Obedience Lessons

Chapter Twenty-five

Andy's POV

Dylan had come home with marks on his face, and as he told me what happened I made my decision not to tell him about the money. He was obviously shaken, and despite how brave he had been all of that drained out of him when he came through the doors. His body trembled uncontrollably and he eyed the sharp objects with obvious want.

I distracted him again that night.

Dylan's father had responded the next day. I'm a busy man. But we'll meet Friday night. Clear your schedule.

The smile crawled onto my face without me knowing. I wanted him ruined for what he was putting Dylan through. That gave me just enough time to gather more Intel. As the week progressed I learned more about him from the internet, from magazines and from a confused Dylan who didn't understand my interest but who told me enough about him for me to get an understanding of who the man was.

I reduced contact with Dylan to a minimum, never staying the night in the hopes of showing signs of pulling away or at least heeding Ryman's warning. Dylan grew frustrated each time I dragged on my jeans, protesting that I had classes the next day and couldn't spend the night with him even though I wanted to. I did want to. But it made no difference since I had made my decision.

I skipped my Thursday class to visit Dylan's building, despite knowing he wouldn't be there after two since he had a function to attend. My target was Louisa, a sugary slip of a woman that was Dylan's assistant. She would help me if I could get her somewhere we could talk, and her help would be invaluable. A woman on the inside.

I leaned casually onto her desk and gave a winning smile. She looked up, confused for a fraction of a moment before regaining composure. "May I.... help you?"

"Can we talk?" I said plainly.

Her eyes took me in and I read the recognition in her eyes. "Of course, is it about Mr. Dylan?"

"Yes. I know he's not here, but maybe we can go somewhere... less hot. The silence in here is killing me too." She got the picture quick, catching on and getting out of her chair.

"The roof is a good place to get some air," She replied, gesturing upwards.

Out on the roof the sounds of the city travelled up and all around us, the wind billowed around us and the view took my breath away. Louisa spoke first, "Dylan doesn't know you're here, does he?"

"You're perceptive," I complimented, "That must help you out a lot, right? I need information, and from the way Dylan talks about you, you're just the gal." I would trust her. Only because it wouldn't have made sense for her to even go to Dylan in the first place. Not if she was in Ryman's pocket.

"Look, I probably know what you're going to say, but it's a dead end, I've already tried and all I got is a speculation that Dylan can't even confirm. Something's wrong... up here," she tapped her head.

"He's not crazy," I defended.

Louisa rose her hands in surrender, "Did I say that? But the guy really can't remember, and something's up. If I can't prove it, I don't see what difference it will make besides putting me out of a job."

"What about if I get that part of the info? All I need now are contacts, places he goes to, people he sees, hobbies, I wanna know everything you can get me..."

"What does that get me?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Name your price." I said, thinking about my newly acquired wealth in the bank.

"I don't want money," Louisa hinted, "When this is done, we'll be talking again."

"Sure."

She hesitated. "I already pulled together a few things. Nothing electronic, those are easy to trace. But you can start with Pandora's Pub, it's a speakeasy down by Plumspring. He visits anytime he happens to be in Tennessee. It's probably one of the more interesting things about your guy."