These Monstrous Deeds

by T. J. Hamel

  “What did he do to Carter?”

  Nathan looks at the door separating him from the boy, gripping the phone tight enough to hurt his hand. “Carter is okay. He’s safe.”

  “Nate…”

  “I’m sorry.” Nathan squeezes his eyes shut, trying to breathe. Trying not to fucking breakdown. He never cries. He got this job in the first place partially because of how well he’s able to compartmentalize his emotions. “I can’t, Mais. Not tonight. I – I can’t.”

  “Okay. I trust you.”

  “He’s-” Nathan slaps a hand down on the countertop, gritting his teeth. He hates this. He fucking hates this. “I can’t do this much longer, Mais. I can barely fucking look at him half the time. It makes me sick.”

  There’s a long pause before Maison says, “Good.”

  Nathan huffs. “Good?”

  “Yeah. If this wasn’t hard for you, it’d mean you’re not the man I thought you were, and that would fucking suck because the man I see you as is a man I trust with my brother, even if the choices you’re forced to make fucking suck. But a man who doesn’t feel sick at the end of a day like today? I wouldn’t want that man anywhere near my baby brother. Carter is safest with you, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

  “No.” Nathan hangs his head. “No, I’m going to break him. I can feel it. I can’t save him from this world. He’s so good, Mais. He’s too fucking good to be here. There has to be a better way. I don’t want to ruin him.”

  “It’s going to be okay, Nathan. You’ve got this. You’ve got him. I know you do.”

  Nathan huffs. “How? How do you know?”

  “Because I can hear it,” Maison says with a strange amusement in his voice. “I can hear it when you talk about him.”

  “Hear what?”

  Maison chuckles. “Get some sleep, Nate. Go hold my baby brother for the both of us. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Before Nathan can question Maison further, the asshole has hung up on him, leaving Nathan reeling with cryptic questions thrumming in his mind. He stares at his reflection for a long time as if it holds the answers. When nothing happens beside his self-loathing deepening, he splashes water on his face and heads back into the bedroom to try and force his body to get a few hours of rest.

  Carter is fast asleep, curled up on his side with the moose tucked under his chin. Nathan leans his shoulder against one of the wooden bedposts. He sticks his hands in his pockets, letting himself just appreciate the view of the boy safe in his bed, wearing his shirt, looking every bit as beautiful and innocent as he had in the first picture Nathan ever saw of him. He’s thankful for the dim lighting, knowing if there was any more light in the room he’d have to see the boy’s bruising cheek and puffy lips, and probably that bare shoulder with the bite mark too. He can pretend right now that Carter is okay. He can pretend that Nathan is a man who can save him.

  Just seconds after Nathan has settled down on the mattress, Carter surprises him by asking in a tiny, vulnerable voice, “Was the slave you used tonight better than me, Master?”

  Feeling his heart fucking shatter, Nathan turns onto his side and reaches out, touching Carter’s bare wrist with his fingertips. Carter doesn’t pull away. It feels like such a monumental win. “Of course not. You’re the best I’ve ever had, sweetheart.”

  “Promise?” the boy asks, his voice wobbly.

  “I swear. You’re the only one I want.”

  “Oh.” Carter sniffs. It takes everything in Nathan not to wrap his arms around him and hold him as close as possible. “I’m just a hole, though. And he – he knows more stuff. It’s not like I’m special, not really, and – and I cry a lot. And I’m lucky for you and – and you’re – and they’re all so much better than me. And you’re gentle, and you don’t even make me bleed, and they’d be so good for you… better than me. I – I just – I can’t even – he knew what to get you to drink and – and I just – I want to be good for you, but I’m not cut out for this. I’m weak, and – and I just – I – I’m not good enough for you, and –”

  “Shhh.” Nathan brings his hand from the boy’s wrist to cup his cheek, pressing his thumb against his lips to silence him. His chest is tight. “Sweetheart-”

  Before he can continue, Carter shakes his hand loose and blurts, “Please don’t punish 7, Master! Please. He was just helping me make the drink, and I – I had no fucking idea what I was doing and I didn’t want to get hurt anymore because that’s – that’s all that – that man did was hurt me and I know that it’s okay that he did that because you said it’s okay and I belong to you, but I was just – I was trying to be good for you sir, and 7 – he was just helping me.”

  “Okay. Okay, sweetheart. I won’t hurt him. Calm down now, okay? Calm down for me.” Nathan shifts closer, once again placing his hand on Carter’s cheek. He uses his thumb to soothingly stroke his cheekbone. He decides to test his luck as he realizes that maybe Carter’s sudden change in behavior tonight has to do with more than just Todd. “Can you tell me what those slaves said to you tonight? At the drink cart?”

  Carter locks up, letting Nathan know he’s going to lie before he even speaks. “Nothing, Master.”

  Master.

  “Stop. Fucking stop with that shit.” Nathan sits up in the bed, raking his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Since when do you fucking call me Master?”

  The boy fidgets. Then, softly, “The others use Master.”

  “I don’t want the others,” Nathan says in exasperation. “I want you.”

  “But why? Just put me in the basement with the rest of them. Take 3. He likes you, and he’d be better at all this. He’d make you happy. It’s not like Maison would know the difference. It’s not like it’s any worse for him even if he did know the difference. Hell, making me a communal slave would probably be worse in his mind. And then you'd be happier...”

  “Christ.” Nathan rolls over, pinning Carter down on the mattress. He swallows the boy’s gasp with a searing kiss, one that he lets linger for much longer than usual, until the biting and the tongue fucking softens into something more between them. Something that makes Carter whimper beneath him, the boy’s hands coming up to grip Nathan’s shoulders, pulling him close instead of pushing him away. Nathan is panting by the time he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against Carter’s as he tries to catch his breath. “Fuck. Don’t you see what you do to me, sweetheart? I only want you. You’re the only one to ever make me feel like this. Remember?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boys says breathlessly.

  Nathan deflates in relief at being called sir again. “Good.”

  "Did you... enjoy tonight, sir?"

  "No." Nathan releases a shaky breath that probably gives far too much away. "I fucking hated every second of it."

  Carter is crying when he speaks again. Nathan can hear it in his voice. He hates that he can already recognize the slight shift in tone. "Me too, sir. It - it was awful.”

  “I know. I know, sweetheart.” Nathan rolls to lie on his back and pulls him in close, sighing in relief when Carter relaxes against him. “Get some rest. Please.”

  The boy doesn't speak, but he presses harder against Nathan, his body going slack after only a few minutes.

  “I’m sorry,” Nathan whispers once Carter is asleep in his arms. A single tear falls down his cheek. He can’t remember the last time he cried. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.

  The words echo in Carter’s mind as he lies wide awake most of the night. He hasn’t been able to decide if sir actually said them, or if he had been dreaming. There’s a good chance it was a dream. Carter can’t imagine sir feeling sorry, let alone admitting that he’s sorry. It’s a nice idea, though. Better than nice. It’s pretty much all Carter has left to cling to.

  “How long have you been awake?” sir asks quietly, startling Carter. He turns his head and takes the man in. Sir looks sleepy, his blonde hair mussed and his eyes
heavy. His smile is lazy, but genuine. He makes Carter’s heart race. Carter wishes he could say the reaction is from fear, but it’d be a lie.

  “Not sure.” Carter bites his bottom lip before adding, “A while.”

  He waits to see if sir will make a comment about Carter not addressing him properly.

  Sir doesn’t.

  “Did you sleep well?” sir asks instead.

  Carter looks at sir’s shoulder, unable to see his face any longer. “I slept okay.”

  Sir gently brushes Carter’s hair off his forehead, fingertips ghosting over his skin. He shivers beneath the touch, eyes fluttering closed. Carter doesn’t want to forgive him, he really doesn’t, but it’s so damn hard. Things feel easier when he’s not hating sir. Things feel safer.

  Except, sir let that monster hurt Carter last night. He let him say awful things. He let him strip away Carter’s humanity until he felt empty and meaningless.

  But then there was the way sir had kissed him last night. The way he had promised Carter he was the only person sir ever wanted like this. The way he made Carter feel so fucking special after he had convinced himself he was worthless.

  Add in the possible apology, and Carter doesn’t know what the fuck to think.

  “Are you ready for your day off, sweetheart?”

  Unsure of what he should say considering he told sir last night he didn’t want the reward anymore, Carter just keeps his eyes closed and nods. He thinks it’s probably smart to accept the reward. He doesn’t want sir to never offer him rewards again if he’s upset with Carter for rejecting the kind gesture. Also, sir has historically been much nicer to him inside the bedroom than in the rest of the house. After last night, Carter could really use some of sir’s kindness, even if he has to hate himself for enjoying it.

  Of course, the moment Carter decides to give in and accept his day with sir, the man says, “I’ll leave you alone today, alright?”

  Carter opens his eyes to look at sir. The man is smiling at him, the expression faltering when their gazes lock. He parts his lips and runs his tongue along the bottom one before taking a breath. Carter waits for him to speak, but he doesn’t. Sir just closes his mouth again and shakes his head.

  When sir finally speaks, he avoids looking at Carter. “I’ll bring you your meals. All three today, for how good you were for me. The remote for the TV is on my bedside table, and you’re welcome to read any of the books I have on my shelves, though they’re fairly boring reads.”

  Something akin to heartbreak blooms in Carter’s chest. “You aren’t staying?”

  “No.” Sir sits up, running a hand through his hair. He laughs humorlessly. There’s a sadness and an anger to him this morning, though Carter doesn’t think it’s directed at him, funnily enough. “If you don’t want me in here today, then I’ll stay away. It’s your day. Your reward.”

  Is that what Carter wants? He’s been so fucking lonely, and when sir is kind, he’s not so bad to be around. In fact, Carter almost… likes being with sir when sir is in the mood to treat him well. It’d be nice to have someone to be lazy in bed with as he watches TV or reads a book. Maybe sir would even be open to some cuddling.

  Besides, it doesn’t really accomplish anything to push sir away. Isn’t the man always telling Carter to take every chance he can to get pleasure from this situation he’s in? This is the perfect example.

  Carter’s pulled from his thoughts when he feels sir shift on the bed to stand up. His heart races as he watches the man leave him behind, a sudden loneliness closing in on him. It almost makes it worse that Carter is wearing the man’s t-shirt that smells like him, the soft fabric a taunt, just an echo of the real thing.

  The shower turns on, the bathroom door only partway closed so Carter can hear it. Even the sound of the water is lonely.

  Carter still isn’t sure what he’s doing. He doesn’t know why he decides to get out of the bed. He doesn’t know why he walks to the bathroom. He doesn’t know why he has this aching in his chest that’s begging him to go to sir.

  What he does know is that, when Carter approaches the glass door of the shower that hasn’t fogged yet and sir catches sight of him, sir doesn’t look sad anymore, and Carter doesn’t feel quite so lonely.

  ◆◆◆

  Heart pounding, Nathan slowly opens the shower door, pushing a mass of wet hair off his forehead as he tries to figure out what to say. The boy looks unsure, but not afraid. If this is Carter coming back to him, forgiving him, letting him in, the last thing Nathan wants to do is ruin it.

  He treads carefully. "What's up, sweetheart?"

  Carter blushes beautifully at the pet name, his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. "Can I join you, sir?"

  The weight that had settled itself firmly on Nathan's chest loses a few pounds. "I'd love that."

  Stepping aside, Nathan gestures for the boy to come in. Carter fingers the hem of his shirt anxiously for just a second before grabbing it and pulling the shirt over his head. Nathan enjoys the view, even if the few marks Todd left behind are there taunting him.

  Nathan closes the door behind Carter once the boy has entered the shower, taking a step back to give Carter space if he wants it. Carter chases him, though, stepping forward. His blue eyes are wide as he stares up at Nathan.

  Taking a chance, Nathan reaches out to run his fingers along Carter's arm. The boy shivers before inching closer to him.

  "I thought you were mad at me," Nathan admits, even though he knows he shouldn't.

  "I was." Carter frowns, eyes darting to the shower floor. "I am."

  "But?"

  "But I don't get to be," Carter states matter-of-factly. "You're my master."

  Something in the response doesn't sit well with Nathan. It feels as if Carter is using that as his excuse for being here when really Carter is here because he wants to be. Then again, that could easily be wishful thinking on Nathan's part.

  "You're allowed to be mad at me as long as you still respect me and behave." Nathan puts a finger beneath Carter's chin and lifts his face so their eyes meet. "You can have the day off, sweetheart. You can have it without me. It's allowed."

  This must be the right thing to say because Carter admits in a rush, “What if I don’t want to be alone?”

  Nathan smiles softly, feeling more of that weight lift. "Then I'd be happy to stay and keep you company."

  "Will you… use me, if you stay?" Carter asks quietly, his eyes darting towards Nathan's shoulder.

  "No, I won't. You'll-" Nathan stops the words from tumbling out, knowing they're a bad idea. A terrible fucking idea.

  Then again, Maison said maybe he should act like he's falling for Carter. Make Carter feel safe with him. Perhaps this could be a good step in that direction, if handled properly.

  If handled properly being the operative phrase.

  "You'll have your consent today,” Nathan says carefully. “In this room, until tomorrow morning, you can tell me no.”

  Carter's wide eyes snap to Nathan's face, searching for a sign that he's lying. "R-really?"

  "Really."

  Tears start pooling in the boy's eyes. Nathan drops his hand, releasing Carter's face so he can duck his head if he wants to. Instead, the boy steps forward and wraps his arms tight around Nathan, resting his cheek right over Nathan's pounding heart.

  Nathan runs his fingers down Carter’s spine, resting his chin on the top of his head.

  “What are my rules, sir?” Carter asks against the warm skin of his throat.

  Nathan gently guides Carter’s head back so they can look into each other’s eyes. He gives the boy a warm smile, cupping Carter’s cheek with a hand. The boy nuzzles against his palm. It does crazy things to Nathan’s cock.

  To Nathan’s heart.

  “You don’t have to kneel for me, and I won’t be giving you orders that you need to obey without hesitation. You may roam free inside the suite, but I don’t want you snooping.” Nathan runs his thumb along Carter’s bottom lip, wishing the boy liked
him enough to use his consent for dirty things today. He doesn’t regret giving it to him though. Carter earned a day where he gets to be in charge of his own body.

  “Should I call you sir still?”

  “No. Not if you don’t want to.” Nathan swallows hard, knowing how stupid what he’s about to do is, yet unable to stop himself. “You’re Carter today, and I’m Nathan.”

  “Okay.” Carter smiles. “Thank you, s – Nathan. For, you know, the day off and everything.”

  “You more than earned it.” Nathan can’t help but grin. “I can’t wait to pamper you today, sweetheart. I hated seeing you hurt when you were being such a good boy for me. My sweet boy. I wanted to snatch you away from him and keep you for myself.”

  Carter’s cheeks go red, the skin warm beneath Nathan’s hand. “Is that why you came and… used me? At the drink cart?”

  Not Nathan’s finest moment. His self-control had snapped after watching Todd throw that drink in Carter’s face. He had managed to hold off for a few minutes, but his hands had been itching to get on the boy, to touch him, to comfort him. Nathan was fucking desperate to just get a moment with the boy alone. When he hadn’t come back by the time Nathan found a lull in the conversation, he took the opportunity to excuse himself and go find him.

  He hadn’t meant to fuck Carter, but he had seen him there, so damn beautiful and perfect and good, and hurting despite it all, and he had to make him feel better. It was supposed to be just a kiss and some praise, but once he had the boy in his arms, Nathan was dizzy with need. He couldn’t stop.

  “Yes,” Nathan finally says. He quirks his lips at Carter, his emotions still conflicted on the event. “It killed me to watch someone else touch you.”

  “You could… not do it again.” Carter says the words carefully, lightly, like he’s handling a bomb.

  Nathan’s heart races. He wants that. Oh god, he wants that so badly.

  He had let Todd use Carter. He doesn’t see himself needing to use him again for any other business arrangements. Todd is one of the final pieces, as long as things go as Nathan plans, and the only other man he’ll need to influence can be swayed in other ways. There’s the issue of his promise to allow his men to use Carter for rewards, but he’s the one who decides if something is worth a reward in the first place. Nathan can be a hard ass. He can act like no one is impressive enough to touch his prized possession.