At His Throat, a Promise (18 page)

BOOK: At His Throat, a Promise
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“I don"t want to go,” Gabriel said again and again.

“I"m so sorry, Gabriel. I"m so sorry.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Ellis paused. He knew that Gabriel and Harte were intimate together, but he"d never done anything with the other slave, not even with the master"s permission. “I think you should be with Harte. He needs you, I think. And you need him.” Harte represented second chances to Gabriel, and that was something Gabriel would need to look back on when things got bad, which they inevitably would.

“Will you come with us?”

Ellis gave a sidelong glance to the study door. “I don"t think so.

Sir needs someone, too.” William needed Harte, Ellis was sure, but he"d try his best to be good enough.

After Gabriel went to bed—Harte"s—Ellis knocked on the study door.

“Come in.”

The master was on his back on the sofa, an arm thrown over his eyes. He lifted it just long enough to see who had entered.

“Gabriel"s gone to bed, Sir.”

“You should, too. I imagine you"ll want to spend as much time as possible with Gabriel tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir. But first I thought I"d check on you.” 149

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

William laughed without mirth. “Is that what we"ve come to?

You take care of me now? I always knew I was worthless as a master. I just got greedy; I wanted what everyone else had. But no one tells you how hard it is when you do it properly.”

“Maybe because no one but you does it properly, Sir.” William looked at Ellis. “Come here.”

Standing next to the sofa, Ellis placed his hand over William"s.

“What would you do?” William asked.

A hundred things or more ran through Ellis"s mind. Many of them illegal, most of them implausible. But just to have the freedom to actually
do
something,
anything
… but then how horrible would it be to
have
that power—like William did—and
still
not be able to do anything?

“My best,” Ellis said simply. “Like you did.”

“Like I did,” William repeated. His hand weaved into Ellis"s hair, pulling him down for a kiss. Ellis enjoyed the illusory sensation of power as he hovered over William and kissed him to make him forget his failure.

* * *

Things between Harte and the master were strained the next day, but they were both making an effort to make it seem anything but.

Nell made Gabriel"s favourite breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes—though how she knew they were his favourite, no one knew, because they"d never eaten anything like that before.

The entire day was too bright, too cheerful, and the sword overhead dangled without mercy. They all tried to ignore it, but it glinted so malevolently.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

“Can we go swimming, Master?” Harte asked in a careful voice, so different than his usual carefree lilt.

“Of course,” William said, as if surprised to have been asked.

Harte grabbed Gabriel and Ellis both, tugging them behind him. He had to let go at the stairs because it was too dangerous, though it took Ellis to say it.

Ellis stared in horror at the swimming shorts Harte handed him.

They were made from the same white material the shifts were, which would become completely transparent once introduced to water, as they"d discovered when they"d given Gabriel his first bath.

Harte had exactly three pairs. He himself wore an older pair that he"d outgrown. Ellis got the biggest pair, though they couldn"t really be called such as they were tight against his skin. They were short enough to be indecent, but just long enough to cover his cock.

“I can"t wear this,” he protested once he"d slipped the shorts on and tied them. He was uncomfortable with material between his legs like that. The shift was so much more bearable. “I might as well wear nothing.”

Harte came up behind him and cupped his cock, making Ellis groan as the tight cloth became tighter and
much
more obscene.

“As much as I"d love for you to be naked, the niceties must be observed.”

Gabriel"s shorts actually fit him the best, as he was skinny enough for them not to hug every free inch.

“Come on!” Harte cried, racing out of the room.

Ellis and Gabriel shared a smile. Harte was determined to make the day perfect, so they would have to oblige him. Ellis only hoped the shorts loosened a little in the water, or else he was certain 151

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

they"d split. He hadn"t gone swimming yet, and despite the awkward ensemble, he was excited.

William was torn between laughter and lust when he saw the three slaves in matching white shorts. “You three are positively sinful,” he said, leering at them.

Harte jumped into the water to avoid answering, and Gabriel followed more timidly down the steps.

Ellis knelt beside the master"s outdoor chair and touched his knee. “It"s going to be fine, Sir,” he said, hoping he wasn"t overstepping. William was watching Harte wistfully. “You know he can"t hold a grudge to save his life.”

“I"ve never made him so angry with me. Not the entire time I"ve had him.”

“He"s not angry at you, he"s angry at the situation. He just doesn"t really understand that right now.”

“How can I claim to deserve you?” the master said, smiling down at Ellis.

“Quite easily, I should hope.”

“Go on. Your friends need refereeing.”

And sure enough, Harte and Gabriel were engaged in a water fight of epic proportions, but Gabriel was backing Harte into the deep end, and being much taller, Gabriel had the advantage.

Ellis jumped in to save Harte, who laughed gleefully and clung like an eel to Ellis"s back, demanding that he defend Harte"s honour.

Ellis ended up tossing a slippery Harte to Gabriel, who held him gently, signifying his surrender in the battle. Despite Harte"s anger at William, he looked to him for permission when Gabriel went to kiss him. William nodded.

Floating on his back while the other slaves made use of each 152

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

other, Ellis wondered about William. He"d said he wasn"t a good master, but he did everything that Ellis had always wished his own master would do. Despite Ellis"s horror at his punishment, he had to agree it was apt. Perhaps too long, but then, William had said Ellis hadn"t exhibited the same signs of need that Harte had. Ellis would have to be more vocal in his needs or he would just be hurting himself.

Harte"s familiar cry of climax brought a twitch to Ellis"s groin, followed by an echoing one when Gabriel grunted a few moments later. But he didn"t want to be with Gabriel. Gabriel was beautiful, sweet, needy, and most importantly,
leaving
, but Ellis didn"t want to risk William"s disappointment—so much worse than his wrath.

The other slaves flopped onto the cement surrounding the pool and let the sun dry and soothe them. Ellis climbed out of the pool and knelt by William"s chair, resting his head by the edge of it, careful not to get the master wet.

His hair dried quickly because William threaded his fingers through it constantly, and the motion along with the sun lulled him to sleep.

He awoke when William shifted him in order to stand. “It"s time to go,” he murmured, purest regret on his face.

Ellis swallowed the bitter taste of bile and nodded. He woke Harte and Gabriel, the latter not really sleeping but just resting his eyes, and led them to Ellis"s bedroom. They took showers separately and dressed in complete silence.

William was waiting just outside the front door, and when Harte passed him to the car, William took hold of his upper arm. “I have to bring him alone,” he said.

Harte looked at him in enraged disbelief. “No!” he shouted.

“I"m coming!”

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Ellis stepped forward in hopes of calming Harte. “Sir knows what"s best, Harte—”

“You!” Harte screamed, whirling on Ellis, who took a step back in shock. “Where"s your loyalty?”

Frozen, Ellis watched the tableau in front of him, knowing it affected him and yet knowing there was nothing he could do.

Harte"s accusation echoed in his ears, blocking out the other slave"s continued cries against William.

Then Harte threw himself at Gabriel, not so much sobbing as shouting in tears. “Be okay!” he cried, like a demand, like Gabriel would just
have
to be okay because he"d said it.

“I will,” Gabriel said, sounding just as determined. “And listen to me. Whenever it hurts or I"m scared, I"ll think of this. I had this.

Okay? I had this.”

And then he was gone.

154

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

CHAPTER 8
PARLEY

The forest really did seem impenetrable, stretching for an unknown distance beyond the open area around the house. It was warm, though not the kind of warm that warranted being outside all day, but the kind that made you wish you could. Almost warm enough.

That was the atmosphere inside the house, too. Almost warm enough.

Whatever Harte"s punishment was for being so rude to the master, Ellis didn"t know. He hadn"t been forbidden to talk to the other slave, so it wasn"t the same punishment Ellis had suffered through—which was probably a blessing because an ignored Harte was likely a very uncomfortable thing… for everyone.

155

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Even William wasn"t specifically ignoring Harte. It almost seemed more the other way around. Harte was gracious and deferential, but only just. It was obvious he was pushing the limits of politeness. Everything he said seemed suffused with secondary meaning. Every look he gave William bled with disappointment.

For the first time, Ellis actually wanted another slave to be punished.

Harte
needed
it. He was
begging
for it. He was pushing boundaries to force William to push back, only William wouldn"t because he was afraid of hurting Harte. Of letting him down; not knowing that that was exactly what he was doing by not keeping Harte in line.

Ellis finally walked away from the window he"d been staring out for the better part of the morning. He would find no answers there.

After the morning lesson that day, Harte had gone back to bed once William had left for work. That was unlike him, and even more out of character was the fact that he hadn"t even told Ellis what he was doing. He"d just left.

Now Ellis was hovering between giving Harte time and space to himself and going after him as Ellis suspected he wanted.

In the end, he couldn"t bear the solitude any longer. He"d had enough of that during his own punishment.

He slipped out into the hallway, keeping his eyes fixed on Harte"s door so he wouldn"t look at Gabriel"s, and knocked.

There was no answer, so Ellis opened the door. In the month or so he"d lived there, he"d always felt welcome in Harte"s room with the exception of the week it had been locked to him.

“Harte?” he called.

“In here,” came a quiet voice from Harte"s en suite bathroom.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Ellis followed the voice and saw Harte neck-deep in his huge claw-foot tub, bubbles rising high over the water line.

“You in there somewhere?” Ellis quipped, as only a shock of blond was visible beneath the mound of bubbles.

“Everything okay?” Harte asked, his eyes an almost shocking blue against the surrounding white.

“I"d actually thought I would ask you that question.” He knelt beside the tub and scooped up some bubbles on his forefinger, which he gently smeared onto Harte"s nose.

Harte blew them away dejectedly. “I"m fine.”

“I know that"s not true. Who are you going to tell if not me?”

“I"d actually hoped I wouldn"t have to talk about it at all,” Harte said. His voice was light but there was an underlying warning that Ellis blithely ignored.

“I know you"re upset with Sir… ” Ellis trailed his fingers through the bubbles, watching them make way as soon as they touched his skin.

“You don"t understand.”

“Gabriel was my friend, too, Harte.”

“It isn"t even about Gabriel, not really! It"s about Master. He just… he cares about me, I know. I thought that he would listen to me.”

Ellis touched Harte"s knee beneath the water. “What makes you think that he didn"t do everything within his power to help Gabriel?”

“Because Gabriel"s gone! If Master had really wanted it, Gabriel wouldn"t have had to go back.”

Ellis was beginning to see the real problem. “You think Sir can fix anything, don"t you?”

Harte opened his mouth but snapped it shut before saying 157

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

anything. He glared at Ellis, but it was weak.

“Sir isn"t perfect. He"s certainly not infallible. He can"t just change the laws in a few days.”

“But he"s a lawyer! He"s
teaching
us how to do exactly that!

Change laws, change the world. But he wouldn"t do it for Gabriel?

It"s not fair!”

“But don"t you remember how long it takes to change laws?

How difficult a process it is, how time-consuming and onerous? A law like that one, it would take years to go through even if it wasn"t contested, which it would be, every step of the way. It isn"t Sir"s fault that society is content with the way slaves are treated.”

“I thought that if I asked him to do it, he could do anything.

He"d want to. Just because I asked.”

Ellis pushed dampened hair from Harte"s forehead. He always seemed so young when his hair was wet, so small. “I think that"s why he
did
try. And he did, you know that. He was on the phone every day, at work every day trying to find a way.”

“So why wasn"t it enough?”

“Because he"s only one person. You expect too much of him, I think. He"s only human.”

“You don"t know him like I do,” Harte protested. “He"s more than that.”

Ellis didn"t say anything. Harte"s hero-worship for William had taken a serious blow, and only Harte could decide if his feelings were strong enough to withstand that. William"s seemed to be.

BOOK: At His Throat, a Promise
7.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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