These Monstrous Deeds

by T. J. Hamel

  Nothing more.

  He knew that. Of course he knew that. He’s a fucking sex slave to this man.

  But hearing him say it so casually… it hurts.

  It hurts really fucking bad.

  “Oh,” Carter manages to whisper when he realizes sir is waiting for him to respond.

  “I’m sorry this situation happened to you, and I’m sorry that I happened to you, but I am not sorry for anything I’ve done to you. The moment those men kidnapped you, you became a part of this world. You became a pleasure slave. If you weren’t here with me, you’d be somewhere else, and I’d be jealous as fuck, and pissed that I missed out on owning you, but I’d get over it, and I’d move on, and you’d be living a very miserable life with god only knows what monster.” Sir cups Carter’s cheek, pushing against his face in an attempt to lift his head so they’re looking at each other. Carter fights it, his eyes remaining downcast. Sir surprisingly gives up. He sighs. “But you’re not somewhere else, sweetheart. You’re here, and you’re mine, and I’m never going to let you go. Never. You make me very happy. As much as I realize that makes me a monster, I don’t care. I’m never going to care. I won’t change my mind or have a flash of consciousness. This is who I am, this is what I want, you are what I want, and I’m not a man who lets go of the things he feels that way about.”

  Carter takes a minute to process all of that, his soul still aching, his heart heavy, his eyes burning. Thankfully, sir lets Carter take as much time as he needs, not saying a word as Carter runs his fingers along sir’s skin as he thinks. He maps out the contours of the man’s broad chest before tracing the lines of the broken birdcage. Carter touches a fingertip to each and every bird, his heartbeat feeling as frantic as a hummingbird. Go, hurry, fly, fly, fly.

  A tear falls down Carter’s cheek. He flinches when sir lifts a hand to wipe it away. Sir drops the hand before touching his face.

  Carter knows he could have it worse. He truly believes that. Hell, he’s seen it himself. Some of the slaves in the house are treated terribly compared to him. He’s seen enough flashes of interactions to know sir treats him very differently than the rest of his men would. He’s seen enough slaves walking around with ribs showing and skin bruised and bleeding. They’re passed around from man to man to be fucked and tortured at whim. Their eyes are always glazed and empty. Even if sir had been lying when he said those awful things about men in this world maiming and drugging and brutalizing their slaves to the point of them forgetting their own names, their own humanity, Carter at least has the proof of the slaves in the house to go off of.

  Sir is good to him.

  All things considered, sir is very, very good to him.

  Carter is lucky.

  He’s really fucking lucky.

  Carter touches sir’s tattoo again, just now noticing that there’s a small black bird tucked away in the corner of the cage, permanently trapped on sir’s skin despite the door being open just inches away.

  It’s okay, he tells the bird, his fingertip gentle on its beak. Sometimes it’s better to stay anyway.

  “I’m glad you’re who bought me, sir.”

  Sir’s breath hitches, his grip on Carter tightening before relaxing. Then he tugs Carter forward until they’re flush against each other, burying his face in the crook of Carter’s neck. He whispers against the sweaty skin there, pouring out a secret of his own. “I’m very glad, too.”

  “Because I’m Maison’s brother?”

  “No,” sir says without hesitation. He pulls back to rest his forehead against Carter’s, their gazes locking. “Because you’re you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After drying Carter off and tucking him in, it takes the boy less than a minute to pass out cold. Nathan gives himself a few minutes to sit on the bed and just watch the boy sleep. Then he tells himself to stop being a selfish bastard and heads into the bathroom for his dreaded call with Maison. He runs the water like usual, just in case Carter wakes up, then takes a seat on the steps leading to the tub and dials the number that used to be his lifeline and now feels more like a death threat.

  As always, there are 3 rings, then a clipped voice. “Name?”

  “Eagle 2.”

  “Code?”

  “7134.”

  “Hold.”

  The phone connects almost instantly, Maison obviously having been waiting. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing skipping check-ins when you have my baby brother?”

  Nathan closes his eyes. “I knew Benny would call.”

  “Benny isn’t who I’m interested in talking to.”

  “I know…”

  “I didn’t say anything when you skipped the check-in the night you had to punish him, but you can’t keep doing it.”

  Nathan runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Alright, Mais. No more avoiding, I promise.”

  “Good.” There’s a stretch of silence between them, Nathan staring across the bathroom at the door keeping him from Carter. Nathan wishes he could keep the boy locked in the bedroom forever. Safe. Unharmed. Maybe even happy, as far as happiness goes in situations like these.

  “Should we just rip it off like a band-aid?” Maison asks, pulling Nathan back from his thoughts.

  Nathan leans back against the tub, closing his eyes. “Go ahead.”

  “Henley. He comes tomorrow, right?”

  “Yup. Dinner meeting.”

  “Do you feel good about it?”

  “Which part of it?” Nathan asks with a huff. “The part where I make a business deal that may lead to the end of this goddamn operation once and for all, or the part where Todd Henley comes near Carter again?”

  Maison hums softly. “Let’s get business out of the way first.”

  “I’m feeling good about that part. Real good. The guy is a fucking idiot bottom feeder. Gets a kick out of being friends with the important players without being one himself. All of the benefits with none of the pressure.”

  “Perfect. The more important people he hangs out with, the more info he has for us. Treat him like your best fucking friend.”

  Nathan nods. “That’s the plan. I’m rolling out the works for him.”

  There’s a pause, and Nathan knows exactly what Maison is thinking. He can feel the tension as his best friend tries to keep the conversation professional. It takes a few seconds, but then Maison breaks. “He’ll ask to use Carter, you know.”

  “I assume he will, yes.”

  “Are you going to let him?”

  “I don’t want to,” Nathan says quietly.

  Maison makes a small noise. “You said you’d be giving him as a gift now and then, right? And a reward for your men?”

  “Yeah, but I was hoping to avoid those situations as much as possible.”

  “If we get Henley, we’ll get Miller. We need Henley.” What he’s not saying is still loud and clear. They need Henley, which means they need to keep Henley happy. If Henley gets word that Nathan promised to share Carter on special occasions, he’ll see it as a snub that Nathan didn’t offer him as a gift for the night.

  But Nathan doesn’t like it.

  No, more than that. Nathan fucking hates it.

  “I talked to the boss about it.” Nathan raises his eyebrows, having not expected that from Maison. Before he can question him, Maison continues. “I admitted that I’m not able to fully remove myself from this. Henley is too fucking important, you know? He’s the key.”

  “What’d the boss say?” Nathan asks, curious about this man they rarely talk about. The man who controls their lives. The wizard behind the curtain in Oz.

  When Maison answers, his voice is detached. He’s reciting the words, maintaining professionalism. “Carter is the holy grail of this world right now. To withhold him from Henley is to end things before they’ve begun. Offering the boy is the perfect opportunity to show that you’re serious. That you respect Henley enough to share this gift with him. A gift you haven’t shared with anyone else yet. He’ll be a fly caught in yo
ur web the minute you let him touch the bait.”

  Nathan closes his eyes, bile rising in his throat as he pictures Todd Henley with his hands on Carter. He swallows hard once. Then again. His voice is still strained when he forces himself to ask, “Is that an order, then? Or just his suggestion?”

  “It’s – uh-” Maison releases a shaky breath. “It’s an order, Trav.”

  “Don’t.” Nathan pushes off the steps, standing in front of the mirror to stare at his own image. “You can’t keep calling me that. I’m Nathan. If I have to do this shit, I have to do it as Nathan. I make Benny use the name too.”

  There’s a pause, but it’s not as long as Nathan would have expected. “Alright, Nate. I get it. I respect that.”

  “Thank you.” Nathan studies his reflection. It’s harder when he’s in nothing but his underwear. He looks so much like Travis without Nathan’s costume. Nathan touches the tattoos on his torso, tracing the trail of birds before tapping a fingertip on the bird still trapped. The bird that represents himself. Those are Nathan’s tattoos. His story. “I’ll offer him, then.”

  They sit on the phone for a while after that, neither of them speaking.

  So much gets said in the silence.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “We’re having a guest over tonight,” sir says quietly, looking down at Carter where he’s kneeling beneath sir’s desk. His brown eyes are dark. Nearly black. “He’ll be here shortly for a meal and a meeting. You’ll behave for me, right, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What are your rules?”

  Carter nibbles on his bottom lip, trying to recall them. “Always call you sir, always kneel, and never hesitate to obey you. And don’t leave the bed without permission unless I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Good boy.” Sir runs the back of his hand against Carter’s cheek, the knuckles trailing along his cheekbone. “I want you to focus on that third rule. You will obey me tonight, without hesitation, no matter what, or you will be punished. Understood?”

  Not liking the sound of that at all, Carter can’t get himself to speak. He barely even manages a nod. His eyes fall to his hands as he clasps them tightly together in his lap. He hears sir sigh, the sound heavy and frustrated, but Carter keeps his eyes lowered and his mouth shut.

  Another sigh. Softer. Defeated.

  “Would you like to know what your reward will be if you’re a very good boy tonight?”

  Reward. That sounds promising.

  Carter peeks up through his eyelashes. “Yes please, sir.”

  “I’ll give you tomorrow off.”

  This gets Carter to fully look up, meeting sir’s eyes. “W-what?”

  “A day off. No crawling around naked. No cock warming or fucking. No leaving the bedroom even. You won’t have to be a slave tomorrow. Not really, at least. You get a break.” Sir pauses, eyes narrowing. “If you’re good, that is.”

  “All day?” Carter asks, still trying to wrap his mind around it. “Really, sir?”

  “All day. I’ll leave you be. My men will leave you be. Just you and whatever you want to do in our room – within reason, of course.”

  A stab of loneliness twists inside Carter’s chest. He hates himself for it. He hates himself even more for asking, “Will you be in the bedroom with me, sir?”

  Sir gives him a smile that Carter can’t read. It’s almost… sad. “Not if you don’t want me to be. It’s your day.”

  “And if I do?” Carter asks, his voice breaking at the end. His face burns in shame when sir tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “If I want you there, I mean. What happens then, sir?”

  “Then,” sir says softly, his fingers curling beneath Carter’s chin, his thumb resting on his bottom lip. “I’m all yours.”

  Carter shivers. He doesn’t know what it means that he wants sir to be there with him. It’s fucked up, he knows that. What victim doesn’t want a day away from their abuser? But sir is… more than that. It’s twisted and messy and wrong – so very wrong – but all Carter can think about is that day in sir’s office when he wasn’t touched or acknowledged by the man, and the awful loneliness that was gnawing at him by nightfall. He doesn’t want that again.

  It’d be an entire day where Carter can spend his time with sir, a shameful desire of his, without having to dread the pain and humiliation of the man’s torment.

  “You can decide tomorrow,” sir says, pulling Carter from his thoughts. He blinks to find the man has stood up, towering over him now, the end of Carter’s leash in his hand. His face is like stone. When he speaks again, his voice is rough. “Keep your reward in mind tonight. Cling to it. Don’t let it go.”

  Carter swallows hard. “Sir?”

  “And just know that I-” sir stops himself, looking away from Carter. He shakes his head. His jaw ticks. His voice is merely a whisper when he admits, “I’m not going to enjoy tonight.”

  Something sick twists inside Carter’s stomach. The enormity of his reward tomorrow fully hits him then. This man is willing to give him an entire day where he gets to be Carter again. That’s not a flippant decision. That’s fucking huge. Add in the way sir can’t look at him, and sir openly admitting that he’s not going to enjoy what happens tonight, and Carter is worried.

  No, Carter is terrified.

  “Sir-”

  “You have to be good,” sir says, each word precise and urgent. His eyes find Carter’s again. “You have to be, okay?”

  Because sir doesn’t want to have to punish him.

  Because sir already admitted that he’d rather pleasure Carter than hurt him.

  Because sir is already going to hate this night without Carter’s disobedience making things worse.

  “Okay, sir,” Carter promises. “I’ll be good.”

  Sir’s lips part like he might speak, but then he shakes his head and clears his throat. He looks away. Carter studies him carefully, watching as sir’s jaw clenches and relaxes rhythmically. As his nostrils flare. As his shoulders pull back.

  When sir does eventually speak, his entire being is different, from his tone to his posture to the cold look in his eyes as he trains them on Carter. “Come. Let’s greet our guest.”

  They go down a different hall than ever before, Carter’s heart beginning to race as he realizes they’re headed toward a door that has windowpanes with faint sunlight coming through them. It’s the closest thing to freedom since his momentary struggle between getting carried out of the auction house and getting shoved into sir’s car.

  Breathe.

  Keep calm.

  Pay attention.

  Wait for your moment.

  This isn’t your moment, Carter. Not yet. Not now.

  Just breathe.

  “Kneel here, pet.”

  Carter shifts from the crawling position to a kneeling one, his stomach flipping. His hands are shaking hard. He tries to get them to stop, tries to get his body to calm down, but nothing is working as it should. He settles for hiding his hands instead, hoping no one notices them.

  The door opens. Fresh air bursts into the hallway. Carter sucks in a breath, his eyes frantic as he takes in every detail. He had forgotten how bright and colorful the world is outside of this place. The green grass. The bright flowers. The watercolor sky as the sun begins to set.

  Carter blinks, and the view is gone. In its place is a large man, though not as large as sir. He’s still intimidating as he stands before Carter in his tailored suit, his flashy watch catching the artificial light of the hallway when he reaches to shake sir’s hand.

  “Roarke,” the man says with a smile.

  That voice.

  It’s familiar.

  Where has Carter heard that voice?

  “Please, just Nathan,” sir insists. “It’s great to see you again, Todd.”

  The man seems to puff up. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.”

  “Come. I had my chefs prepare a meal for us and my small circle, but I thought we could enjoy some drin
ks beforehand.” Sir smiles, and it makes Carter shiver. It’s a smile he’s never seen before. At least not on sir. It’s a smile that reeks of power and confidence, but also something evil. Something dangerous. “We can speak privately in my office after that, of course.”

  Carter feels a set of eyes fall heavy on him. From the corner of his eye, he sees the man – Todd – turn and focus his gaze the same as sir. Carter feels itchy and raw. He fixes his eyes on his bruised knees and reminds himself of his reward.

  “As beautiful as ever,” Todd says. “Is he still struggling?”

  “Not terribly. Enough to keep things interesting.”

  “Do you intend to break him?”

  Sir hums as if he’s considering his order at a restaurant and not the destruction of a human being. The destruction of Carter. “I rather like him as he is, for now. I never did quite enjoy the house slaves. Far too easy. I like the challenge. I like to watch the fight go out of him. The hope. It never gets old. You’ll see tonight, I’m sure. Though he’s been ordered to be on his best behavior.”

  I like to watch the fight go out of him. The hope. It never gets old.

  The words crash over Carter in waves until he’s drowning.

  “Pet, say hello to Mr. Henley.”

  Henley.

  The man from the auction.

  Carter looks up, eyes wide. This is the man who spoke with sir after sir raped him on stage. That night is a haze now, probably for the best, but he remembers Henley. He remembers the cruelty in his words.

  “Pet,” sir warns, his eyes narrowing on Carter. “I don’t repeat myself.”

  Trying to keep his voice steady, Carter looks Todd directly in the eye and says, “Hello.”

  Todd smiles wide before looking at Nathan. “A fighter indeed. Tonight just got a whole lot more entertaining.”

  “Here.” Carter watches with a held breath as sir casually hands over the end of his leash to Todd. Todd, the man who had called him a slut just minutes after he had been raped. Todd, who had said Carter should have to beg for food. Todd, who had laughed at Carter’s impending life of misery. “I thought you might like to have my little fighter for the whole evening.”