Chapter Twelve: Flashback (Amara)

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Amara

It took a while for me to cool down, Dominic seemed lost in thought – probably trying to figure out the purpose of the attack. One part was obvious, to get the people talking. It wasn't a secret that Dominic was pretty much the most eligible bachelor in NYC and that the media was almost always all over him, surely word would get around and his supposed 'reputation' would be ruined. Dominic was this perfect business man that now the world would know was involved with some awful things. Not to mention the giant wave of curiosity that would draw attention to me, I'll be labelled as his new 'plaything' – not that I cared what they thought or said about me.

What mattered was – besides the obvious factors – what was the real motive? They shouldn't have allowed their men to be killed so easily, they would've at least sent people to back them up. I think the sole purpose was to observe, how Dominic fights, what my relation was to him and how I fought as well. They'd figured out by now who I was, or least a small part of who I am and they wouldn't hesitate to do something about it. This meant war, I was sure of it.

"Can I use your bathroom?" I knew I was blushing but I felt like I was interrupting something, he was now sitting on his couch with blood all over his suit and blank look on his face. Deep in thought.

"Uh yeah," he rose and walked over the hall, "Just down there and the last room on your left."

"Thanks." I smiled before making my way there, I ignored the feeling that he was watching me and entered the bathroom – locking the door tight behind me.

I wonder what he thinks of me now? Is he disgusted that a woman who should be feminie, gentle and ladylike was capable of the things that I was capable of? If he wanted to marry someone I was sure it would have to be someone less manly, less intimidating, less predictable, less dangerous, less me...

I rolled my eyes at my insecurities and locked them up for another time. I was feeling these things now but later it would not matter. As I stood in the mirror I noticed things I always took notice of but never truly mattered to me because no one's opinion had mattered to me in a long time. I looked like someone who would be gentle and kind, someone who could be somebody's mother or somebody's wife. But the image was tainted by the blood on my body, smeared on my cheek and smothered all over my hands. It was like a real life horror movie and I was the psych patient.

I washed my hands then began stripping off, I ignored the voices tormenting me from my subconscious mind – your legs are too muscly – why do I care? I entered the shower and tried to forget but all I ended up doing was counting how many people I killed today... about nine. That means Dominic killed eleven. He seemed fine, like he'd forgotten and like there was much more important things to think about. That had probably been his attitude towards homicide since the very beginning, he had a task to complete, things to protect and more important things to keep his focus on. Like what comes next, not what just happened. I wished I could be like that.

I always lose control and I never forget.

**FLASHBACK**

"Amara don't cut your meat like that, I taught you how to do it properly – now please do it properly." My mother scolded from across the table a sure frown on her face, she watched as I changed my tactics in 'meat cutting' then continued to consume her own food, satisfied with my fine workmanship.

"Are you going out with Caylen this weekend? You don't have much time to spend with her you know." My dad says. I put my fork and knife down and continued to chew my food as if in deep thought, though I wasn't. I'd already made up my mind, I'd spend these last few weeks with my family – they are the ones I would miss the most. I was the only child they had left after my sister had died five years ago and they'd surely regret telling me to spend more time with my friends than them.

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