fret. We’ll see each other for graduation. Then we’ll all get back together a few weeks later for my wedding, not to mention the phone calls and Skype chats we can have.”
She leaned back to pull Dawn over for a group hug. “We’ll always be friends, no matter what!” Ashley said with certainty.
“I agree. Friends are forever! I love you gals and will miss you fiercely.” I waved to the driver to let him know I’d only be another moment.
Dawn started shooing me towards the end of the driveway, where Rick got out and took my small suitcase from me. “Go on now, don’t look back and cry. We’ll all be fine. This has been a wonderful adventure together and another one is waiting for you. Just don’t forget to call us and tell us how the other half lives.” She snickered.
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