Yield

by Ashling, Mickie B.

  Chapter 10

  Pain from multiple sources woke me from a sound sleep. I was sprawled naked on an unfamiliar bed, my morning wood pressing against smooth cotton sheets. Guilt forced me to a sitting position. I groped for the lamp on the nightstand and squinted against the harsh light. My pajamas were folded neatly on a ladder-back chair near the door. Memories of last night assailed me after I noticed the streaks of dried blood on my penis—the only part of my body Rino hadn’t doctored. What must he think of me now?

  My legs felt wobbly when I stood to retrieve my clothes. A wave of dizziness threw me off balance, and I fell to my knees, tipping over ungracefully. I rolled and stared at the ceiling, the threadbare carpet against my flayed back another painful reminder of last night. As I waited for the vertigo to pass, my thoughts naturally drifted back to Sami.

  Our Chicago interlude had opened more than a few doors. Sami had been gentle in the beginning, taking into account my lack of experience. But he didn’t know how many hours I’d logged onto porn sites or the near misses with Grindr whenever I was desperate for human contact. I would have been better off with an anonymous hookup—someone forgettable who wouldn’t steal my soul—but I’d always chickened out in the end, too scared to make the first move.

  Now, three months later, sex intermingled with pain was my drug, and Sami the competent dealer. Self-harm was my ineffectual means of coping with this dangerous game I was playing. Admitting I enjoyed being hurt and humiliated put me in a far more deviant category than fallen priest. Sami might have been the instigator, but I was a willing participant.

  Some days, I felt I was going mad or, even worse, morphing into my father, spinning scenarios to justify my actions. How could I tell Rino I was the one who’d resumed contact after Sami discovered I was a priest and wanted nothing to do with my spiritual crisis? I did my research and found him, climbing the steep hill to his house with dogged determination, hoping he’d overlook my collar and my lies. I’d pushed, cajoled, and tempted until he broke down and fucked me on the carpet in his living room. The stories I’d made up since then were extravagant musings of my fevered imagination. I often had trouble separating fact from fiction, my alter ego emerging with horrifying ease. I’d completely lost touch with the man of God I’d hoped to embrace.

  Sami was the answer to every erotic fantasy I’d revisited since discovering the joys of the flesh. He wasn’t put off by my innocence and relished his role as teacher. According to him, initiating me was a rush only equaled to breaking the enemy. Nights flew by in a blur of orgasms, and I usually left his bed craving more. I was obsessed with a man who rejected and ravaged me at regular intervals.

  As for his sister…poor Esme was honestly worried about her brother and convinced I was the solution to his problems. Little did she know I was a walking time bomb, the last person on earth who might lead him away from the darkness when his past reared its ugly head. By the time Esme realized I wasn’t what she’d expected, it was too late. Sami and I had bonded, and he turned his back on her, shutting out her plea for caution in favor of my escalating needs.

  I returned to the Nob Hill apartment as often as possible, determined to give Sami whatever he asked for while taking my own pleasure. He’d begrudgingly agreed to give me more time. Leaving the priesthood was the only logical choice, but I was terrified. Abandoning my vocation was more than a betrayal of vows meant to last forever. It was an affirmation that my biological family had been right to abandon me. I was worthless on so many levels. Perhaps I’d misjudged Sami’s level of understanding, but when he pressed me to leave the Church or quit our relationship, I’d panicked.

  On the night I was assaulted, we’d had another vicious argument over my dithering. He was running out of patience, insulted by my erratic behavior. One minute, I was slobbering over his cock, and when my conscience reappeared, I’d run back to a god Sami didn’t believe in.

  He suggested a visit to his basement to calm me down. The first time I’d laid eyes on this room, I was frightened. The concrete floor and bare bulbs were horror-flick creepy. Considering the luxurious conditions of the apartment above, this primitive space was out of place and raised more than a few internal alarms. When I asked why he’d left it unfinished, Sami explained he felt right at home in this stark recreation of his bunker.

  His original lair, a word choice I found ominous, had been tucked in the hills overlooking the city of Kabul, invisible to foot soldiers, and able to withstand bombings from enemy and friendly fire. It was also far enough from civilization, so no one could hear the screams when he was forced to employ interrogation methods a breath away from regulation.

  This basement sanctuary had a treadmill, a stationary bike, and an assortment of free weights. It also had a metal desk, a three-drawer filing cabinet, and a computer. Two pieces of furniture—a padded bench and an x-shaped wooden cross—were unfamiliar at the time, but I soon came to appreciate their usefulness. What had scared me initially had turned into my favorite room in the house, the one place we could freely explore our aberrant needs without raising alarms.

  On the night in question, I was uneasy. Sami’s energy was different, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed after our screaming match. I decided offense was my best defense.

  “What exactly do you think we’re going to do tonight?”

  “I’m going to whip the confusion out of you.”

  “Would you like to elaborate?” I asked, looking up at the tall figure looming over me. My fear was slowly replaced by interest as I lost myself in those wolfish eyes.

  “I’d prefer to surprise you,” Sami replied.

  When I pressed for more information, Sami’s gaze strayed to my groin. He leered at my state of arousal. Grabbing me by the neck, he hauled me closer.

  “You’re one damaged son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  “Except I’m not running away from anything,” Sami snarled. “You’re in the wrong fucking business.”

  “Is there any place for someone like me other than an insane asylum?”

  “If you stop fighting your natural urges, you might come to realize most of your problems are self-inflicted. You and I are perfectly matched. Instead of cursing your God, why not thank him for putting us in each other’s path. I’m tired of playing push and pull, Jay. Drop the martyr act and embrace the sinner you were meant to be.”

  Sami exuded testosterone and control, a heady combination at once terrifying and desirable. Still, I hesitated. “I think we should go back upstairs.”

  “Why are you so afraid of the truth?”

  “Growing up, I was warned I’d turn into a hedonist if I wasn’t careful. The Church is the only thing keeping me in check.”

  “You got screwed by life the moment your relatives dumped you off at the orphanage,” Sami acknowledged brutally. “What makes it worse is the loving family who took you in fed you a load of horseshit.”

  “Maybe, but it’s the only sustenance I’ve ever known. What if I have regrets? There’s no turning back once I leave the Jesuits.”

  “There’s only one thing you can count on for sure and that’s death,” Sami pronounced viciously. “I’ve witnessed too many lives cut short, and I’ll bet you those guys would bargain with the devil if given a second chance. Live life on your terms and forget about the moralistic crap they pumped into your head when you were too young to know better. Clearly you like what I have to offer. This ongoing battle with a conscience out of touch with reality is ludicrous. Your God hasn’t provided any solace while I can offer a better alternative.”

  This wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at a possible future together, but as always, the proposal was devoid of emotion.

  “What about…love?” I asked tentatively. “Doesn’t it factor into these types of relationships?”

  “Love?” Sami asked incredulously. “Wars have been fought in the name of love. Does it make the carnage more palatable? No. Will adding hearts and flowers to ou
r sessions soften the edges? I can twine daisies on your restraints if it’ll make you feel better about yourself.”

  This last bit was so insulting I warned him to cease and desist. “Don’t treat me like a mindless idiot. I have two college degrees.”

  “Then stop lying to yourself! You make a mockery of everything with your constant denial. Own your perversions or stay away.”

  “I can’t fucking leave you and I won’t abandon my vocation!”

  He burst out laughing.

  I slapped him, pushed beyond my limits by his disrespect.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “That was a mistake.” He grabbed me by the arms and shook me so violently I got dizzy. “Apologize,” he demanded.

  “You made me do it!” I screamed, horrified by my behavior but unable to get myself under control.

  He backhanded me and my lip split. Then he dragged me to the other side of the room and tied me to a chair.

  I couldn’t move my hands or legs. “What are you doing?” I asked desperately.

  “I need a moment alone, or I might do something I’ll regret.”

  “Don’t leave me here, Sami.”

  “Next time, you’ll think twice before you lose your shit.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  “I promise to make a decision sooner rather than later.”

  “My offer is off the table,” Sami growled. “You’re too unstable to take seriously. When I come back to untie your sorry ass, I want you to get the hell out of my life.”

  His words tore at my heart with a viciousness matched by the look on his face. I realized it was pointless to beg. As an interrogator, Sami wasn’t easily persuaded. It would take an act of Congress to get him to change his mind. Despite our good chemistry, I had become a liability and a waste of precious time.

  Tears poured down my face when he walked out of the room without a backward glance. It was an hour before he returned, and by then, I was a blubbering mess. He was unmoved by my tears and hauled me back upstairs, into the waiting cab without saying a word. In a stupid act of defiance, I had the driver take me to the Embarcadero. I got plastered and hooked up with a couple of sleazeballs who had their way with me behind a dumpster. Afterward, it was on to the emergency room like I’d recounted.

  Rino knocked on the door, jarring me back to the present. I reached for the bedsheet and tugged, covering my genitals.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, seeing me on the floor.

  “I was dizzy when I got up, so I decided to wait it out on the floor.” I sat up gingerly and smiled to reassure him. “Nothing a hot shower won’t cure.”

  “Will you be okay on your own?” Rino asked. “I have to work today.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “About last night—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He got down on his haunches and reached for my hand. “Don’t keep me in the dark, Jay. There’s nothing I haven’t seen or heard before.”

  “You’ve done more than enough.”

  “Talking through a problem is better than keeping it bottled up,” he said kindly. “I’m not going to judge.”

  “I’m a deviant.”

  “Because you’re gay?”

  “My inclinations go beyond that.”

  Rino nodded in understanding. “This isn’t going to be a short discussion, so I suggest we postpone it until I get back.”

  “I thought you had to go home tonight?”

  “We can have dinner first.”

  “Your boyfriend will kill me.”

  “Don’t be silly. Ethan is a good man.”

  “Ask him before you make any promises. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

  “I’ll call you later,” Rino said. “After I speak with Ethan.”

  “Okay.”

  I wanted him gone and would have agreed to anything. Yes, I was being ungrateful, refusing help after it was offered, but I couldn’t last another day. As soon as Rino left for work, I’d go back to Sami’s apartment and do my best to change his mind. If he couldn’t see reason, my next stop would have to be the Golden Gate Bridge. It was convenient and death would be instantaneous.

  Chapter 11

  Sami scowled when he found Jay standing at his front door. “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  He shook his head and attempted to close the door, but Jay had already squeezed through the opening.

  “Please,” Jay begged.

  Once he locked the door, Sami inspected Jay with cool disdain. The priest’s lower lip was swollen and discolored—an unwelcome reminder of their recent argument—and although the gash was crusting over, it still looked out of place on his angelic face. Jay’s summer-blue eyes darted around fearfully.

  “You look like shit.”

  “I’ve been in the hospital,” Jay began.

  “For a split lip?”

  “No. I was assaulted the night you threw me out.”

  Exasperated, Sami crossed his arms and continued to study him. After a minute, he remarked, “I put you in a cab, Jay. You were supposed to go straight home.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You stupid fuck,” Sami berated. “Where did you go?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Isn’t it why you’re here? To make me feel guilty?”

  Jay ducked his head.

  Sami snorted in disgust. “How bad was it?”

  Jay couldn’t meet his eyes.

  Sami lifted Jay’s chin with his forefinger. “Tell me.”

  “I went to a club and one thing led to another….”

  “And you ended up in a dumpster?”

  “More or less.”

  Sami frowned. “What is wrong with you?”

  Jay worried his lower lip, tearing off the scab. A bright bead of blood seeped through and Sami wiped it away with his thumb, smearing red streaks down Jay’s chin. Blood continued to ooze, and Sami bent to lick the wound. The metallic taste flipped some internal switch, and his cock stirred. Reluctantly, he pushed away before his kink took control of the situation.

  “Don’t stop,” Jay begged, pulling him back.

  Sami shrugged him off. “Get away from me.”

  “You said we were a match made in heaven.”

  “More like hell,” Sami clarified. “I don’t care how good we are in the sack. It’s your fucking conscience messing with this relationship. I’m tired of fighting an invisible enemy, one who only exists in your warped brain. You want to be God’s little helper, go ahead. I’m not going to stop you, but don’t expect me to open my arms whenever you want to get plowed. Make up your mind and live with the decision.”

  Jay’s arms encircled Sami’s waist. “You know we’re meant to be together. I wouldn’t have been put in your path if it wasn’t part of God’s plan.”

  Sami drew in a deep breath. “You’re driving me nuts with your religious references.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Your apologies are worthless.”

  “Can we move past the other night? I’ve suffered enough.”

  Sami narrowed his eyes. “Were you raped?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Dammit, Jay! Did you get tested? Are you okay?”

  “I’m battered and bruised but negative for the bad stuff.”

  “For now,” Sami said, resting his chin on Jay’s head. “They’ll have to retest you in a few weeks.”

  “I know.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “I couldn’t go back to the rectory.”

  “Obviously. Are you at a hotel?”

  “I called a friend.”

  “Who?”

  Jay shrugged. “No one you know.”

  “Who is he?”

  “An ex-seminarian I met a while back.”

  “And he let you stay with him?”

  “He had a vacant apartment, and I’ve been invited to use it until his lease is up. Where�
��s Esme?”

  “She’s back with her family.”

  “Sami.” Jay clutched at Sami’s shirt, eyes brimming. “I want you to reconsider your decision.”

  “No can do.”

  “What if I tell you I’ve made up my mind to leave the Church?”

  Sami sighed and stepped away. “I’ve heard this tune before. You’ll do or say anything to get back into my bed.”

  “I’ll kill myself if you don’t take me back.”

  Whatever Sami had felt a moment ago was swept aside in a maelstrom of lies and broken promises. Something snapped deep inside, and rage swirled around him like a blinding sandstorm. The sensible thing would have been to retreat and engage the enemy when the dust settled, but Sami was too wound up to listen to reason.

  With nothing but his voice, he struck with deadly precision. “Maybe you fucking should.”

  He strode off toward the hall closet. Inside was a large metal safe, and he keyed in the combination and withdrew a small semiautomatic handgun. The weapon, one of several in Sami’s arsenal, was called a mouse gun because of its size. He checked the chamber to make sure it was loaded and handed it to Jay, butt first.

  “Take this,” he ordered. “It’s small enough for you to handle and can’t be traced back to me. Stick the muzzle in your mouth and point upward toward your brain. I suggest you do it in a bathtub so cleanup will be easier. Don’t bother leaving a note because I won’t read it. Now, get the fuck out of my sight.”

  Jay’s mouth opened to protest, then closed with an audible snap. “You’re a coldhearted bastard.”