At His Throat, a Promise (14 page)

Checking behind him, he saw that Gabriel was sleeping, the covers up to his neck and balled in his fists. Harte knelt beside the bed and kissed Ellis"s cheek in greeting.

“Is he okay?” Harte whispered, pushing the hair from Ellis"s pillow-ceased cheek and tugging on a strand.

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“He remembers you,” Ellis said carefully. If Harte
hadn’t
recognised Gabriel, this entire thing would be easier. Though he had the feeling Gabriel"s conscience wouldn"t allow him to keep quiet.

But Harte nodded sadly. “Those were bad times,” he said, not quite meeting Ellis"s eyes. “Did he tell you… what they did to me?”

“Yes,” Ellis whispered. His heart broke when he thought of how lonely and scared Harte must have been. Fourteen years old and not even a slave. At that point, he might not have even been told that slavery was an option for him. Some parents waited until the last moment; others trained their children from birth. Most future slaves had at least an inkling, but there were some that didn"t know until their bags were packed. “I"m so sorry.”

“Thanks. It was a long time ago, and things are so much better now.”

That was just what Ellis had expected Harte to say. He wondered if Harte had
ever
spoken about the atrocities committed against him. Ellis hoped he had, at least to William.

“He"s afraid that you hate him, that you won"t forgive him.”

“I was never angry. You"d expect a person in my situation to be angry at the world, at his parents, at the guards, at the other slaves. But if I got angry, it seemed to take control of me. It hurt so much more when I was angry. So I just sort of… waited it out. I knew it would get better. Just something to get through, that was it.”

“You"re very brave,” Ellis whispered, taking Harte"s hand. He would have lost himself if he"d been the one repeatedly raped and abused.

“I wouldn"t have even recognised him if he hadn"t had the 114

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guiltiest look on his face. Beaten and punished so badly that he had to be taken away, and yet he sees me and remembers the hurt he did to me
years
ago. I saw the guilt and I was sure he"d been one of them. I didn"t really look, you know. It was easier not to know which ones had… seen me like that.”

“Harte, I… ” But words weren"t good enough. “There"s never been anyone like you, has there?” he said instead, his voice cracking.

“Hope not,” Harte quipped. “Master would drop dead at the mere thought.”

Gabriel stirred and then woke up with a start. He threw the covers off and went to kneel before he remembered where he was.

He couldn"t even see Harte, who was still kneeling.

“You okay?” Ellis asked Gabriel, who sat back on the bed with a sigh.

“Yeah, just… weird.”

“Um, Harte"s here,” Ellis said.

Harte got to his feet and stood awkwardly, giving Gabriel a half-wave.

“Oh. Hi, Harte.”

“Hi, Gabriel. How did you sleep?”

“Okay.”

“Good, good.” Harte shuffled a little bit, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Ellis could practically set his watch by the predictability of Harte"s next move.

“Listen, I know you remember me and what happened and I just want you to know that I don"t hold it against you. It was a long time ago and while I don"t approve and I think you were wrong, I"m not angry at you. I forgive you.”

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Anyone could hear Harte was sincere. He didn"t have it in him to tell a lie, not one as important as what he"d just said.

But instead of smiling in relief, Gabriel buried his face in his hands as he had when he"d first confessed, and cried.
Really
cried.

Like Ellis hadn"t seen anyone do in a long time. As a slave, crying was only allowed during punishment. Any other time and the slave had better be certain it was silent and stainless.

Harte crawled onto the bed and over Ellis to take Gabriel in his arms. He held the boy, even though he was much taller and currently an unwieldy ball of anguish, and spoke in low tones against his ear.

Moving around to Gabriel"s other side, Ellis rubbed the bony back. Together they waited out the tears until it became clear he was crying about much more than forgiveness.

Finally, Harte said, “So it"s good between us, okay? You"re forgiven. Now I have to say something important.” Ellis stilled his hand and Gabriel looked up with swollen eyes, nodding. “I don"t ever want to hear you talk about what you did to me or what other people did. I don"t want you to talk about what it was like in the Facility when we were there together. Please.”

“Of course,” Gabriel whispered. “Never.” Ellis was proud of Harte and yet worried. It was clear that he couldn"t abide even passing comments in regards to the Facility.

His time there had been horrifically traumatic, but he needed to
talk
to someone. How much anger and helplessness was boiling below his smile-until-it-doesn"t-hurt-anymore façade?

“Let"s get some rest, shall we? Master will want to see us up in a few hours, and I think bathing you will take at least one.” He wrinkled his nose prettily and Ellis laughed. Gabriel looked a little embarrassed, but they all knew it wasn"t his fault.

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Gabriel fell back asleep quickly, but Ellis knew Harte stayed awake the entire time.

* * *

The clean up would take even longer.

“Hold still!” Harte shouted as he dragged a hairbrush through Gabriel"s light brown curls. “Don"t you ever brush?”

“Of course I brush,” Gabriel said. He was sitting in the tub with his arms crossed over his chest, an absurd pout on his face. “It"s just really fine and tangles easily.”

“What would happen if we just… ?” Harte made a snipping motion with his fingers, and Gabriel jerked so hard
another
wave of water crashed over the side. Luckily, Ellis was standing by with towels, sopping up the messes.

“You can"t cut it off! Master would be furious.”

“Is he the sort that likes his boys to look like girls?” Harte asked with deprecation evident in his tone.

Gabriel shrugged, but the answer was obvious. He was quite effeminate except for his height.

“I never understood that,” Harte continued, oblivious to Gabriel"s discomfort—but at least the hairbrush gentled. “If they want to fuck someone that looks like a girl, why not fuck a
girl
?

What"s the point of confusing the two?”

“You mean Sir has never had you dress up for him?” Ellis teased. “Never made you wear a skirt or high heeled shoes or anything like that?”

From Harte"s blush, Ellis immediately knew his joke had hit a mark. His stomach gave a little twist at the thought. He didn"t feel 117

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as strongly as Harte about looking feminine. He was pretty sure he preferred men to women, not that he"d had much opportunity with women to begin with. Wearing certain clothing or doing certain things didn"t make him any less of a man. There was no denying his maleness.

“What? What did he have you do?” Ellis was horribly curious and pressing more than he normally would, but his cock was twitching, first at the thought of William telling Harte to wear stockings or something, and then at the image of Harte actually doing it.

“Panties,” Harte mumbled.

Gabriel was pointedly focusing on his own ablutions, and Ellis strongly suspected that Gabriel had experience with the same.

“What colour?”

Harte groaned and splashed at Ellis, who was already drenched and unconcerned. “What colour?” he insisted.

“White.”

Gabriel groaned this time, and Ellis"s mouth went dry. He walked up to Harte and pulled him against him, both their shifts dripping wet and transparent. He let Harte feel his hardness.

“Were they silk?” he whispered, amazed at how turned on he was.

“Lace,” Harte said, shivering a little. Ellis knew it wasn"t from the cold. Despite his protestations, Harte had enjoyed wearing women"s panties.

“Did they hug you just right?” Ellis slid his hand between them to firmly cup Harte"s prick. “Did they cover your ass or go between your cheeks?”

“They covered me, but after I… moved around a lot, they sort of… you know… ran up.”

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That was Ellis"s cue to groan. “I want to see.”

“I don"t know what Master did with them,” Harte said breathlessly.

If it had been Ellis, he"d"ve kept the panties under his pillow, but William probably had more self-control than that.

Ellis gave Harte"s neck some attention, enjoying just being able to hold him.

“Um, water"s getting cold,” Gabriel said.

“Are you about finished?” Harte asked distractedly. He was staring at Ellis"s mouth, and Ellis knew that because he was staring at Harte"s eyes.

“I think I"m done.”

When Gabriel had first gotten undressed, Ellis had been nervous about what his body would look like. The kind of abuse that necessitated being taken away from one"s master usually meant heavy scarring from whips or worse, broken bones, burns, things like that.

But it seemed that Gabriel"s master preferred a more systematic approach. His punishments, according to Gabriel, included isolation, starvation, and deprivation. Touch made Gabriel physically uncomfortable. Loud noises startled him. His stomach filled absurdly quickly. But his skin was flawless and unmarred in any way. It was no wonder some abuses were harder to identify, let alone punish.

“Get out, then,” Harte said. He pulled away from Ellis, who was gratified to see Harte pout a little.

He wanted Harte, but it was difficult to know what Gabriel would be comfortable with. Ellis wouldn"t mind exploring a little with him as well, but he didn"t think Gabriel was anywhere near ready for that, even disregarding his troubled history with Harte.

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Ellis and Harte both helped Gabriel dry off, and he seemed to enjoy the attention, even though he complained that the towels were too rough. But sleeping on a mattress with nothing to cover you for a few years would make any sort of cloth feel like too much.

“What should we do?” Harte asked once they were dressed and sitting on Ellis"s bed, the unofficial meeting place for slaves, apparently. “Master won"t be home for a few hours, and I don"t feel like studying.”

“We could go for a walk,” Ellis suggested. “Even just around the backyard.”

Gabriel looked hopeful, but Harte said, “I don"t know if Master would like that. He never specifically said… ” And to Harte, not being told what to do one way or the other was the same as being told not to do it.

“Oh! Let"s watch TV. Come on, Ell, I won"t even make you watch my stories.”

Ellis hoped with all his heart that both the diminutive and the euphemism
stories
were ironic.

In the end, they did watch Harte"s stories. At least, Harte and Gabriel did. Gabriel was quickly sucked into the drama of the series, the background of which took almost two hours to unravel.

But Harte did it with glee, and Gabriel listened intently, even though Ellis was pretty sure his eagerness was another unnecessary attempt at making Harte forgive him.

Ellis listened to his tapes and thought about what would happen when William came home. He"d be happy to see Gabriel clean and dressed. But he might have news about Gabriel"s master. Ellis hated the thought that Gabriel might have to go back, despite his own vehement denial of the possibility.

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“I"m bored,” Harte said the moment the credits came up on his show.

“Maybe you should study,” Ellis suggested.

“No, then Gabriel won"t have anything to do.” Gabriel protested, “I"m okay, really. I could actually use a nap—”

“A nap?” Harte exclaimed. “It"s the middle of the afternoon.”

“Gabriel"s had a rough few days, Harte. Maybe a nap is a good idea.”

Harte looked chastened. He reached out and squeezed Gabriel"s hand. “I"m sorry. Sometimes I don"t think. Do you… want company or anything? Or something to eat? Or some warm milk or something?”

Gabriel looked a little overwhelmed, so Ellis stepped in.

“Harte, warm milk is a great idea. Could you bring it up to his room in a few minutes?”

Without bothering to answer, Harte took off for the kitchen.

Ellis took Gabriel"s hand and led him to his bedroom. Gabriel"s timidity seemed to be both natural and as a result of fear, so Ellis didn"t pressure him to speak.

“Ellis?”

“Yes?” He turned to Gabriel after pulling the covers down for him to climb beneath.

“Don"t you… I mean, isn"t it hard to know that you have to leave them? Harte and the master?”

Though the question pulled at him, he knew this wasn"t a time for brutal honesty. “I"ll miss them when I"m gone, but I"ll be happy to have a master of my own. Sir and Harte are perfect together. Anyone else would be too much, I think.” The last thing Gabriel needed was to fall for Harte or the master or both—not 121

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when he might have to go back to his own master. Just the thought of that made Ellis"s blood boil, but if anyone could help, it was William. He"d gotten Harte away from a cruel master, after all.

“You"re right. I hope that my master is punished and that I go somewhere else. I know it"s bad to say, but I don"t want to be there anymore.”

“It"s not bad to say that, not to me,” Ellis said softly. He helped Gabriel under the covers, then scooted beneath them himself when Gabriel held them up for him. “You can say anything, I"ll never tell on you.”

“I know. I just… if it got back to him, what I thought… It"s not that I hate the punishments, you know. I can mostly stand them. I sort of… go out of my head, you know?”

Ellis knew. He"d done it during sex with his previous master.

Maybe it wasn"t exactly the same, but he knew what it was like to escape while your body stayed behind.