Sedition (27 page)

He looks at me in confusion. “No. Sascha, what’s wrong? Are you in danger? Are those bruises on your face? I got this weird message, and I knew it had to be from you. I thought that rich guy said you could talk to me? Is he hurting you?”

I shake my head. His concern is touching, if misplaced. “We need to talk about Lisa,” I announce, and I tell him in hushed tones what she’s been doing, what she’s threatening me and Cash with.

“My master wants her silenced, and he’s willing to blackmail you to do it.”

The look on my brother’s face kills me. “The Assessment thing?” he asks, going pale.

I nod. “I told him about it. I trusted him.”

“And this is how he repays you?” Abriel says, still looking hurt.

“He cares about me, Abriel,” I remind him. “He wants me safe. He’d do anything for me, even if it means destroying your family.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asks, after a moment. “Did you just ask me here to warn me? To see how much you could hurt me?”

“Abriel, I’ve tried to keep you safe our entire life!” I remind him. “I’m still trying to do it. I convinced Cash to let me talk to you. I need you to vouch for me, sign a statement contradicting Lisa, agree to testify for us if you’re asked. She may be your wife, but you were the one who actually owned me. Say it was a domestic dispute, that you got rid of me because she didn’t like me, that she’s angry at our relationship. Help me make this go away, and I can make sure that the stuff about the Assessment doesn’t come out.”

Abriel shakes his head. “She’ll be furious at me.”

I sigh. “If this comes out, do you think she’ll still want you? Do you think she’ll want to stay married to someone who’s a public example of fraud? And what about Bella? She’ll grow up without her daddy, or worse, she’ll grow up knowing that she never should have existed. You’ll likely be put in prison—do you know the statistics for children who grow up with a parent in prison? How much more likely they are to be Demoted?”

Abriel stares at me like I’m a stranger. “How dare you.”

I flinch. “I’m not trying to threaten you,” I explain. “But my master is. I don’t want that for you, or Bella. Help me, help yourself. It’s for the best, Abriel.”

He considers it for a moment. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

I just wait. It’s true. “Lisa was the one who pushed this issue,” I remind him. “I just want to minimize the damage. I can’t sacrifice myself for you again, Abriel; I can’t go any lower. If the authorities want to make a case out of this, you’re the one with something to lose.”

“What do I tell Lisa?” he asks, looking at me desperately.

“That you want to put the whole mess with me behind you and focus on her and Bella,” I tell him. “That you’re sick of hunting for problems when you should be getting your little girl better prepared. That you regret ever looking for me, or buying me, or seeing me again, and she was right, and it was a waste of time. That’s what she wants, Abriel. She wants me out of her life. Give it to her, and if that doesn’t work, tell her the truth. She wouldn’t expose you, it’s too risky for her. For Bella.”

Abriel just gapes at me. He’s never been capable of cruelty, or the sort of callous planning that Cash and I engage in. But he was right when he said that he had been following me his whole life, and it’s easy for him to do it, now.

I slide over a paper with a statement I’ve drawn up, written from his perspective, counteracting Lisa’s complaints. He reads it without a word, then goes back to the top and reads it again.

“It sounds like I wrote this,” he mutters.

“I used to know you pretty well,” I remind him, trying not to choke up at the memory.

“I won’t ever see you again, will I?” he asks, his voice raw.

We both know it’s true. Just like we both knew that he would be Demoted one day after failing the Assessment. I changed that; I doubt I can fix this. “Maybe someday,” I lie to him, just like I did back then.

We sit in silence a while longer.

“Will this make up for it?” he asks. “For getting you Demoted, for giving your life up for me, for letting Lisa treat you the way I did, for all that? Will this fix things?”

I don’t tell him that he never needed to fix anything. “Yes,” I say, instead. “This would be the best favor you could ever do for me.”

He nods. “I love you, Sascha,” he says, the words coming out anguished. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I didn’t either.” I wait for him to sign the statement. I dread it, knowing it will be the last time I see or hear from him, but I know it needs to be done.

Slowly, he reads it over again, and then he signs it. We sit there a moment longer.

“I guess this is goodbye.”

I nod.

“I’ll see what I can tell Lisa,” he muses. “I guess she’s always known something wasn’t quite right. And if anyone coms me or anything, I’ll vouch for you.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly. I can’t say anything else.

“Bye, Cha-Cha,” he says as he stands. He squeezes my shoulder for just a moment, and then he’s gone.

I sit at the dingy table for a moment after he leaves, willing my body to work again. Finally, I force myself to stand and head out to the car, the chirps of the robo-clerks sounding far too happy as I leave. I drop into the passenger seat, hand the statement to Cash and start to sob.

Chapter 22
Meant It

Sascha seems more shaken by blackmailing his brother than he did by being tortured by Oliver. It’s alarming, because he was extremely shaken by the torture.

He doesn’t speak a word for days. He sleeps in my bed, but he shrugs off my touch. I don’t press the issue, because I can’t blame him for resenting me. I held his brother’s life to the fire; no matter how well-intentioned I was toward Sascha, I know I hurt him.

While he’s ignoring me, I’m stuck dealing with the rest of the threats. My mother leaves me alone, surprisingly, but word spreads through the industry that she’s beginning to take a more active role in enforcement and quality control. For everyone else, this is just a new move in her business; for me and Sascha, this is a threat. A threat we can’t even move on. She makes public statements about the importance of helping the national effort to maintain a quality pool of Demoted people, and the equal importance of every slave owner to take care not to disrupt the system. She even proposes “booster sessions,” similar to vaccinations, that will ensure that the Demoted remain subjugated and compliant. Her plans are a long way from being developed, much less implemented, but she’s still a threat.

Oliver is holding up his end of our bargain quite nicely, facilitating the hiding of our data. I almost think that he’s too happy to go along, but either he was that enamored with Sascha, or he really does want to see my mother fail. Either one is equally likely.

I find Sascha in the bathroom, meticulously caring for the tiny scabs that have startled to appear from his time with Oliver. At the rate he’s going, he’ll be healed before our project is ready.

I come up behind him, placing my hands on his waist and pulling him close. “I’m sorry that I threatened to blackmail your brother without consulting you first.”

He glances at me in the mirror, then back down to the cream he’s applying. “It’s your right,” he replies.

I sigh. He can cry on my shoulder when he cuts ties with Abriel, but he can’t so much as talk to me. “Yes, but I still shouldn’t have done it,” I insist. “And not because I give a shit about him, or rights, or any of that. I care about you, Sascha. I shouldn’t have risked hurting you like that.”

Finally, he turns to look at me. “Are you going to apologize for threatening to lock me in my room, too?”

I sigh. “We were at risk. I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us.”

“You didn’t consult me before your mother made you beat me,” he reminds me. “Besides, we’re at risk every day.”

It’s true, but his blunt dismissal isn’t very kind. He’s trying to bait me, but I won’t fall for it. “Thank you for covering for me,” I tell him. “The lie, about the re-education centers, the whipping, the plan with Abriel…. Sascha, you’re brilliant. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

He shrugs. “I got lucky.”

I don’t want to argue with me, but I do want to do something. I grab him, turn him the rest of the way around, forcing him to face me. I kiss him, deep, demanding his mouth as I crush our lips together. It’s so nice to feel his tongue against mine that I forget for a moment that we were ever in danger. He’s stiff at first, like he has been when we lie together in bed at night, but in just moments, he relaxes against me, holding onto my arms for support as the rest of his body almost collapses.

“No. Not lucky. You were brilliant,” I insist, once I finally let us separate. “Every idea you had, it was genius.”

He shakes his head. “I just did what I had to do.”

I smile at him, amazed at how smart he can be, and yet, so humble. “Do you know how many times I’ve beat her at her game? Never. She taught me everything I know about manipulation, but she’s always been better, smarter, faster on her feet. I’ve never won against her before.”

“Did we beat her?” Sascha asks, guarded.

“For now,” I tell him. “She’s never been much of one to draw things out. She likes immediate consequences, and she likes to prove her point before anyone has the chance to shoot her down. She hasn’t moved on the thing with Lisa, she hasn’t followed up on this investigation… I’m sure it’s going to be okay.”

“And Torenze is still helping us?” Sascha confirms.

“Yes,” I tell him, smiling. “But that’s not what matters. I could never have done any of this without you.”

Sascha considers it, grinning at me for a moment. “Maybe you just needed a better partner,” he says, teasing.

“I found one,” I reply quietly. I can’t seem to take my hands off of him. I’m afraid he’ll disappear.

“Should we celebrate our victory?” Sascha suggests, putting his arms around his neck and looking into my eyes. “I’ve been so angry, at you, at everything. But I miss feeling you touch me. After Torenze… we never really had a chance to come back together. I want to feel you inside of me.”

He leans up as he says the last words, trailing his teeth over my neck, nibbling gently. I take a sharp breath, amazed by what he can do to me with just a little touch, and I feel myself growing hard. We can finally relax together.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask, touching him gently. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ve been ready,” Sascha insists.

It’s not that we’ve been celibate. We haven’t been, but it’s been different than it used to before everything happened. I don’t want to be rough with him, to risk hurting him, and he’s so often not in the mood. He pouts, he looks away, and when I try to do more than kiss him gently or give him a blowjob, he turns pale and shaky. I can’t tell if it’s because of what Oliver did to him, or what I threatened to do to Abriel.

“I’ll be careful,” I promise. I don’t just mean in bed, I mean with all of him. The threat of losing him to my mother for evaluation was terrifying, but the threat of losing him to my own greed is worse.

“I don’t want you to treat me like I’m broken,” he insists. “I’m still a little bruised, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse. I need you.”

He leads me to the bedroom as he speaks, pulling me down onto the bed with him. “You can’t treat me like I’m damaged unless you really believe I am. And if I’m so damaged, how could I stand up to your mother? I want to help you, and I want to feel you fucking me. You can trust me.”

I contemplate it, the idea of trusting him. I value him, I trust his opinion, but I don’t trust him to care for himself. But he had been taking care of himself for so long before I came around. He is more than capable. I strip my shirt off, and my pants as well, and I sit next to Sascha on the bed, my hand coming behind his neck to pull him into a possessive kiss. I half expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. He leans in closer, letting me touch and kiss him until he’s shuddering and melting into my touch. I have missed him so much.

“Not damaged,” I admit, breaking away and trailing a line of kisses and soft bites down his neck. “You’re perfect. Stronger than I ever thought possible.”

Sascha leans into my touch and my words. “Then fuck me,” he whispers, and somehow it doesn’t seem vulgar, or base, it just seems honest. “I want to be yours again.”

I lift him and place him against the pillows, moving him easily and taking his cock into my hand like I own it. I suppose I do.

“You never stopped being mine,” I tell him, leaving no room for argument as my hands work his cock and his ass. “I just didn’t want to be responsible for hurting you anymore.”

“I chose to go along with the plan with Torenze,” he mumbles, in between gasps as I add lube and my tongue to the mix, working his body carefully. “I suggested it, if you recall, and I took the blame when your mother was here. I never blamed you. I need you to stop blaming yourself, because it’s taking time away from us, and I need you with me. I need you to consult me on things. This project isn’t just yours, it’s mine, too, and I get to do things to make it better. If that means letting Torenze beat me, fine. If it means outsmarting your mother, I’m up for it. If it means talking to my brother…. I just need you to work with me.”

“It will never happen again,” I decide, stretching him seductively and letting the words vibrate off his cock. “None of those things. I’ll keep you safe.”

“We both know that might not be true,” Sascha insists, clutching at the covers and attempting to speak rationally, despite the way I’m touching him. “And I don’t care. Let me choose. Support me. And for the love of god, keep fucking me.”

I smile, and I do just that. I prepare him forever, getting him ready, stretching his ass, and working even more lube into him. I know it shouldn’t hurt anymore, but I still want to be careful with him. He’s mine, and I want to make him feel good again. I missed touching him, and if the way he thrusts himself against me is any sign, he misses being touched. I tease him, working his body to relax and open for me, flicking my tongue out and over his cock, biting gently at the insides of his legs. Everything is calm for once, and I want to take my time with him.