Obedience Lessons

Chapter Forty-one

Dylan's POV

My mind didn't obey when I told it not to overreact. I'd just seen my boyfriend, no fuck, he was way more than that - more than even my Dom - jump into a fucking sports car that I'd never seen him with before and speed away to do God knows what. Save Gotham perhaps?

Now why the heck would something like that upset me, you ask? Of course it fucking did! I turned off the stove before putting back on my boots. I wasn't going to stay here like a sitting duck while Andy was out on his dirty job. I tried to tell myself he wasn't doing what I thought he was doing but somewhere at the back of my head it made sense. All the tricks and encouraging talks, the lack of fucking and goodbye kisses as he sent me home? Bullshit. All bullshit. The whole thing reeked of my father. And now a car. A car just like Liam's no less. Andy had better have some fucking answers whenever I saw him again, and they better add up.

I didn't realise where I was headed until I had reached my home and was staring at the face of the security on duty. Somewhere along the way it had begun to drizzle steadily, wetting my hair and clothes.

"Are you okay, sir," the big guy with five o'clock shadow looked at me like I had lost my mind. Maybe I had.

"I don't know, Rick. You tell me since you're so damn good at documenting my every move." I don't know exactly where it came from inside of me, but after I told him that he shut up and looked away. I marched up the driveway in a daze, and got into my car just as it really began to pour.

My whole life was filled with Ryman acquisitions. When I was fourteen, we'd acquired the Washington estate, and our family moved there despite the original family home being right here in Tennessee. Our home, my friends and Liam's extra-curricular activities never were a consideration, although Liam had a band here. I remember he used to play the guitar and take me cycling.

Dad was often away before we moved to Washington. Then suddenly, he was everywhere. And he was never satisfied with just a bit of room. My dad grew to fit space, and when there was no more space he stretched you thin until you stopped being you, and became more an extension of him.

Liam became his prize acquisition. And I was the son who was the ribbon pinned to the trophy. Decorative. Pretty fucking useless when you finally put the trophy in its case. Where does the ribbon go?

I loved my brother. But maybe somewhere inside I'd also hated him for being the golden boy. For getting everything right. For the straight A's and obsessive type A personality that made him naturally good at everything. Maybe that was when I gave up trying to be like him, and played up new strengths. The things I knew he sucked at. A sex life was one of them. His true feelings another. Having fun with people like me and using the freedom he could never have. It had never occurred to me that my perfect brother might have envied me too. Not until I looked him in the eyes the night before he killed himself.

My head always started to pound when I tried to remember what he'd said, and if I had really said anything in return. I didn't know if I even tried to help. Knowing myself I probably said something selfish, to hurt him. I probably said something that pushed him too far and made him hang himself.

I was crying without knowing it. The droplets fell onto my forearms that still gripped the steering wheel tightly as if it were a lifeline. I was parked by my office, although I couldn't remember driving here or even why I'd come here. Except maybe that I did. From this office, at least I was nothing to do with Andy. Here, I had some amount of power even if it came from my father. Tonight I would get some answers at least, one way or the other.

The lights responded automatically when I entered my office, casting a bright glow to everything that made it seem eerie. The prospect of answers was suddenly less appealing, but I forged ahead.

That car that Andy left in... I knew it from deep inside me. How many times did Liam have to pick me up from the clubs, or from hotels in the morning? How many times did he drop me off at college when I was still too tipsy to hold a wheel? That car was half mine from the amount of time I had spent in shotgun, and I hadn't even thought about where it went after Liam was buried. I had gotten basically everything of Liam's when he died. Even the fucking house. Why had I never gotten his car? How could I have even forgotten it?

I started by tracking the family's known assets on my computer, pulling up records of purchases and transactions made from within the year 2015, when the car was purchased, hot out of the factory. That was the year we'd bought Safari lands, an island off the coast of India, a new private jet and two new estates. One of them was a retreat for mom, and the other was meant to be a graduation present to me. Except my father withheld it from me when I didn't make the honour roll.

There it was. The Audi R8 my brother got right after my graduation ceremony in addition to his Ferrari. The car's most recent transaction was updated right in front of me with the latest record being four hours ago, a transport turning it over to the ownership of Andrew Killian Burrie for close to half a million dollars.

Rage blinded me before betrayal cased over my heart in stone. I followed the transaction of payment to an account number and did a search feature on the record holder in our accounting databases. Andy's bank account number has been in receipt of a total of four transactions from HiCaliber's private payrolls. The payrolls that ran through my father's office. Damn you, Andrew Burrie.

Footsteps coming down the halls just outside my door had me on the alert as to who would be entering the facility off hours. Maybe just one of the assistants checking in to return a file or to get in some overtime. I stopped and listened.

The footsteps ended just outside my doors and I realised that they must have seen the lights on. Fuck. I didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

I didn't recognize the men that burst into the room, causing me to startle. Were they here to rob the company? How didn't security detain them? Then someone I did recognize stepped forward ahead of them. It was Louisa, wrapped in a long trench coat that still dripped with rain. "Mr. Dylan," She said, calm and low. Her voice was always so cautious and calculated. "Mr. Ryman will be needing you to come with us."

I was confused, but nothing my father did could ever make much sense to me. As for paying Andy hundreds of thousands of dollars... I found myself wanting to have a chat with my father. Still I asked, "Why? If he wanted to see me in particular, this would be the last place he'd search for me."

"He wasn't looking for you," One of the men replied, and I noticed the gun strapped to his arm under his jacket. "I bet he'd be pretty surprised when we bring you back to him."

"What's this about, Louisa? Has something happened to him?" I tried not to sound hopeful. But already something had happened that was obviously terrible for Andy. I couldn't help but wish fortune would at least be in my favour and have my dad hospitalized.

"No. Your father is fine. This is something you'll have to talk out with him. Regarding Mr. Burrie." I was afraid she would say something like that.

Andy you fucking asshole.