The Dominant's Obsession

Chapter 5

D A C I A N

Dacian hid in the furthest corner of the apartment, tucking his small body into the smallest ball he could. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his hands over his ears, trying to block out the horrible sounds, but it wasn't working. He just wanted to disappear, but no matter how hard he tried, he remained agonizingly present...

Dacian jolted awake. His heart was pounding and a thin sheen of sweat covered him from head to toe. He sat up and cast off the damp sheets as he sank his head into his hands. When he'd caught his breath and his pulse had evened out, he glanced over at the clock on his nightstand.

4:15 blinked back at him in dim orange letters. A sigh escaped him as he rose to his feet. Long years of experience had taught him it was no use trying to fall back asleep after one of his nightmares.

He stretched out on his wrestling mat buck-ass naked and started doing sit-ups. The plastic liner was cool and soothing on his hot, sweat-soaked skin. He moved through his workout routine on autopilot, from sit-ups to plank, push-ups, burpees, lunges, and finally his punching bag. His nightmares always left him a live wire, high-strung energy coursing through his veins. Physical exertion was the only effective remedy.

As he worked over his punching bag, sweat dripping down his bare body, Disturbed blasting through his earbuds, the slap of his wrapped knuckles hitting the plastic yanked him into the past. Aggression rolled through him as he felt the blows hitting his ribs like it was yesterday. As he heard her cries echoing off the walls, bouncing back at him, reminding him to get up and keep fighting.

He stilled the bag, breathing hard as sweat dripped from his brow into his eyes. He pushed his palms into his closed eyes, willing the flashback to end. He searched in his brain for a new train of thought, anything that could take the place of the past...

Allie. He flipped his lids open. His harsh breathing stabilized.

Was she awake right now below him, listening to his workout? His lips curled in a devilish smile. Sadistically, he hoped she was.

At least then he wouldn't be alone in his torment.

He resumed his workout, beating the shit out of the inanimate bag like it was the source of all his pain. The jolts to his knuckles, jarring up his arms, helped to ground him in the present moment.

Would she make good on her threats and find a way to punish him for his insomniac activities? He almost hoped she would, but sincerely doubted it. He rather suspected she was all bark and no bite.

What he'd give to be proven wrong, just to be entertained. Hell, to be surprised.

He almost felt bad for her. Almost. But it wasn't like he had much of a choice. The gym downstairs didn't open until 7 AM.

When the clock blinked 6:00, he hopped in the shower. As he went through the soap-and-shampoo routine, he found his thoughts wandering back to her again. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to stay out there and torture her so. Something about her open defiance had piqued his interest and made him want to challenge her, just to see how she would react.

Though he knew he shouldn't, he wondered when he would see her again. She lived right below him, after all. They were bound to run into each other eventually – in the lobby, the mailroom, the elevator.

The fire escape.

Don't even think about it. You know the rules.

He shut off the cold water and toweled off, combing his hair with his fingers. He brushed his teeth, then pulled on the same jeans as yesterday and a grey t-shirt. He ate a protein bar for breakfast as he walked to the station, his earbuds blasting metal again. On the train, he kept his gaze on his phone to avoid the eyes of strangers, skimming the news as he held onto the support rail with one hand.

When he got to work, the offices were once again nearly empty as he collected coffee from the kitchen and enclosed himself in his office. Then he dove back into the code he'd left off working on Friday evening.

Some might look at his extended hours and call him a workaholic. The truth was, he'd rather be working on the problems on his screen than immersed in his own. At least runtime exceptions were easy to fix.

His own? Not so much.

Hours melted away as he coded up the new class he needed, in which he was blissfully able to forget all about himself. At some point there was a curt knock on his door.

"Come in," he called without looking up. He heard the door slide open, and out of his peripheral vision he saw two figures in the doorway.

"Dacian," Anders said, "I'd like you to meet our newest team member."

At this, Dacian's gaze flicked over – and he froze.

A pair of startled blue eyes stared back at him.