[Measure of Devotion 01.0 - 03.0] Box Set

by Caethes Faron

  “Don’t worry about it. I weeded the vegetable patch after you left this morning. I’m sure there’s plenty left for you to do, but it will wait until later. You don’t need to be famous artist, horticulture expert, and lover extraordinaire all at once. It makes us mere mortals feel inadequate.” Jason wrapped his arm around Kale’s waist and squeezed him close, smiling as he kissed Kale’s neck.

  “I know. I’ve been slacking. Why do you think I’ve let you top every time for the last few weeks?”

  Jason felt heat rise in his cheeks. After all this time, he should be used to Kale’s teasing. Kale lifted Jason’s hand that wasn’t around his waist to his smiling lips and kissed it before holding it to his heart. He still wasn’t one for flowery words, but he had become much less inhibited in his physical affection.

  “I appreciate all your help, Jason. I know you have your own work to do with the business. Your support means a lot to me.”

  “You’re welcome. You know you’re worth it. Besides, Martin has the business running so smoothly, I’m hardly needed anymore.”

  “Don’t be so modest. I know you could have been busy with more than a dozen charities these last few weeks, but you decided to take care of things here so I wouldn’t have to.”

  “Then you should thank Neissa as well. She’s been a great help.”

  “I intend to. I know how lucky I am.”

  Neissa was the lady they’d hired to cook dinners for them, since neither Jason nor Kale could cook more than the basics. They managed breakfast on their own, and Neissa usually had leftovers or something light arranged for lunch. Once a week, she spent a day cleaning. Other than that, Jason and Kale took care of the house themselves. Living simply let them focus on the important things in life: each other, friends, and causes that were close to their hearts.

  While Kale freshened up for dinner, Jason went back to his office to go over Martin’s letter again. The actual message from Martin was quite short, just a small paragraph stating that he had received the accompanying letter from Mr. Smithson, Jason’s attorney in Perdana. Rumors had reached him of Robert Wadsworth’s declining health. Jason didn’t know what to make of it. A part of him knew he should care about his father’s condition, but he couldn’t muster the will. Down the hall, the bedroom door closed, and Jason hid the letter away before joining Kale in the dining room.

  Throughout dinner, Jason couldn’t keep his mind from wandering up to the letter in his desk. He didn’t want it to affect him.

  “Jason? Jason? Did you even hear what I asked?” Kale stared at him, brows creased with worry.

  “Sorry, what was that?” Jason picked up a roll to try to hide his distraction.

  “Nothing important. What’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t, Jason. Is something going on that I should know about? You don’t need to shoulder everything yourself just because of this show. Tell me.” Kale reached over and placed his hand on Jason’s arm.

  “I’m just thinking about some correspondence from Martin, wondering how I’m going to reply. There’s nothing wrong.” It was true enough, and there was no reason to burden Kale.

  “All right. But if you need help with anything, or just to talk something through, let me know.”

  “Of course.” The rest of the meal passed in the comfortable silence of two people perfectly at home with each other.

  When they were done, they went up to the bedroom. Once they were both undressed, Kale retrieved the new book from his satchel and began to read The Grisly Tale of Hunter Humphreys. It was their nightly ritual. Jason would curl up against Kale’s firm body, and Kale would read, his voice rich, strong, and warm. Jason felt relieved that they had a new book to hold Kale’s attention until he was too tired to keep reading. Jason didn’t think he’d be able to be physical tonight, not when his thoughts kept wandering back to that letter.

  Chapter Two

  Kale ran. The sound of the whip snapping against bare flesh again and again thundered in the air. Torrential rain obscured his vision in the already dark night. Up ahead, he could just make out the outline of the overseer as the man pulled his arm back for yet another strike. The light of the torches and a flash of lightning formed a ghostly silhouette.

  The muscles of Kale’s legs burned as he trudged up the hill, feet slipping on the slick mud. The smell of wet earth nearly masked the torch smoke. A clap of thunder, a crack of the whip, and the shriek of a scream. The thunder nearly drowned out the screams, but they still pierced Kale’s ears.

  He crested the hill and saw his brother’s face twist with agony, his back laid open, rain carrying his blood to pool in the mud below.

  “My baby!” Kale’s mother sobbed a few meters away.

  He ran to throw his body between the whip and his small, twelve-year-old brother, but a man nearly twice his size intercepted him, pushing him back. Kale struggled against the weight, arms burning with the effort. The man stumbled, but it was a short-lived victory as the man’s arm swung and hit Kale square in the jaw, sending him to the ground.

  Kale’s mother was by his side. She slapped him and spat on his face. Her saliva burned his skin. “This is all your fault! You left us!”

  The pain in Kale’s chest was so fierce he wished the overseer would whip him instead. It would hurt less, and Kale was ready to die. His mother’s face morphed into his brother’s. “Why, Kale? Why’d you leave us? Don’t you love us anymore?”

  Once again, the face changed, and Jason’s brown eyes peered down at him. “Kale, wake up. Wake up, Kale.”

  Kale shot up, dislodging Jason’s hands that had been shaking his shoulders. His lungs burned with the oxygen he gulped in as quickly as his body allowed. Shivers overtook him as the air hit the sweat that drenched his body.

  “Shh. It’s all right, Kale. I’m here. It was just a dream. A nightmare.” Jason rubbed soothing circles on Kale’s back. His touch was incongruent with the dream images.

  “I’ll go sleep in the guest room.” Before Kale could swing his legs off the side of the bed, he was flat on his back again, with Jason on top of him. The weight momentarily constricted Kale’s breathing.

  Jason entwined his legs around Kale’s. It would be impossible to break free without a struggle, and there was no fight left in Kale. “No, you’re staying right here. You’re not bothering me, and I won’t let you be alone.”

  The words comforted Kale, and he worked to relax his body, to remind his skin and muscles that the man on top of him loved him, had given him freedom. The man on top of him would not hurt him, wasn’t his slave-master. The pressure was the familiar weight of his lover, nothing more. Shoulder muscles relaxed first, and the rest of Kale’s body followed.

  “What happened?” Jason’s voice was soft and tender.

  “I don’t remember.” Kale avoided Jason’s eyes, knowing he’d see hurt there like there was every time. Kale hated lying, and not just because a part of him ached to confide in Jason. There was nothing Jason could do to fix the problem. He would only feel guilty. It was Kale’s job to protect Jason, and he wouldn’t burden him with the horrors that assaulted him every night.

  “Well, if you ever do remember, or just want to talk, you know I’m here. There’s nothing you could say that would change the way I feel about you. Whatever dark and ugly things haunt you, you can share them. They won’t scare me.” Worry tinged Jason’s voice.

  How could Kale divulge his nightmares to such a sweet man who worried so much over him? Jason’s mind wasn’t capable of imagining the things Kale dreamed about. If Kale shared, worry would turn to panic. Jason would feel guilty until he could fix it, and there was no fixing Kale. Nightmares were the price for his sins.

  “I know, Jason. Let’s just go to sleep. I have a busy day ahead of me.” Kale wondered if Jason would pursue his line of questioning. A moment passed before Kale felt Jason nod and then relax on top of him. A minute later, a snore ruffled his chest hair.

  Thoughts and images rac
ed so fast through Kale’s mind that sleep was an impossibility. The backdrop to all these thoughts was an oppressive guilt binding his soul. Shame washed over him, threatening to drown him. Had he so quickly forgotten the true meaning of oppression? The woman who gave him life was back in Arine, the property of a man. The thought turned his stomach. Whether he was disgusted at the thought of his mother still living as a slave or at himself for so easily leaving her there, he didn’t know. Both.

  In a matter of hours, Kale would attend the opening of his art showcase. People would mill about, looking at his drawings and paintings. They would toast him, the brother and son who had abandoned his family. While Thomas and Mama worked long days, Kale fiddled with his pastels and charcoal, tended a garden that was his to do with as he pleased, and called it work. They suffered while he built a life with a man who adored him.

  That man was still curled around Kale tight enough that any escape attempt would wake him. Instead of fleeing to the spare bedroom, Kale ran his fingers through Jason’s thick brown hair. A feather soft moan escaped Jason’s mouth as he stirred before settling into the touch. It would be the epitome of ungratefulness for Kale to share his nightmares. Jason had freed him and given him a life that was more ideal than anything Kale could ever deserve. How could he even hint that it wasn’t enough? It would be cruel to unburden himself onto his partner who would try so very hard to understand but would fall short through no fault of his own. Jason couldn’t understand. No free man could.

  Moonlight drifted in through a crack in the drapes and illuminated a black and white photograph on Jason’s bedside table. It had been taken by a photographer friend the day they’d bought the house. Kale smiled at the memory, though it paled in comparison to the smiles caught on film that day. Their arms were draped around each other and their faces alight with the possibilities of their new life. Jason snuggled in closer to Kale. His hot breath on Kale’s chest was so familiar that, on the occasions when Kale had been able to escape to the guest bedroom, his sleep was restless without it.

  Kale closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He would need to be up in a few hours, and people were counting on him. He couldn’t let them down, despite how easily he had let down his own family. As drowsiness overtook him, his thoughts drifted with anticipation to the activities of the day. A brief moment of honesty before he drifted off, because it wasn’t his guilt or wretchedness that really bothered him. What he hated most was how damn happy he was. He had no right to it, but he felt it just the same.

  Chapter Three

  Jason elbowed his way through the crowd, careful not to jostle the two champagne flutes he carried. When he reached Kale, he stood back while a reporter from the Calea Gazette snapped a photograph of Kale with one of his pieces. The reporter tried to coax a smile out of Kale, but all he got was an expression that most resembled a grimace. When it was apparent Kale wasn’t going to get any more comfortable in front of the camera, the reporter shook his hand and thanked him for his time.

  “You might want to try not looking like you’re in quite so much pain.” Jason handed Kale the champagne.

  “I just don’t understand what they want a picture of me for or why they want an interview. I drew some pictures and painted some others. It’s not like I have a plan to solve childhood hunger.”

  “No, you don’t, but you may inspire someone who does. This is amazing, Kale. I’ve never seen a crowd like this for an art show. I overheard them turning people away at the door. You’ve really hit a nerve.”

  “They’ve all come to see the ex-slave who can draw. I’m an oddity to them.”

  “You’re an inspiration.”

  Before Kale could reply, another reporter approached with some questions. Jason stayed close, but also took the opportunity to look at some of the pieces. Kale had always been shy about letting Jason see his work. Jason was convinced that the only reason Kale even let his work be displayed publicly was because he felt an obligation to bring in an income. That obligation was solely in his head, but Jason didn’t mind it being there if it pushed Kale to live up to his potential.

  The show was entitled “Forgotten Faces,” and it was a collection of candid portraits of the poor and homeless throughout Calea. As the capital of Naiara, it had a considerable amount of poverty juxtaposed against the wealth that ran the country. Jason admired a painting of a beggar woman on the steps of the opera house. Theatre goers dressed in their finery scurried by. The opera house was adorned with gold leafing on the columns flanking the entrance. Yet somehow, Kale had made the drab colors of the woman the focal point. Kale was exceptional at using contrasting images to make a point. A glance at one of Kale’s pictures revealed more to Jason than an hour of conversation with his lover.

  “They leave you speechless, don’t they?” Jason turned to see Lisa standing next to him.

  “Yeah, they do.” Jason looked at the picture for a moment longer. “Thanks for coming. I know Kale appreciates the support.”

  Lisa shook her head. “I didn’t come for him, Jason. Don’t get me wrong, I support him and would show up anywhere for him, but I came because there was no way I was going to miss this. These pictures were the inspiration for the lecture I’m giving tomorrow. I needed to see them again to remind me why I’m doing it and to calm my nerves.”

  “Wait, how did you get to see them? I wasn’t even allowed to see a lot of these ahead of time.”

  Lisa’s mouth quirked to the side. “Josie showed me. She knew I was interested in the subject matter and thought I should see them all.” Her lips straightened into a firm line. “These images stay with you. I see them at the strangest times. It’s like they’ve become a part of my consciousness. I can’t imagine what it must be like to live with that sort of genius.”

  Jason’s heart swelled with pride, and he glanced at Kale, who still looked supremely uncomfortable with the attention focused on him. “It’s amazing. What’s even more remarkable is that he really doesn’t know how great he is. I’m still waiting for him to figure it out.” Times like this made Jason marvel at his good fortune. There were days when he thought for sure Kale would realize just how extraordinary he was and decide that he didn’t need Jason anymore.

  “Wipe that look off your face. I’ve never seen a man more in love than Kale. Besides, you’re the key to all this. You’d have a revolt on your hands if you two ever left each other.”

  “No, I have very little to do with this.” Jason went back to admiring the picture.

  “That’s not what Kale says. According to him, he couldn’t draw when you were apart. He says you gave him the security to be vulnerable enough to put himself on the canvas.”

  Jason’s head jerked around to Lisa. “Really? When did he say all that?”

  “Oh, just here and there.”

  “Hmm.” Jason let the moment pass. He didn’t know Kale talked about him to other people. “I knew he was becoming more popular, but I really didn’t expect this. I don’t know how Carmichael filled this place so quickly. It’s not because of Kale’s past, is it?” Jason wasn’t ashamed of Kale’s history as a slave, but he knew Kale was eager to make his way on his own merits, not as the subject of morbid curiosity. Jason hated to think that the interest in Kale’s art came from anything but the art itself.

  “Are you kidding? I doubt most people here even know his history, and they certainly wouldn’t be this interested based on the novelty. The gallery didn’t need to do much more than announce the show. People are here from all over Naiara. Everyone’s worried it will sell out.”

  “It’s a four-week show.”

  Lisa laughed. “Not the show, silly, the art. I know Kale’s dense enough to think that there isn’t a demand for his original pieces, but I didn’t expect you to be so obtuse. The only reason he’s not selling more is because he’s not producing more. When word got out that there was going to be a show full of his originals, people clamored to be the first to get their picks.”

  Jason had no idea. He knew Kale wa
s making a name for himself throughout the country—it was an advantage to living in the capital and having a broad network of influential friends—but this frenzy was more than Jason had imagined. The normally hushed gallery was so loud Jason couldn’t hear the string quartet in the corner.

  Lisa rested her hand on Jason’s arm. “I’ve got to go say hello to some people. You and Kale are going to come out with us afterward, right? We all want to celebrate with him somewhere a little more intimate.”

  “Of course. Thanks, Lisa. I’ll see you later.”

  Lisa nodded and made her way to the other side of the room. Jason was eager to be near Kale, who still seemed to be in the midst of an interview. Jason suspected he hated every minute of it. Jason didn’t want to encroach on or curtail the interview, but he wanted Kale to know that he was there should he need him. He positioned himself within Kale’s line of sight, but far enough off to the side that Kale wouldn’t feel like he was hovering.

  As soon as Jason made eye contact with him, Kale sighed and started to smile. He looked back at the reporter, nodded, shook the man’s hand, and advanced toward Jason.

  “Save me, please.”

  Jason chuckled. “Is fame not all it’s cracked up to be?”

  “I don’t know why I even need to be here. The art looks the same whether I’m in the room or not.”

  “People like to walk amongst genius, myself included. You don’t have to ask me twice to hang on your arm. Why don’t you give me a tour? I haven’t gotten to see them all yet. You can pretend we’re back home, and it’s just us.”

  “I think I can manage that.” Kale took Jason’s arm and led him around the exhibit.

  Jason tried to discuss each piece objectively, as if they were at someone else’s show. Kale responded well. He was still uneasy talking about his own work, but at least it was in a context he could manage. Over time, Jason noticed people following them, straining to hear Kale’s commentary. Jason gradually raised his voice, and Kale subconsciously mirrored his volume. When they reached the end, the group following them broke into applause, startling Kale into finally looking around.