Aleatha Romig - Behind His Eyes

She shook her head. The movement was so slight. Had it not been for the movement of her hair hanging over her face, he wouldn’t have seen it.

Tony cleared his throat, reached for her chin, and brushed the renegade strands away. He wasn’t going to allow her to hide her thoughts from him. There was too much happening behind those damn green windows. His words came slowly, deliberately, and with painstaking control. “I asked you a question. Do you really want me to repeat it?”

“No, I heard you.” Her voice grew stronger, starting at a whisper and becoming bold. “No, I don’t want popcorn. I want this over.” She started to stand. “I don’t want it over!” She looked him in the eye. “I don’t want it to start!”

His chest met hers. “But it will.” His tone left no room for debate.

Obediently, her knees buckled and she collapsed back into her soft chair.

As Tony reached for the remote, Claire asked, “Why? What’s the point in this? I know what’s happened. Why do you want me to see it?”

His sinister smile returned, as did the tightness in his slacks. If Claire hadn’t been so preoccupied, she’d undoubtedly have noticed. “You seemed surprised that these videos exist. I want you to understand: I’m a man of my word. If I say something exists, it exists. If I say you will do something, you will do it. There are no gray areas. Do you understand?”

“I do.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I didn’t doubt you.” Crying interrupted her speech. “I-I don’t doubt you.” More tears. “I don’t need to see.”

“That’s enough,” he growled. He was done talking and done listening.

Tony hit a button on the remote, lowered the lights in the room, and opened the video library menu. He leaned over to emphasize his point. “I’m not interested in hearing any more. Don’t push me further.” She didn’t speak; instead, she swallowed, nodded, and tilted her tear-dampened face toward the screen which now contained dates and locations.

He’d given this a lot of thought. They had all night to view. So why not start at the beginning? Tony chose 2010, March 20, S.E Suite, and programmed the time: 8:00 AM. Before he hit ENTER, he glanced in her direction. The look he saw told him that she knew the date—and already knew what she was about to see.

The screen came to life; it was Claire’s suite:

She was wearing a white robe and lay curled up on the floor near the hall door. There was a beep and the door opened. Claire jumped, hearing the sound and seeing Tony enter.

“Good morning, Claire.” Claire looked at him.

“Good morning, Anthony. I want you to know, I’ve decided to go home. I’ll be leaving here today.”

He couldn’t contain the chuckle that rose in the back of his throat. Obviously, things didn’t proceed as she’d planned.

On the screen, with his eyes dark, he smiled and spoke, “Do you not like your accommodations?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I don’t believe you’ll be leaving so soon. We have a legally binding agreement …” He took a bar napkin from his suit pocket. “… dated and signed by both of us.”

“Please, Tony. I don’t want to see this.” Claire covered her eyes with her hands.

He’d warned her to stop this ridiculous display. Roughly grasping her wrists, he pulled them away from her eyes. Through clenched teeth he growled, “I promised a viewing. I said you would watch—and you will watch.”

He tightly held her wrists to her lap as the video progressed in real time:

Claire was speaking, her voice high-pitched and filled with desperation. “It is not the end of this discussion. This is ludicrous. An agreement doesn’t give you the right to rape me! I’m leaving.”

Tony’s hand contacted Claire’s left cheek.

Tony released Claire’s wrists and her hand moved to her cheek. He watched to be sure she wasn’t trying to cover her eyes again, but she wasn’t. Looking back to the screen, he saw himself talking:

“Perhaps in time your memory will improve. It seems to be an issue. Let me remind you again, rule number one is that you do as you are told. If I say a discussion is over, it is over, and this written agreement, which states whatever is pleasing to me, means consensual, not rape. I’ve decided that it would be better if you didn’t leave your suite for a while. Don’t worry; we have plenty of time—$215,000 worth of time.” Tony looked down. Under his shoes was broken crystal. He continued speaking. “I’ll tell the staff that you may have your breakfast after you clean up this crystal.”

He left Claire’s room.

“Please stop the video!” Claire cried. “Please, I can’t watch anymore.”

He hit the button and the menu reappeared. “Oh, there’re so many videos.” His amusement was clear. “We can watch for hours. For example …” The screen read March 19, 2010. “… how do you suppose your suite got into that condition? I’m sure we could find out.”

“Please!” she pleaded. “Please … you’re leaving tomorrow. Wouldn’t you rather spend tonight making movies instead of watching?”

When Claire sprang from her chair, Tony was about to follow and reprimand; instead, she fell to the floor and kneeled at his feet. Desperation emanated from every fiber of her being, from her red and puffy eyes to her runny nose. Not since she first arrived had he seen her so broken. Tony smirked. She was a far cry from the confident woman in her suite, just a few nights ago.

He leaned down and teased, purposely pushing her further. “Maybe we should watch some more—find out where you need improvement.”

“I’ll do anything you say, anything you want me to do differently—just tell me. Just please don’t make me watch.”

He sat back and looked at her. Truly, the dramatics were growing old. “You will do whatever I say, even if it is to watch, but,” he hesitated to add emphasis, “I don’t want to spend my last night here, for over a week, with you in this condition.” As he stood, he callously brushed her from his lap, causing her to fall back onto the carpet. “I’ll be in your suite in a few minutes.”

Claire stood.

Tony continued, “Go up and get ready. Wash your face! You look like hell, and as far as attire … I’m thinking some new lingerie.”

When she started to leave the theater, Tony gripped her arm and stalled her steps. His grip tightened as she met his gaze. They’d been through this too many times. “Claire, what do you say?”

Suddenly, he saw the fire from behind the tears as her neck straightened. It took a moment, but finally she was able to articulate the pleasantries he sought. “Thank you, Tony.”

Damn her and damn that fire. He loosened his grip. “You may demonstrate your gratitude when I get upstairs.”

He watched as she stood motionless. As the silence grew, the fire smoldered to mere embers. It was then that he instructed her movement. “You have been dismissed. You may go to your suite now.”

For every promise, there is a price to pay.

—Jim Rohn

Tony wasn’t sure what to expect, or even what he wanted to find, as he walked down the S.E. corridor. He didn’t need to check the monitors; Catherine had informed him as soon as he arrived that Claire was waiting for him in her suite. Apparently, Claire had asked Catherine about his arrival, and Catherine had said that she didn’t know the particulars.

This was the longest they’d been separated since he brought her to his estate. There’d been occasions when he’d left for a day or two due to business obligations, but this separation had been ten days. Before he left, they’d had another glitch, and he didn’t leave her in the best condition. Oh, physically she was fine. Her acquired cooperation over the last five months had greatly reduced the need for physical assertiveness, beyond what came in the heat of the moment. No, when Tony left Claire, she was emotionally spent.

Breaking her spirit had been his goal, and in true Anthony Rawlings fashion, he succeeded. He remembered every minute, both in his theater and in her suite. Tony pushed Claire to a place she didn’t want to go. He’d exhibited his power and watched as the fire behind her green eyes dimmed. Then, he purposely dowsed it some more. He remembered the note he’d left on her table:

I believe we have a blockbuster on our hands. It’s

hard to say, until we thoroughly review the footage.

I plan to return a week from Wednesday. Eric is

available if you want to visit the Quad Cities. I trust

last night’s film reminded you of my rules. Don’t

disappoint me.

He left that with the intention of quenching any renegade sparks. At the time, it had been invigorating.

Then he left and—almost immediately—the elation faded.

Tony didn’t doubt his power—it was obvious. He had the ability to make Claire’s world heaven or hell; however, for a reason that Tony didn’t fully comprehend, that control didn’t satisfy him the way it once had. From the beginning of her acquisition, he’d thought of it like a business deal. He made those every day. Companies were bought and sold. They were expanded or the doors were closed. Employees benefited or suffered—it happened.

Tony told himself over and over that Claire’s role was nothing more than that of an employee—maybe less. Therefore, when his procurement was complete, when he’d succeeded and broken her spirit, he should’ve experienced the euphoria that accompanied a hard-fought gain. In the case of this acquisition, taking Claire’s mind and spirit had been more difficult than taking her body. It would seem as though his jubilation should’ve lasted longer than the car ride to the plane. It didn’t.