Dominion (6 page)

He cut me off with a “don’t even go there.” Then he walked over to me with a smile on his face and took the bow from me.

“
I’m so proud of you,” he said as he put my bow on the ground. “I’m really, truly proud of you,” he said again as he threw his arms around me. It was now that I realized my body hurt from the combat training.

“
My little girl.” He pulled away. “Look at you, all grown up.” I believed from the tone of his voice that he was proud of me.

“
Logan is a good teacher,” I told him. “And I’d take care of Mom, so don’t worry when you leave. Nothing will happen to us.”

“
I’m worried about you, too, honey,” he said. “And I never wanted you in my crazy world. When you were born, I dreamed of riding ponies and having princess tea parties with you. And now, you’re not my little girl anymore.” My father sounded sad, and I knew he regretted the life that we were forced to live.

“
Dad.” I forced a smile. “I’m all right. Besides, ponies and princesses are overrated.”

He smiled. “I’d still have loved to attend a tea party with you,” he said, pulling me into another hug. I winced against his chest.

“
Maybe next time,” I said, hoping those three days he’d spent with my mother and me weren’t the only time we had with him.

“
It’s a date,” he whispered, still holding on to me. I wanted to pull away from him because my body ached, but I didn’t, because hugging him was something I wished could happen daily. “I’m on a break for two months, so I’ll be popping in often.”

I felt my spirit light up with happiness. “Can’t you just stay with us?”

“
You know I can’t.”

I knew that would be the answer the moment I opened my mouth to ask the question, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking it anyway. I couldn’t let go of the hope that he would one day say yes.

“
Come on, let’s clean up and get you home to confess,” and with that we went to work cleaning up after ourselves.

The ride back home was much more fun and relaxed. We talked about different ways I could tell my mother that I broke her lamp. He talked about some of the places he’d been, and I told him about my friends and things my mother and I did while he was away.

When we got home, my mother took one look at me and started telling my father never to take me anywhere near the CIA training center again, but of course, she always said this. I took the opportunity to tell her that I broke her lamp, but she didn’t even care, she just continued to grill my father.

I hung out for a while with my parents and then said goodbye so they could have time alone together. My mother was always happiest when she was around my father, so I made sure she was able to spend time with him alone whenever he visited. When my parents were together, their happiness was infectious. Everyone around them smiled because they looked so in love. I loved seeing them together because whenever my father was around, our lives felt complete.

I was glad my father was going to be dropping in and out for two months. I would be able to spend more time with him, and my mother would smile without pain in her eyes.

The only time I saw my mother happy—besides the times my father came to visit—was when she was with me. I was the center of her universe. She lit up when she talked about fashion because she loved it, but whenever I smiled or laughed, she automatically did the same.

It was the same for my father when he was with me. He loved when I was happy. Every time he came to visit, he constantly tried to make me laugh. I loved seeing them happy, too, so I attempted to do whatever would bring them happiness. Going back into my room, I didn’t think much of my pain. Instead, I was delighted with my father’s pride in my training skills.

I’d trained with Logan for years. The first time Logan handed me a gun, although it had been empty, I freaked out. We started my training with paintballs and empty guns until I was ready to train with a real gun. I didn’t understand then why I had to learn to use those weapons just because of my father’s work, but now I did—the world was a battlefield, and I was born right in the middle of it.

Now I could hold any weapon without flinching. Training with Logan wasn’t something my mother was happy with, especially when it came to guns, but she couldn’t forbid me to learn because she agreed that I needed to be able to defend myself. However, she herself never trained. I suspected it was due to her aversion to weapons.

The scariest thing about knowing how to use all those weapons was how much I was always tempted to put my knowledge of them to the test. I didn’t share this desire with my mother. What she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.

INNOCENCE

“
We live and learn to share good laughs.

We try and we cry to play sad songs.

We stay and we go to say goodbyes.

And we hate and love to share memories.”

Melody Manful

šœ

“
A
bby, is everything all right up there?”

Crap. “Yes, Mom, I’m almost done!” I jumped off my bed and hurried into my walk-in closet. For some reason, my body wasn’t hurting anymore from training the previous night.

My mother was launching her pre-spring collection, an addition to her fashion line
Cells
. Although I knew she was still sad that my father left, she wasn’t about to miss the after-party. She asked me to get ready for the party, but instead I took a shower, called my friends, and rushed into bed to read
Romeo and Juliet
for the millionth time.

I grabbed the first dress I saw upon entering my closet. I was in luck; I had retrieved a red, short Alexander McQueen dress. I tugged it on and then snatched a pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps from a shelf and rushed into my bathroom. I quickly brushed my hair, slipped into the heels, and dashed out of my room as fast as I could.

“
I know you don’t like crowds, honey, but please smile for me tonight,” my mother said when I came downstairs. She stood together with one of my bodyguards, Ben, who was a dapper thirty-three-year-old with thinning blonde hair. Ben clutched a camera in his hand.

“
Mom, I’m happy for you,” I said, repeating a response I’d said so many times before. I hated being famous and having to smile and pose for the paparazzi, not to mention being an accomplice to their cheesy fake stories. Sometimes I wished I could trade places with a regular person, but then I remembered that I should be grateful for what I had.

“
Smile, Abby,” Ben said as he snapped a picture of my mother and me. “You look beautiful,” he added, and my smile disappeared.

The camera’s flash reflected on the chandelier hanging between the double staircase, reminding me of all the cameras that were probably about to invade my space.

“
Stop saying that, Ben,” my mother teased. “Abby still thinks she’s ugly.”

“
Abby, you know beautiful doesn’t just mean having good looks,” he said. “You’re brilliant and caring. And that makes you beautiful.”

“
I have the media talking about everything I do all the time. At school, it’s like I’m parting the Red Sea when I walk down the hall, and kids keep showing me magazines and asking for beauty tips.” I hated being a part of the chaos, but my mother and Ben just laughed.

“
They do that because you inspire them,” my mother said, just like she always did when the topic snaked its way into our conversations. Couldn’t someone else inspire them? Why me?

I wasn’t surprised my mother said this, even at the age of forty-two she looked like she was thirty. She had dark, wavy hair that cascaded down her shoulders and golden brown eyes like mine. She’d always been the cool, beautiful mother. She graced the covers of a lot of magazines. I’d lost count long ago of how many times she’d been named the most beautiful or one of the most beautiful women alive. Each year her name was at least mentioned in that category.

“
I just want to come home and be Abigail, not a beauty queen…just me.”

“
So innocent, so adorable.” My mother posed for one last picture with me.

I wasn’t innocent or adorable. As a matter of fact, I was sometimes the opposite of the loving, caring, role model Abigail that everyone knew. The public loved me because I was charitable. My fans loved me because of my mother—it didn’t hurt that I’d inherited her sense of style and her friendly nature. My family and friends loved me because I was Abigail.

And by my friends’ and family’s definitions, Abigail meant a clumsy, loving, caring, awkward, and selfless young lady who would do anything for those she loves. Yes, that was the Abigail everyone knew. However, there was another Abigail, too—one who liked the rush of danger and playing with guns. I didn’t quite understand her because she was nothing like the Abigail that everyone loved. That other, secret Abigail was lethal.

—–

J
ump—don’t jump—jump—don’t jump—jump—don’t—

“
Abigail!” my best friend Sarah shouted my name, jerking me back from my reverie.

Damn, I should have jumped.

I looked around, only to realize I was in a restroom. I could hear music booming in the background. I knew I was at the party, I just didn’t remember how I arrived.

“
You weren’t planning on sneaking out through the window, were you?” Sarah walked toward me.

“
Do you have a ladder?”

Although my friends and I were close, they didn’t know about my training. To them I was the luckiest girl alive. I had a mother who loved me, and we were rich as well.

I didn’t tell them about our past; after all, what was I supposed to say? “Hey, by the way, my father isn’t dead, he’s not allowed to see me because he’s a secret agent, and he has to stay away from my mother and me because his presence would put us in danger.”

Yeah, I was pretty sure that conversation would be a shock. So, I did the only thing I could—kept half of my life hidden.

“
If you make me miss this party, I’m going to kill you.” Sarah frowned, snatching my lipstick and bag away from me. For the first time, I noticed her beautiful, gold, strapless, satin Cells dress. Sarah looked gorgeous as always with her hair fanning out around her shoulders. I’ve always admired her beauty, her big brown eyes, and her flawless dark skin. Black was indeed beautiful.

“
You can go have fun, and I’ll join later.”

My lie did not convince her. “Abby, let’s go,” Sarah ordered, clutching my hand and pulling me along.

Sarah managed to get me out of the restroom despite me dragging my feet. When we came out, I remembered why I ran away. The music was too loud. The place was filled with noise, the press, cameras, and guys who only wanted to date me because I was famous.

I didn’t want to be there because of the press. Sarah didn’t let go of my hand until we reached my two other best friends, Jake and Danny, two funny seventeen-year-olds whom I loved having in my life.

Jake was a charming skater boy and the kind of person who’d been to detention more times than I could count. Danny was handsome and brilliant, and he mostly had a calm nature. Sarah was the cheer captain—understanding, loving, and beautiful. Me? I was just the rich, famous kid.

When I saw that Jake was dressed like a descendant of Shakespeare, I forgot my escape plans. What was he thinking?

Danny teased. “Dude, Shakespeare called, and he wants his outfit back!” We broke into loud laughter. When the laughter faded, a cameraman snapped my picture, and I again remembered why I didn’t want to be there.

“
You’re thinking about going home, aren’t you?” Sarah knew me all too well. “Why?” They stared, waiting for an answer. “Why?” Sarah demanded again. “Every guy here wants to dance with you.”

“
I don’t care if every guy here wants to dance with me. I just want to go home.” This wasn’t a lie. I’d rather be at home watching Discovery Channel. “Besides, guys just want one thing.”

“
And what is that?” a voice from behind me asked. “Excuse me.” The voice that spoke sounded sweet, like a heavenly symphony, and even though the place was packed with noises, I didn’t hear anything except him. “Hello,” he said, and since I was sure I couldn’t avoid responding, I slowly turned.

My eyes went straight to the stranger’s big, black, army boots, then up to his rough-cut jeans, then to his ebony shirt and black leather jacket. Finally, my eyes reached his face. I couldn’t breathe when I saw him. Everything about his chiseled features spoke of danger, even his messy, dark hair. I unabashedly stared.

He was unusual, reminding me of a painting of an angel. So beautiful, yet every bone in my body told me to run away from him. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t want to find out. I sensed raw danger.

Beware of the angels you invite in, for some are only demons in disguise,
I thought. I pushed the warning aside.

“
I didn’t mean to disturb you.” His voice enchanted me. “My car just broke down, and I was wondering if I could get directions to the nearest bus stop.” I could see his perfect lips moving, the colored lights glinting off his dark hair, but I didn’t hear anything else he said.