Where We Began

by Nora Flite

  Moving slowly, I shut the toilet lid. He watches me the whole time. When I sit on it, he leans against the sink, considering me until I begin to squirm. “What matters the most to you?” he whispers.

  “Going home,” I say automatically.

  “No, what matters to you here. In this room.”

  I work my jaw, feeling lost. “I don't care about anything in here. It's just a bathroom.”

  There's no color in his eyes, just hollowness. “Yes, you do. Think harder.”

  Squinting, I scan the white walls, the mirror, the grand bathtub... and then I get to him. A flutter attacks my heart. I smother it so my smile can be unkind. “If you're asking if you matter to me, the answer is no.”

  He doesn't react. I wish he had. “You're getting closer.”

  My back goes straight as a rod. He means me. “Yes, I obviously matter to myself.”

  With a half-nod, he pushes off the sink. “Turn around.”

  “What are you going to do?” Nervously, I wrap my hands around my braid. Counting the elegantly woven rows helps relax me. It makes me think of my promise to Kara. I wonder how long her hair is now, if she's beating me.

  His attention goes to what I'm doing. “Turn around,” he growls again.

  My muscles obey his instruction. I adjust on the toilet seat, showing him my back. I'm waiting for him to speak. He doesn't, his pointed silence making my ears ring. I strain to hear him because I'm desperate for a hint at his plan.

  I see his shadow grow on the wall in front of me. His shoulders shift. I catch his arms rising. Is he going to strangle me? Would he go that far? It's awful that I don't know what to expect from him anymore.

  His fingers slide through my hair. They start at the cap of my skull, inching down with an immense patience reserved for glaciers moving through the sea. I'm hyper-aware because of my fear. His nails scrape the base of my head sinking in, a gentleness that's out of place in this tense room. “You let it grow so long,” he whispers.

  Warm breath caresses the curve of my ear. I shudder, but not from disgust. I want to lavish in hatred for Dominic. But my body has other ideas.

  I've never been touched so intimately. He's doing nothing but brushing my hair with his fingers, and it's more enticing than if we'd kissed...than if we'd fucked. I know this, even though I've never done either.

  Metal squeaks the cabinet over the sink. His arms are long enough that he can reach it without budging from my side. I start to turn my head, to check what he's doing, but his fingers bind into my hair and force me still. “What are you going to do?” I ask, my voice frail.

  His presence behind me is an inferno. “I'm going to get the truth from you.”

  My pulse quickens, it's a struggle to pull in a full breath. “Dominic, please.”

  “Shh.” He strokes through my hair, undoing each loop of my braid like he's enjoying the experience. No rushing, just a luxurious sensation of him playing expertly with the brunette strands. All the while there's a cloak around us. Doom is tickling at the corners of my mind.

  This feels good. So damn good.

  And it shouldn't.

  I close my eyes, but it's worse, because in the darkness his presence becomes more powerful. I'm transported to a place that consists of his scent, his warmth, his dominating aura, and nothing else. “I swear,” I say, “I told you everything I know.”

  He glides his hand through my hair, the last loop tugging free. “I don't believe you.” Blood returns to my scalp, as the once looped hair swings free. The sensation makes my cells tingle. I do this to myself before I shower. Being fully untied from top to bottom always makes me smile.

  It's different when he does it to me. I'm exposed. Vulnerable. He sweeps my hair aside, leaving my neck bared. I wonder if he can see my goose bumps. “Last chance,” he says, his tone flat. “Tell me what you know.”

  The or else is left unsaid.

  “I don't know anything! Dominic, I—if you're going to hurt me, just do it.” His grip loosens. He's listening to me, I press on quickly. “Whatever you plan to do is pointless. You can't get blood from a stone.” As I talk, my confidence grows. “Even if I did know, I'd never tell you. Got it? So you can chop off my hair.” I'm sure that's what he's plotting—he took scissors from the cabinet. There was nothing else in there.

  I think of Kara; my eyes throb. “Rip me apart until all that's left for you in this room is your own guilt,” I say. “There's no answers for you here.”

  A heartbeat, then five, six passes. Dominic takes in a greedy breath. His hand vanishes from my hair. “You sound a little too eager about the idea of being torn to shreds.”

  I turn in place so I can see him. Oddly, there's no scissors in his grip. Was he faking me out? “I'm not suicidal.”

  “Then you must figure you've got a future to live for.”

  “Of course I do. Eventually I'll get out of here and make it back to Dad and the rest of my family.”

  His mild smirk reminds me of his mother's; the time she got me to talk to her when I was trying to stay quiet. “What if I told you we already have him?”

  I stiffen, all the wind going out of me. “That's not possible.” More than that, it makes no sense. Why—if they had him, what was Dominic spending his time fucking with me for?

  “Caught him just before he got on a plane. Why would he risk flying, of all things?”

  Confusion delays my response. “I—I don't know.”

  “Guess he was itching to burn the money he stole from us. Ready to take a vacation on a little island somewhere.”

  My father stole their money? This deluge of info rattles me. “He didn't tell me anything about that,” I insist.

  “It doesn't matter.” He checks his phone, reading something—his smile is sickening. He knows he's won. “Do you think my parents will care if I give my guys the okay to break his legs? Can't run, that's a bonus. We can't damage his hands, he definitely needs those to—”

  “No!” I scream, launching myself at him. “Don't hurt him! Don't you dare!”

  Dominic manages to wrap his arm around me without dropping his phone. In a clean motion, he pins me chest first against the door's full-length mirror. His beard scratches along my temple, his whisper lava-hot. “I'll tell them to back off, but only if you come clean. Right now. And tell me everything about the plan you two had.”

  “Okay,” I sob, going limp in his grip. “I... I did know he was going to escape.” Salty tears well in my eyes as the information floods out of me. “I was supposed to go with him. He never said to where. I didn't even know how he'd get me out!”

  “And the money?”

  “He never said a word about taking any money! I had no clue about a plane or an island or any of that, either. It's the truth, Dominic. Please believe me. Please, don't hurt him!”

  I'm a sniffling mess when I lift my head. Through blurry eyes I see Dominic's stare in the mirror. There's regret in his expression, guilt in the edges of his subtle frown.

  He sees me looking, and all his emotion melts away. He backs up as he releases me. “You aren't lying, are you? You really don't know where he is.”

  My breath catches. “Wait,” I say thickly. I rub the tears away with the jittery heels of my hands. “Are you saying you don't have him?”

  “We're still searching. This was an attempt to get you to reveal his hiding spot.”

  I suck in great gulps of air. “You... you tricked me.” My head is pulsing, a migraine grappling me in a vice. “How could you do that? I was terrified, I was—I kept picturing him all bloody and hurt because you lied to me!” I slam my hands into his chest. The impact shakes my joints. For my effort, he's motionless as a boulder. “You piece of shit,” I seethe. “How could you hurt me like this?”

  He holds my stare boldly. “I had to.”

  “No. No one has to do something like this. Only monsters.”

  Dominic flinches. He towers over me, but when I look at the black centers of his eyes, there's emptiness beyond
the void. His muscles are a shell; the strength is purely on the surface. I think... if I tried... I could knock him over.

  Something has broken inside of him.

  Something I fear can't be fixed.

  Swallowing loudly, he steadies himself. “If it was someone else interrogating you, someone other than me, this would have been worse.”

  I press my molars together, searching for something to spit back. All I find is the tiny rational voice in my head. He did this himself... as a kindness. My limbs go slack. The righteous fury abandons me.

  “But you're right.” He rips the door open. His final words reach me just before he exits my room. “I am a monster.”

  - Chapter 13 -

  Laiken

  It must have been decided I'm not worth drilling for information anymore because, the next morning, I'm not locked inside my room. I think Dominic told them that I've got no idea about my dad's location. I want to ask him about it, but when I spotted him in the house at breakfast, he avoided me. He's worse than the deer in the preserve; he slips off effortlessly, leaving me behind.

  You'd think, considering how awful he's been since he got back, that I'd be happy to stay out of his way. But I'm not. I can't let go of the sorrow in his eyes when I accused him of being a monster.

  I'm walking in the garden when a maid chases me down. “Master Silas wants to see you,” she says, breathing like she's run a mile. My belly twists, but I make my way back to the mansion. On the way I see an array of guards posted. They're everywhere, and at their sides are Dobermans with black, bullet-shaped heads. The Bradleys aren't messing around.

  I knock on the door of the study, and for a second I'm twelve again, about to face a ghoulish man in his domain. The door opens, his tired voice speaking, “Come in.”

  Silas is on his way back to his chair when I enter. I shut the door, my ears straining as the heavy silence settles. “You wanted to see me.”

  He drops into his chair with a groan. His thick gray suit hides his body; I believe he's lost weight this past year. “Sit. Let's talk.”

  Nervously, I place myself on the stump. It's smaller than I remember.

  He studies me with his long fingers pressed to one side of his face. “When you tried to run last night, did you think it through?”

  I look him fearlessly in the eye. “What was there to think about?”

  His lids widen to their full limit for a single second. “Still so much fire in you. Even in the best-case scenario, if you'd gotten off the property, what was the next step? Going to the police? No,” he says, waving the idea away. “They'll never believe we kept you trapped here. They'll want proof, and no one here will give you that.”

  I scowl openly. “But I'd have gotten away from you.”

  He watches me, his fingers rubbing at his temple. His hand drops to the ever-present handkerchief in his pocket. I think he's about to cough, but he just plays with the fabric. “Did you assume that because Joseph is gone that the rest of your family is, too? That we don't have them in our grasp?”

  My tongue flattens on the roof of my mouth. I had hoped that, actually. “How do I know you're not lying?”

  “You don't,” he says, biting off each word. “I think you're a nice enough girl that the assumption will keep you from anymore reckless escape attempts.” Silas twists the tip of the handkerchief, like he's pantomiming choking someone's tiny neck. I fight the urge to clasp at my own. “Dominic claims you weren't involved in Joseph's trickery. In fact, he made it sound like you're angry you were left behind.”

  I wonder what Dominic said exactly. “Yes,” I begin, picking my words. “Not many people would appreciate being abandoned.”

  His chuckle gives me goose bumps. “Fair. It's awful, him dumping us a second time. Thanks to his efforts our company was growing again. Joseph acted like an eager worker bee, before playing us like fools.”

  My hands wrap around each other as I shift on the stump. “Can I ask how he got away?”

  “Why, so you can try the same method?”

  “I wouldn't,” I say firmly. “Especially not if you have my mom, or my siblings, like you said.”

  He purses his lips. “You're sly, like your father.”

  I come very close to saying thank you. It's a real compliment, if you ask me.

  His head swings side to side. “No, I won't tell you. I don't have a reason to.” He reclines in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Annie wanted you lashed to a pole and beaten, you know. She was ready to record it and send it to every employee on our roster, all in the hopes Joseph would see, then come back to save you.”

  All the color drains from my cheeks. I'm sick from the casual way he tells me this. “That's... why would she...”

  “Because she's furious. But more than that, she's helpless.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “What do we do now? Your father drained most of our liquid cash. To stay afloat, we're going to need to sneak money from our investors while hoping they don't notice.” He laughs sardonically. “Our competitors crumbled because your father made them look weak. The second anyone finds out he did the same thing to us, we'll fade away.” He squints at me. “You don't care what happens to my business, do you?”

  There's no right answer. I bite my tongue, waiting for him to move on. Silas peers at me with his eyebrows pressing closer to the middle of his forehead.

  “Do you care what happens to you?” he asks.

  It's too close to what Dominic asked me while he pretended he was going to chop off my hair. I nod multiple times.

  He spins his chair so he can look at the far wall. “My wife has a temper. When she's directionless, she doesn't know how to use it. And what's making her so upset right now, is feeling like our bank empire is going to disappear. It almost did the first time we lost your father. All our work, our suffering, made redundant.”

  The thudding of my heart is so violent I worry it'll smash my rib cage.

  “My advice?” His smile holds no empathy for me. “Find a way to make her happy before she aims her violence at you.”

  I DON'T REMEMBER LEAVING the study. I'm too consumed by how my world is shattering. The pieces are breaking off in a way that blinds me like rain. I can't think of how to put them back together again; the shape of them is wrong.

  What's happening to the Bradleys' company has nothing to do with me. But the affects of their failures will be felt; Silas has made that very clear. Over the years, Annie has kept her distance. I thought, at the start, that she was desperate to connect with me. But I must have been wrong, because she quickly began ignoring me. The only conflict we had came from the time she'd slapped me.

  My guess? Dad made their business bloom, like they'd hoped, so she had other things to focus on. Good things; the problem of more money and more bank branches. Now, if Silas is to be believed, the good times are over...

  unless I can find a way to stall things.

  But I don't know where to start, I think, wandering the halls blindly. I don't know enough about their company to create a damn solution. Crossing into a new section of the house, I see two people at the hall's intersection: a guard, and Dominic.

  I'm torn between bolting and trying to talk to him. His eyes, as cold as ever, find mine. My temptation to flee grows... but then I hesitate. I don't know the ins and outs of the business. But HE definitely does.

  That settles it. I can't let him scare me away. He's my first hint at a solution, a way to keep Annie happy and save my own skin. Breathing in, I march towards him. He watches me approach and says something quietly to the guard. The other man glances at me before vanishing around the corner.

  It's just Dominic and me now.

  “What do you want?” he asks, before I can speak. There's a window behind him. The light makes his edges glow, his front-half sharper with shadows.

  “I want to know more about your family's company.”

  “Why?” His eyebrows inch up.

  I lick my lower lip—he watches me do it. “It's the only way fo
r me to help you and your parents out.”

  His mouth glides into a bemused smile. “You want to help us?” In a smooth motion, the kind meant for dancers, not muscled bodies like his, he blocks me against the wall. “The people who've trapped you here? People that threatened you, controlled you, and kept you from your loved ones?”

  Over his shoulder I see the green wallpaper with the red flowers I've counted just for fun. His presence makes the hallway treacherous. How is he capable of turning a sunny stretch of carpet and windows into a dungeon?

  His hand rams onto the wall next to my cheek. I jump, but I don't waver. I can't. “You don't need to remind me. I'm not doing this because I like my situation.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because it's the only way to keep your mom off my back.”

  His eyes flinch. “Who told you that?”

  “Your dad. He said I need to make her happy, or she'll start taking her moods out on me.”

  The bridge of his nose is full of grooves; they smooth away. Dominic's stare goes elsewhere. From my angle, I can see his collarbones cutting through his fitted charcoal shirt. When he inhales, his broad chest swells, nearly grazing mine. His scent swims into my nose. Once, he smelled like parchment... like books. That's been replaced by grass, and something musky; the way stags smell when they're rucking for a mate in the middle of a forest.

  He's looking at me again; was I zoning out? “You're hoping you'll come up with a plan so successful, we don't need your dad back.”

  I shrug. “If we can do anything that brings in more money, it's enough, I think.”

  Dominic smirks. “'We?'”

  “I'd do it alone if I could. It's easier with your help.”

  “Tempting,” he says, backing away. “How do I know this isn't just a way for you to help your father stay hidden?”

  “You don't, but would it matter? You want your parents happy too, or why else bother chasing me last night? You'd have let me go if you didn't care what they think.”