Stolen & Fractured

by Cee Smith

  “Of course I don’t mind watching Ellie. I love her. And I think some time alone with Hailey will be good. For the both of you. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I’m not sure what’s going on with you right now, but don’t lose sight of everything you have here.” Clema’s whispered solemn words carried up to the rafters and across the barren walls, meeting my ears down the hall. I sent a silent thank you to Clema. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot when I was held in captivity, but she had a way with Dominic that nobody else could replicate. I knew if she couldn’t get through to Dominic then we really had no hope for our future.

  “I’m trying, Clema. That’s the most I can do right now.”

  “What’s for breakfast?” I harped, breaking past the corner to see them both huddled in the kitchen. Clema immediately broke away from Dominic as if she’d been caught conspiring. Dominic’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment as if trying to syphon how much of their conversation I’d picked up on. When I didn’t quake beneath his glare, he hit me with one of his charming smiles, unwrinkling all of the trepidations of last night’s conversation.

  “Clema’s actually going to pack a few things for us. You and I have a full day ahead of us.”

  I glided across the gleaming floors and wrapped my small arms around Dominic’s waist. My head met the center of his chest, and his arms came down across my shoulders hesitantly as if he were unsure of my embrace. His body leaned into mine as his doubts caved like dominoes—what he feared I wasn’t sure. I knew if Dominic had something to say, he would say it. So I ignored his initial reservations and simply held him in my arms, filling my lungs with his musky citrus scent.

  He pressed a lingering kiss on my head before pulling away and making his way back to the bedroom. When I looked up, Clema was already a blur of movement as she began pulling things off shelves for our day ahead.

  ***

  “Who knew you were such a softie?” I chuckled as Dominic passed me the blanket that was bundled beneath his arm. The blanket caught in the wind as I shook it out across the sand. Dominic led us down a private path that led to the beach just beyond the resort we were staying at. The beach was secluded, surrounded by a thicket that felt like we were on a deserted island.

  It could have been my need for being alone with Dominic, or that we were actually having a picnic, but the day was perfect. It was a day people write about, with “just right” weather and a cloudless sky with birds sharing their happiness with us. The wind kicked up just enough to make my hair feel like it was floating. Water broke against sand that looked like crumbling biscotti, and the sound lulled us into a serene cloud of solidarity. In that moment there was no one else but us—no media, no betraying family members, no concern about what we would do for a living. There was just us. Surprisingly, Dominic looked the most rested I’d ever seen him.

  “Only for you,” he said more to himself than in response to my earlier remark.

  “What was that?” My face was tilted up toward the sun, letting the warm rays cascade across my skin. The grumble of Dominic’s words broke through the bubble built on the landscape of the perfect day.

  “You,” he said, setting the cooler down before his body was draped across the majority of the blanket. “You’re the only one that gets to see this side of me.”

  My upper body was propped up by my elbows, with my legs outstretched. I turned to look at Dominic. He was lying on his side, facing me with black pools that watched me with a faraway look. There in the depths I saw a slight flicker, something sharp. It could have been a reflection. Perhaps it was a momentary shift in clouds. Whatever it was had vanished and my Dominic had returned to me.

  “That’s not true. Clema sees that side of you, too.”

  “No, what you’re seeing is how Clema sees me, which is something akin to a son. That’s her perception, not reality. You’re the only one who’s ever seen the real me.”

  “Is that because you kidnapped me?” I didn’t say it to see him wince at my words, but I needed to know that I knew Dominic not by default, but because he chose me to be the one he shared himself with. I knew that it was a needy feeling that inspired my questioning, but Dominic wasn’t one to freely offer feelings of security. If I wanted something, I would have to take it, and at that moment, I needed reassurance.

  “Hailey.” My name came out like a disappointment between full lips. “I figure you’re deserving of my sweet side. I have my moments, you know. You should take advantage of it.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Or, if you’d prefer my sadistic side, I can make that happen, too,” he said with that devilish smirk that came so naturally to him.

  “You would just love that, wouldn’t you?” I said while launching into him. I pounced on him and we both crashed against the blanket, mussing it up as we rolled about. We spun like hamsters in a wheel, tumbling down the slope of the beach before Dominic successfully pinned me down.

  “OK, OK. You win.” I said with hands raised in submission as his hands gripped my upper arms pinning me, while his teeth clamped down across the column of my neck. His bite was gentle, but the threat was there no less. His jaw shook with restraint, showing that it took more power to withhold than to just clamp down ripping into the soft flesh that tempted him. I felt his smile against my skin just as his tongue traversed from one side of my neck to the other. He gave me a peck on the lips just before he settled down against me, his body thrown over mine so that every part of him was touching every part of me.

  “I always win, Hailey,” he murmured into my ear. My hair rustled against the side of my face, tickling me with the truth of his words. A fire licked down my body, singeing every nerve with rampant desire for the man whose black pools gazed down at me with unbridled intensity. I felt him thicken against my stomach as we drowned in each other’s eyes. That moment was what I’d always dreamed of, everything I’d ever imagined to feel for a husband—to simply be lost in another person so unequivocally that no words were needed to convey what I was feeling. Dominic had that in spades. According to him, I’d always held that look for him, from those first moments after I woke up to find I’d been kidnapped in that crumbling building in Australia to the moment I watched him hold Elliana for the first time.

  Dominic and I lounged around on the beach for the majority of the day, eating sandwiches that Clema made, while talking aimlessly. We basked in the warm rays of the sun and watched as the sky faded from a bright blue to a golden orange, and finally, to a hazy pink.

  The day was so wonderful, I ignored all of the alarms that had been sounding: the vague business trip to Chicago, the unplanned vacation, the conversation I’d just overheard him having with Clema. All of the things that I felt he purposely avoided telling me.

  “I got something for you,” he said while rustling in the basket he carried out here with us. I peeked over his shoulder to see what he was attempting to pull out, but all I saw was a flash of corded rope, which he quickly brushed aside before pulling out a flat square box. I sat on my knees with my feet tucked beneath me, and he spread his legs so they surrounded me on either side of my body. When he turned to face me, he held the box firmly within both hands.

  The box was a black crushed velvet, typical of any container that usually held jewelry of some sort.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were buttering me up.”

  “And why would I do that? Your happiness does mean a great deal to me, but do you forget?” he said slyly as he bent his knees, closing me in between his legs. One hand released the box he held and his other hand shot out, clasping tightly against the back of my neck as his cool breath fanned across me. “I own you.” The kiss that followed wasn’t like the shy, sweet kisses he’d showered me with for most of the day. No, it seemed that the fading light lured the animal out, and with dusk approaching, the feral rawness that he kept tightly reined was bursting at the seams to make its presence known. I stilled—from the fading light, the coldness of his words, or the wa
y his lips assaulted mine, I couldn’t be sure, but when his teeth nipped my bottom lip beckoning me to engage, I did.

  I leaned back, taking in the look that crossed his face—shadows bloomed across his tan skin, giving him a statuesque look rivaling those dotted around the city. Those cruelly arched eyebrows furrowed above dark eyes, and the corners of his mouth tipped up in a sort of smug tilt. It all worked to leave me feeling stripped bare before a man that I sometimes questioned whether I ever truly knew. It wasn’t a look a husband gives a wife, a confidant, a lover. It was a look that breathed darkness with every rise and fall of his chest. A look I didn’t expect nor anticipate from a man who stood across from me less than five months ago vowing to live in the light with me.

  It could have been the way my shoulders tensed up beneath that glare of his, or maybe even the shift of my knees as I tried to discreetly put some distance between us, but he seemed to shake the look from his face. As if remembering why he had the box in his hands, he shifted it to one palm and used his other hand to creep open the lid.

  Sitting there atop more crushed velvet gleamed a bangle with three large strips of gold. Rows of black diamonds lay across the center of each strip.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, reaching out with a tentative hand to feel the metal that looked as smooth as water except for the rocks that sparkled. Despite the thinness of the metal, the band felt solid and heavy beneath my touch, and I wondered what it would feel like on.

  “Here, let me.” His whispered words fanned across me like liquid chocolate, milky smooth temptation. My skin prickled with awareness at the way his knee nudged my hip.

  His hands cradled the metal, and I was patient as he held out my hand and shimmied the metal around the smallest part of my wrist. The cuff was about three inches thick, surrounding me from the base of my hand to my forearm. Dominic still held my hand as I shifted my arm, watching the way the fading light played on the diamonds like oil moving across sand.

  “Do you know what this reminded me of?” he asked, pulling my hand to his mouth as he began kissing me. The feel of my wrists pulled tightly together between his fixed grip was in stark opposition to the soft kiss of his lips against my skin. On instinct, I tried to free myself from his grip, but he held me firm.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve cuffed you to the bed.”

  I looked down at the bracelet again and it was as though the material transformed into the thick, rustic cuffs and linked chain he had used when he held me captive.

  “You remember.”

  Dominic’s lips found the nape of my neck where he nipped and licked, and I closed my eyes at the feel of his full lips brushing across my skin and the way my flesh reacted to the closeness of his heat. That look he gave me a mere five minutes earlier was already forgotten. That was the problem with Dominic. He held a command over my body that often left me feeling like an amnesic-nympho. I could only remember as far back as the last time he kissed me, held me, fucked me into a realm of nothingness.

  I tipped my head back, leaning into the heat of his mouth, relishing the hand that dropped down across my breast, tweaking my nipple with invigorated lust.

  “The night’s not over yet, but we need to head back.”

  “Mmm,” I groaned as the flood of desire went unacknowledged by Dominic.

  Dominic led me inside the house with a pat to my butt like he was a coach gesturing “good game.” Except, I wasn’t so sure that I was ready to play. I was nervous and tense from the heavy anticipation that twisted between us like a tantrum-throwing toddler, but I continued my trek through the house back to the bedroom. Just like he said, there was something waiting for me.

  Seeing the clothes—if one could call them that—laid out made me nostalgic. Was it wrong that I held a modicum of happiness in having Dominic take away my choices? When I thought about it, things were much simpler when I didn’t have to worry about what was next. When there wasn’t an expectation to be the best daughter, worker, student, sister—when the pressure of merely existing wasn’t so stifling.

  The lingerie was dainty thin with a combination of silk and lace in a pastel floral print. It was delicate and feminine, and after a few months of living in New York—when I saw the Agent Provocateur tags—I knew that these were top of the line undergarments made to make me feel every bit the woman that Dominic craved. I slipped out of the dress, and the whoosh of the fabric hitting the hardwood floors made my skin erupt in goosebumps. I pulled on the bra and panties, followed by the garters, before making my way to the closet to put on the Kelly-green dress that would be the finishing touch to my garden ensemble.

  After I did an enthusiastic twirl in the mirror, I decided I was happy with the results. I touched up my makeup and teased my hair for volume, before emerging back in the living room where Dominic sat on the couch waiting.

  “What do you think?” I asked, dancing my way between where he sat and the ottoman in the center of the room. I caught a glimpse of his hungry eyes before I twirled, giving me the confidence to trot around. There was something about wearing pretty things that made me feel like a whole new woman. There was also something about Dominic picking out my clothes that made me feel like I needed to put on a show for him.

  “You’re beautiful, Hailey.” He held his arms out in front of him, showing just where he wanted me to position myself. I sidled between his open legs and his firm hands clasped my hips. His hands were so warm. It felt like he would burn through the material at my waist and brandish my skin, forever marking me as his.

  “Now, take it off.”

  He spoke so quietly. I almost didn’t hear his words. When my mind caught on to what he said, I stood stunned at what he was asking. My eyes danced around the empty room, half expecting someone else to be there to hear what he was asking of me. Or, perhaps I already knew that I would obey and only wanted to see on a scale of slightly embarrassed to completely mortified, which one I should be leaning toward.

  “Dominic, I thought you wanted to go back out?”

  “I do. We are. Now, do as I say.” His words came out clipped, showing how thin his restraint was. It was always when he spoke with measured words, barely disciplined into a calm façade, that made me worry about how close he was to falling apart. It seemed the picture-perfect day we had earlier was gone. Either I was getting slower at catching on or his moods were becoming more drawn out, fading at a slower rate until I’d almost forgotten that we were having a good day.

  Dominic led me outside. In nothing more than my underwear, I trailed behind him with arms held tight around my waist. The amount of dignity I had left could fit in what little fabric covered my body. What if one of the others comes outside and sees us? What will they think of the meek, little wife traipsing after her husband in nothing more than her underwear? I could have told him no, but part of me wondered what would happen next. It wasn’t that I feared him. I was scared of what another blow would do to our already fragile relationship. How many more hits could we take? And I was sure that me saying “no” would be exactly that. A hit. Dominic didn’t hear “no” often, especially not from my mouth, so I could only imagine how unsettling that would be.

  The night absorbed all of the fading light. Only a sliver of the white moon remained, so far away that the path was barely illuminated. Barefoot, I followed across pebble-riddled soil and messy roots that clambered at my ankles, inching to pull me down. They would have to get in line. Dominic had first dibs.

  If I weren’t so wrapped in my own thoughts, I would have noticed what hung in Dominic’s hand much sooner. Maybe then my feelings would have leaned a little more toward fear instead of being hung up on my embarrassment. His long, thick fingers curled around what looked to be coiled rope. Was that what I saw in the basket earlier? A flash of coarse tan thread invaded my thoughts—the same coarse tan thread that now felt ominous inside Dominic’s hands.

  “Dominic?”

  “Hmm?” He grunted as he led us farther away from the resort and deeper int
o the trees.

  “Um, is tha—is that rope?”

  His head snapped down to the cord bundled within his hand before those cold eyes snapped back to me. It was a look that said I dare you to ask another question. He held his stare long enough to ensure that he got his point across before retraining his focus on the darkness that lay ahead.

  We walked another thirty feet or so before I saw his head lift to assess the location we were standing in. The trees there were tall like palm trees but with fuller leaves that went farther down the base, blocking out even more of the shy moon.

  “Stand here. Don’t move.”

  “Dominic, you’re kind of scaring me,” I whispered the words that reminded me of the girl who woke up alone in a cement room with nothing but fear to keep her company.

  “A little fear will do you some good. Now, stay still. Arms up and out.”

  My arms were shaking like my veins were fueled by caffeine. Spasms wracked my frame as I lifted my arms out between two trees like I was offering myself up for crucifixion. The rope unraveled from Dominic’s hand and he moved to the tree on my right, pulling the length around the trunk before knotting it securely. After giving it a quick tug he passed in front of me, a cream colored blur amongst the darkness. His scent of musky oranges mixed with the lingering ocean calmed my nerves until only my hands were left quivering. I tried to catch his eyes, but he stayed steadfast on his task with eyebrows dropped low over his eyes, and his mouth thin, revealing his own tension.

  I used the flair of his nostrils, the steady stream of air that he sucked in and expelled in a hypnotic rhythm, to lull me into a serene type of daydream. Where instead of being strung up between those trees, I was drifting on a cloud, my backside hugged tight from the hammock that dangled between the tree trunks that so perfectly held the ropes that Dominic fastened. I closed my eyes and swayed to the chorus of cicada mating calls. Everything felt so far away in the bubble I had created here.