Settled down with a blanket
into the comfortable seat, Miles yawned sleepily and watched his Master through
heavy-lidded eyes. The other man was tireless when it came to matters of public
safety and even though they’d been sound asleep when the call had come, now
Stephen was wide awake and going over scenarios with Frank and Natalie.
Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the point of view, Miles still
didn’t have enough medical experience or knowledge to be any help at this point
in time. That meant that, like Eva, he got to sleep on the ride to
He struggled to stay awake, wanting to at least support Stephen with being a sounding board, but the next he knew, daylight was streaming in the small windows and his shoulder was shaken by a firm, but gentle, grip. Blinking blearily up at his Master, Miles yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“It never fails to amaze me how you can go to sleep anywhere at all,” Stephen commented, sitting beside him with a smile.
Miles smiled sleepily and asked, “We landing?”
“In a few minutes. Put your seatbelt on,” Stephen ordered, doing just that. “You ready for an outbreak of unknown origins?”
More awake, though fully-awake would wait until coffee entered his system, Miles nodded and buckled up as he replied, “Definitely. Symptoms?”
“Migraine to start, then a rash. Hypertension starts at the onset of the migraine and escalates until the patient goes into full cardiac arrest.”
“Nasty. Are we sure it’s a bug?”
“Could be a chemical spill. Natalie’s researching if any chemicals are known to cause those side-effects,” Stephen answered. Taking his hand, he continued, “And how are you feeling? Are you up for this? Not too tired?”
Miles smiled at the subtle concern in what others would hear as a flat question. The bronchitis he’d come down with the month previous had been enough to knock his questionable immune system into a tizzy, lingering still with a dry cough, though he was in no way contagious to anyone, even sick people. That wouldn’t stop Stephen from keeping him from patients, but Miles suspected it was more to keep him safe, than the unknown people getting exposed to anything he might have.
Bringing his Master’s hand up to kiss the back of, Miles then pressed it to his cheek, relishing the contact as he answered, “I’m fine, Master, I promise. I want to do whatever I can to help.”
“That’ll be limited to whatever Eva needs you to do, and being a sounding board, but I appreciate the offer, Miles,” Stephen said, leaning over to lightly kiss his mouth.
It had just started to deepen into something far more pleasurable than a simple ‘hello’ kiss when the pilot announced, “We’re getting ready for our final approach. Please make sure all seatbelts are fastened and items are stowed. Thank you.”
Stephen pulled back with an apologetic look and Miles kept his hand as they waited. The landing went off without a hitch and they got through airport security without any trouble, given their credentials. It was a long walk through the airport to the cars that waited at the rental station and, by then, Miles was starting to regret his blithe attitude towards his health. His chest was tight and uncomfortable, if not actively painful, and his throat felt drier than a desert. Thankfully, he didn’t start coughing until he was in the car, when he could say to Stephen’s accusing look, mostly truthfully, “The cold air, Master. Took a bit to get used to, is all.”
The suspicious look didn’t abate, but Stephen started driving and Miles was able to relax into the comfortable passenger’s seat to rest. It was a fairly short drive from the airport to the hospital where the four patients were in intensive care, but long enough for Miles to get his breath back. It was nice to see the snow and feel the crisp lightness of it, even in the city. It was…cleaner…than back in DC and a welcome change from the slush and dreariness, no doubt about that.
Once inside, Stephen ordered, “Eva, take Miles and find an office for us to use. We’re going to talk to the doctors on the case and get started.”
“Got it,” she replied with a brief smile, taking Miles’ arm and leading him towards the administrator’s office.
Miles suspected that Eva had the layouts of every hospital they might ever visit memorized because she always knew exactly where to go. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if that were the case.
As soon as they were out of sight, she poked him in the side and scolded, “Stop trying to do more than you can do!”
Startled, Miles replied, “I wasn’t! It was cold out!”
“Miles. This is me,” Eva pointed out firmly. “Stephen falls for those puppy-dog eyes of yours, because he’s head over heels in love with you. I, on the other hand, only mildly adore you and know exactly when you’re trying to pull the wool over our eyes.”
Miles had to laugh at the combination of playful and scolding that only Eva could manage. “Yes, my lady, anything you say, my lady!”
“Excuse me, but this is a public hospital,” a disapproving voice interrupted sharply. “Please keep your slave’s tone respectful.”
And just like that, it was like ice water down the back of his shirt. Miles’ jaw snapped shut on the rest of his teasing and his eyes dropped to the floor, stomach clenched tight with a sick feeling. He forgot his position sometimes, with the loving way Stephen cared for him and the equality the team showed him.
Eva took exception to the remark and rounded on the nurse with, “How this slave conducts himself is none of your business. How dare you interrupt a private conversation with such petty-minded nonsense? This is a free hospital! I have a mind to report you to your superior!”
Miles was pretty sure the woman was struck dumb by the flash and fury of Eva’s attack, knowing just how fierce the small dynamo could get when it came to how people treated him. Or any slave, for that matter.
“I-I’m sorry,” the woman stuttered before hurrying away.
Peeking at Eva, Miles found an aggravated frown on her face and soothed, “Don’t let her upset you, Eva, it’s not worth it.”
Eva sighed and looked back at him. “You’re worth it, Miles. I wish you could remember that. There’s not one of us who wouldn’t take on the world to keep you safe and happy.”
Even before he’d been forced into slavery, Miles had never had that kind of declaration from anyone; not even his mother, whom he knew loved him deeply. Throat tight with emotion, Miles managed, “Thanks, Eva.”
Standing on tip-toe, Eva kissed his cheek and said tartly, “Don’t you ever forget how much you’re loved, Miles. Now come on. Let’s see what sort of person this John Franklin is.”
Miles allowed his arm to be taken once more, smiling to himself as they started walking.
* * * *
Stephen cracked his neck and yawned, trying not to fall asleep on his feet. It had been a full two days and three more cases to present since their landing and he was exhausted. One of the first patients had died, bringing the tally to two, and they were no closer to figuring what the hell was going on than when they’d arrived.
“Stephen? I have something for you to eat,” Miles announced softly.
Smiling, Stephen turned to find Miles holding a cafeteria tray in hand and met him halfway. He took the tray and set it on the desk, wanting nothing more than to recharge the best way he knew how. Miles hummed in contentment when Stephen’s arms went around him, leaning on him in a way that had Stephen wishing they could do more than just hold onto each other. It had taken so long for them to get where they were, but the journey had been more than worth it, even as filled with missteps and pain as it had been.
He nuzzled at Miles’ throat and murmured, “How’re you doing?”
Miles kissed Stephen’s ear, replying, “Better, now.”
“Have you gotten any sleep?” Stephen asked, reluctantly pulling free to grab the food tray.
They walked to the sofa that lined the wall as Miles answered, “Eva and I actually left the hospital for the hotel to get a full five hours.”
Stephen chuckled at the dry tone and said, “Good.”
Kneeling up, Miles began to massage Stephen’s shoulders in a strong movement that had him groaning in pleasure in no time. Stephen’s head dropped down and Miles took the unspoken hint to move to his neck, massaging out the tension there. Groaning in relief, Stephen observed, “You are much too good at that.”
Miles chuckled. “Thanks.”
By the time Miles stopped, some timeless spell later, Stephen was more ready for sleeping than ever before and yawning uncontrollably. Gently dislodging the slave, he tugged Miles onto his lap and leaned in for a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding and dancing together. It wasn’t enough to break through his exhaustion, but it certainly lightened his mood even further.
A little breathless, Miles suggested, “You should get a couple of hours of sleep, Stephen. Let the batteries recharge for a while.”
Stephen saw the raised length of Miles’ erection under his pants and gave him a wicked grin. “Just because I’m not in the mood doesn’t mean that you should go without.”
“Stephen you don’t, ohGod,” Miles moaned, arching into the hand that palmed his groin.
Savoring the way his slave leaned back against him, the trust implied in Miles’ closed eyes and the thrust of his hips into his hand, Stephen took his mouth in another deep kiss. His own arousal grew at the soft, needy noises that escaped the slight man in his arms, but he kept it banked, concentrating only on Miles. Making short work of the belt and pants, even one-handed, Stephen gripped the hot erection and pulled it out, stroking it slow and tight. It wasn’t long after that, that Miles cried out against his mouth and came, spilling over Stephen’s hand and sagging against him, panting into the kiss.
Stephen brought the kiss to a slow end, relishing the utterly sated way Miles lay on him, the pleased, sleepy expression on his face. Nuzzling at the slave’s temple, he murmured, “You’re so gorgeous like this, Miles, I love that you’re mine.”
And with words that showed just how far he’d come in the last year, Miles whispered, “So do I, Master.”
Reluctant to give up the peace they’d found, Stephen wiped his hand on the sofa before tucking Miles’ cock back in the briefs and zipping him up. Instead of going back to work though, knowing that Miles was right about needing sleep, Stephen stretched out on the couch and Miles shifted so that he was mostly draped over him, their favored sleeping position.
All too soon, things would demand his attention, but for that moment, Stephen was content just to be.
* * * *
Miles was more than a little surprised that it was a good six hours later before Frank woke them.
“Eva’s looking for you in the Administrator’s office, Miles,” Frank told him.
Yawning and wiping his eyes clear, Miles nodded and straightened his clothes before securing a kiss from Stephen and leaving with a smile on his face. It still surprised him, all the times that Stephen gave him pleasure without seeking any in return. Even knowing how generous his Master was, such an act went beyond that of any he’d known. They both knew that nothing could take away the pain of his memories, but one of these days, Miles would have to find the words to say that everything Stephen did for him, eased the hurt just a little more.
Miles kept his eyes on the floor, not wanting a repeat of the first day they’d arrived, and waited for the elevator to arrive. He’d just gotten in the empty thing and pressed the third floor call button when someone jumped in at the last second, startling him. He didn’t look up, though, instead scooting back a bit to give the newcomer room to push whatever button he needed. To his surprise, the man hit the Emergency Stop button, instead of one for a floor.
“Miles McCabe, I can’t believe it’s you!”
Stiffening at the words, almost recalling the voice that spoke them, Miles didn’t dare look up.
“Miles, it’s okay. It’s Derrick Frankel,” the man continued.
Alarm jolted through him and Miles looked up at the name. The man who’d somehow escaped the same fate as his family. The man who’d brought his father into the world of abolition in the first place. Derrick hadn’t changed much, barring lines on his strong face, a dark mustache and dark hair instead of blond. There’d been no cosmetic surgery and nothing to indicate that he was even on the run, even though Miles knew his father had named names in an effort to save the rest of them from death.
Practically beaming, Derrick exclaimed, “I thought it was you the other day, but I wasn’t sure until this morning. Oh my God, Miles, I can’t believe it!”
Miles jerked back when the other man went to hug him, moving back until he hit the wall.
Sobering, Derrick said, “You have every right not to trust me, Miles, but I want you to listen to me. We never stopped looking for you and your mother. Never! I want you to come with me now. We’ll get you somewhere safe and remove the locator chip so that no one can hurt you ever again. You can be free of all of this.”
Miles’ head swam with the declaration and for a long moment, he didn’t know what to do. Freedom beckoned, but from the hands of a man who’d abandoned them all to a fate almost worse than death. He would be leaving behind a life that he’d somehow been lucky enough to build with Stephen and the friends who’d grown to love and respect him.
“I thought you might have some trouble deciding,” Derrick murmured. “You’ve been brainwashed, Miles. It’s Stockholm Syndrome for sure.”
Without further warning, Derrick’s hand flung out and something stabbed into Miles’ thigh. Almost immediately, waves of exhaustion pulled at him and Miles knew he’d been drugged. He also knew that this was the wrong choice, that there was nothing but pain to be had by going with Derrick. He struggled against the larger man, grabbing the rail in the elevator and holding tight with all his will.
Unfortunately, the drug was swift and strong. In what seemed like no time at all, darkness overcame him and Miles dropped into Derrick’s arms unconscious.
* * * *
It was a triumphant seven hours later that they wrapped up the case. Frank had finally found a common element to all the patients; a mailbox store, where there’d been a shipment to a box between all of the patients’ boxes containing a toxin. The two patients who’d died worked at the store, though one of them did so unofficially as the wife of the silent partner, which was why it had taken so long to figure out the common denominator. Once they’d figured out what was causing the problems, the remedy was easy to get hold of and administer.
Free from his duties now that the patients were well on their way back to good health, Stephen went to find Miles and Eva, whistling cheerfully as he went. He’d seen Eva a couple of times since Frank had woken himself and Miles that morning, but not a bit of his own slave and was feeling the lack. He wanted nothing more than to get Miles alone in their hotel room so he could drive his slave crazy with pleasure.
It was just outside the administrator’s office that he found Eva, as expected, and he greeted, “Press all handled?”
“And then some,” she answered primly. Then she promptly ruined it and grinned as she continued, “Had them eating out of the palm of my hand.”
“No surprise there,” he teased, looking for Miles.
Eva gave him a curious look. “Missing something?”
Surprised, Stephen asked, “Where’s Miles?”
She frowned and answered, “Why would I know?”
“Because he’s been with you all day,” Stephen countered sharply.
Eva shook her head and told him, “No he hasn’t. I haven’t seen Miles all day. Actually, not since he went to bring you food sometime during the night.”
Alarm ran through Stephen, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I haven’t seen Miles since Frank came to get him for you this morning.”
Looking as suddenly worried as Stephen felt, Eva said, “I assumed you had something more important for him to do when he didn’t show up.”
Stephen’s stomach dropped and he pulled strode over to a phone, calling Frank in their temporary office.
“Hello?”
“Frank, is Miles with you?”
“He’s with Eva.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Hang on,” Frank said, before continuing in a muffled voice, “Natalie? Where’s Miles?”
Stephen waited tensely, unable to make out her response.
“Stephen? Natalie thought he was with Eva, too. We’ll meet you at security.”
Hanging up without saying goodbye, Stephen did an about-face and walked straight to the elevator, asking, “What floor is security on?”
Paler than usual, Eva kept stride with him despite the difference in their heights and replied quietly, “First floor.”
It took all Stephen had not to run, but he kept his pace at a fast walk. Whatever had happened, it had happened hours ago and freaking out would only be detrimental. He had to stay calm, or things would just get worse. Frank and Natalie were already talking to the head of security, Gary Meagher, when they got there and it didn’t look like a pleasant conversation.
“And I’m telling you, he wouldn’t run!” Frank snapped angrily. “Miles is devoted to Stephen!”
“I still have to call it in,” Meagher insisted.
Stephen interrupted, “Call it in and get him located. Activate his chip. In the meantime, I want to see the security footage starting at seven this morning. Something happened to my slave and it happened on your watch. I suggest that you find out what happened while your people look for him. Now.”
Meagher swallowed nervously and nodded. “Yes, Sir. Ah, this way.”
They all followed him into the room where the monitors and recording equipment were and settled in around him as Meagher sat in a chair. He turned to the other guard and told him, “Start a trace report on the slave of Dr. Stephen Connor.”
The young man nodded and left the room, looking glad to escape.
Looking at Steven, Meagher asked, “Around seven, you say? What floor?”
“Third,” Stephen answered. “Check the elevator and any areas that might not be noticeable to passersby.”
If the man was irritated at being told how to do his job, he didn’t mention it. It took a good twenty minutes to find the footage of Miles being attacked and drugged in the elevator. When he saw it happen, all Stephen could think was that he’d failed to protect one of the two people who meant the world to him. All the of the trust and faith that Miles had so painfully learned to bestow in him had indubitably been destroyed by one act of a stranger.
Or, maybe not a stranger, Stephen thought, frowning. “Replay the whole thing from when Miles gets in the elevator.”
Meagher did so and Stephen bent forward, looking more closely at his slave’s face this time. There was definite recognition on Miles’ face when he finally looked up at the man. Jaw tightening, Stephen said, “He knows that man. And since I don’t, it was from before I had him. Maybe a former owner, taking back his slave.”
“He was alone and without a permit. Any freeman could have taken him,” Eva pointed out, sighing. “I’ll see where the trace is and get started on fall-out.”
Stephen gave her a brief, tight smile. “Thank you, Eva.”
She nodded and left the room, Natalie practically on top of her, as if afraid to let her out of her sight.
And even though Eva was free, Stephen could understand Natalie’s reaction. If someone were to grab Eva, put a chip in her and forge documents, what was to stop them from boldly declaring Eva was theirs? It wasn’t supposed to happen, not in modern society, but Stephen wasn’t naďve enough to think that it didn’t.
What he couldn’t stand, looking at Miles’ horrified face on the small monitor as the drug apparently kicked in, was not knowing what was going on with the young man. Was he being raped in the guise of Claiming? Beaten? Tortured? Stephen felt sick, thinking of all the possibilities. Miles had grown a lot bolder in bed over the last year or so. Taking initiative and even pushing Stephen down a time or two in order to straddle him, eager for their joining; every so often, going so far as to initiate a Claiming. All of that could be gone now, at the plunge of a needle into Miles’ leg.
Stephen’s fists clenched, the
nails digging into his skin as he thought of the damage he would inflict on
whoever had taken Miles from him. Even if he wasn't harmed, Stephen planned to
rip the kidnapper apart, limb from bloody limb.
* * * *
Miles was too warm when he woke, blankets piled high upon him where he was stretched out in a bed. Groggy and headachy, he struggled to push them off, damp shirt stuck to him uncomfortably. The bed was unfamiliar, as was the room when he finally focused on his surroundings, and he frowned. It didn’t fit the hotel room he remembered and definitely wasn’t the room he shared with Stephen, but he couldn’t think for a long moment where on Earth he was.
And then it hit him…Derrick. Being stuck with a needle full of drugs. Being kidnapped. He moaned in a combination of pain and fear, his headache shifting into a migraine in response to the agitation that made him jump from the bed. Skidding on the cold wooden floor, Miles staggered to the door, but couldn’t open it. He pounded on it with his fist and shouted, “Derrick! Derrick, let me out! Derrick!”
There was no answer and the door was too solid to break down, even when he tried with his should and a semi-running start. All he got for the effort was a bruised shoulder. The drugs were still in his system, making everything fuzzy, but he could think clearly enough to know how much trouble he was in. Even though he’d been kidnapped, if he were to go back, no one would ever believe that he hadn’t gone willingly with someone who’d promised to free him. Not even Stephen.
Crossing his arms over his chest, abruptly freezing, Miles backed up until he was literally against the wall. If he was found this time, it would mean death. Probably after some horrific, week-long torture. His life, the happiness he’d found, it was all ruined.
“Miles? Miles, it’s okay, come on now, look at me.”
Jerked out of the haze of his emotions by Derrick’s voice, Miles launched himself at the other man. His fist connected with the older man’s cheek and the crack was audible, there was such force in the blow. Following it up with his left fist to Derrick’s gut, Miles shouted, “What did you do!? You’ve ruined everything! You bastard! Why did you take me!?”
Each word was accompanied by a punch, even a few knees to the gut, and Miles simply could not stop. All the fury that had been subsumed during his time as a slave, all the fear and uncertainty, and now the loss of his new life, was too much to take. By the time other hands grabbed him and dragged him away from the focus of his rage, Miles was screaming at Derrick, utterly unable to do anything but struggle violently to get free and destroy the other man as surely as he’d been destroyed.
Another needle stabbed into him and he howled in renewed fury. The second drug was just as swift, however, and he sagged into his captives’ arms, crying and struggling weakly to get to Derrick.
Before darkness claimed him again, Miles whispered in despair, “I need him, why did you take him from me?”
* * * *
The next time he woke, Miles found himself restrained and had to chuckle at the irony. The sound was rough and ugly, even to his own ears, and he tested the leather cuffs to find them as strong as any used on him by a previous master.
“You’ve changed.”
Unsurprised by Derrick’s observation, or the fact that he was there, Miles glanced over to where the other man sat stiffly in a chair. He sported several spectacular bruises, as well as a splinted bandage over his left cheek. Offering a dark grin even though he wasn’t all that thrilled with what he’d done, Miles countered, “Did you expect me to be grateful?”
“No. I just didn’t expect you to be violent,” Derrick answered honestly.
Miles snorted. “You kidnapped me from my life. You took me from the man who loves me, friends who love me, as much of a career in medicine as I would ever have had, and all in the guise of freeing me. You took my choice away, Derrick, so how are you any fucking different than the bastards who enslaved me in the first place?”
Sighing, Derrick told him, “That man doesn’t love you, Miles, and those people tolerate you only because you belong to him.”
“I was going to school! I was helping to save lives! What the hell do you know about my life, you bastard?” Miles hissed.
Derrick shook his head and replied, “I know that you were wrongly enslaved and have suffered more than most, thanks to the publicity surrounding your family’s downfall. I can’t imagine…”
“That’s right!” Miles interrupted, harsh. “You can’t, so don’t even try. You don’t know what I went through because you were careless. It’s your fault this happened to me, Derrick. Your fault that I was raped over and over again. Your fault that I was beaten until I couldn’t move. Your fault that I was forced to survive by playing the most degrading games my masters could think up. And it’s your fucking fault that my mother suffered the same fate! What did she ever do to deserve that?”
Looking away, Derrick answered softly, “Don’t you think I’ve cursed my cowardice all these long years, Miles? Don’t you think I want to go back and fix everything? And no matter what you think now, this is the best possible outcome. I can save you, even if I can’t do the same for your mother yet.”
Miles rose up at that, stopped only by his chains, and snarled, “Stay away from her! Don’t you fucking go near her! She has some peace now, so don’t you dare mess that up!”
Derrick got painfully to his feet before saying, “Now that you’ve escaped, there won’t be the opportunity.”
“Good,” Miles snapped.
Shaking his head again, Derrick sighed and said, “We’ve got a lot of deprogramming to do with you, Miles, but don’t worry. You’ll be fine when it’s all over and done with. Try and get some rest.”
Miles’ lips twisted as he replied bitterly, “You don’t have to worry about deprogramming me, Derrick. I’m not going to lose it again or try to run back to my life. The only hope I’ve got now is to get as far away from Stephen and the others as possible. I’ll never be able to be a doctor. I’ll never be able to have a normal life, always looking over my shoulder, but I’ll be free, right? Thanks a lot.”
“I’m sorry you think that way, Miles,” Derrick commented, looking sad.
Miles watched him leave and then sagged back on the pillows, exhausted from the confrontation. In the beginning, just after he’d been enslaved, he’d wasted time thinking about revenge on Derrick. He’d wasted a lot of time, actually, when he wasn’t actively being used by his master. Thoughts about putting the other man through everything that he’d suffered. Thoughts about going further and killing Derrick as slow as humanly possible.
Time had a way of blurring the need for vengeance, though; at least for him. As his life had descended into a pit so deep and dark, so filled with pain and degradation, Miles had needed goodness to keep his will to live going. By that point, he’d been in the camp and his routine had consisted of a literal life-and-death struggle. There’d been no time to waste thinking about anything except helping the others and keeping himself alive. When life got that basic, it put things into perspective and his desire to see Derrick suffer the same fate had died an unlamented death.
No one should go through what he had, not even the man who’d ultimately set his family on the block.
Sighing as the black emotions churned within, Miles’ stomach roiled uneasily as his thoughts turned to Stephen. He wondered what the other man was doing. How he’d reacted to Miles’ disappearance and what he was doing, if anything, to get him back. Had he believed the worst, or was he even now looking for Miles? Or was he looking for Miles because he believed the worst?
Miles’ breath hitched in his chest, his throat tight with unshed tears. Things had been so good between them. He could practically feel his Master’s weight on him, his lips and tongue doing incredible things to his cock while his hands caressed Miles all over. He ached to be held in those strong arms, for the other man to soothe him as he always had through the nightmares. Never again would he wake to find Stephen watching him. The one good thing in his life had been ripped from him and he had to deal with it.
Unable to stop the tears, Miles curled up as much as possible and turned his back to the door.
* * * *
Stephen looked up at the night sky through the hotel window and tried not to think about who had taken Miles. The police had gotten involved in short order, the moment Meagher had sent the man’s photograph over. The investigation into the disappearance of a slave had changed into an all-out manhunt. That had been four days ago and still no sign of either man.
A knock at the door broke through his fog and he sighed, setting the almost-empty glass of whiskey on the table as he walked by. Peering out the peephole, Stephen grimaced at the detective who stood on the other side, but opened the door. Stepping back to let him in, Stephen greeted, “More questions, Detective?”
“Always,” the man answered, lips almost twitching into a grin.
In his late-fifties, Detective Reynold Archambault sounded a lot more impressive by name, than he looked; steel-gray hair, sunken, dark eyes, and a perpetual smell of something musty hung about him. While he wasn’t much to look at, Stephen had already had a few glimpses into a mind that was equally as brilliant as his own, if in a different field of expertise. Whatever brains the man hadn’t been born with, had been honed by thirty years on the police force and were sharp indeed.
Stephen sighed faintly and motioned the other man to have a seat at the small hotel table. “What can I answer for you now, Detective?”
Sitting, Archambault told him, “No actual questions this time, just some bad news.”
Steeling himself by downing the rest of the whiskey, Stephen coughed a few times and then prompted, “What’s the bad news?”
“We traced Miles’ chip down to
an old house in
“I don’t care about that,” Stephen said coldly. “What happened?”
Lips pursed, Archambault replied, “We found his chip, but no Miles. It had been surgically removed and left out in plain sight to be found. Along with his Chain.”
Stephen watched numbly as the
Detective set the Chain down on the table between them. The black zirconium
glittered dully in the hotel room light, the clasp broken, and one of the links
warped, as though pliers had been used to remove it. Probably had been, Stephen
thought. It wasn’t welded, but that clasp was a bitch to get in place and
wouldn’t go anywhere without some serious effort.
A serious effort that meant Miles would have to have been a willing participant. A locator chip surgically removed. Everything pointed to Miles going willingly, just like everyone else had been saying. That the scene in the elevator had been staged. Stephen had refused to believe it, knowing in his gut just how much Miles cared for him, how much he was loved.
Love versus freedom. Not a difficult choice, Stephen thought, slowly picking up the Chain.
If it had been him, then of course he would have chosen freedom, but that was how he was built. The military and being a doctor had precluded him giving up any autonomy in any fashion to anyone. Miles was different…softer…but no less wanting of his freedom, Stephen finished silently to himself.
Heart aching at the thought that Miles would abandon everything they had together, Stephen’s fingers closed around the Chain. The cool metal warmed quickly to his touch, imprinting upon his flesh, digging in.
“I know this is a shock, Dr. Connors, but you have to face the fact that he’s gone,” Archambault continued at last. “He’s in the underground now and I seriously doubt that we’ll find him.”
Meeting the dark gaze, Stephen said, “You’re closing the case.”
Archambault
nodded. “There’s nothing else to go on. We’ve got pictures out on all the
wires, but they could be in
Stephen walked the detective to the door and closed it behind him, still holding the Chain. Looking down at it, he wrapped it twice around his wrist and then used a paperclip to hold it in place. He didn’t want to believe this was really happening, but the evidence was irrefutable. The man who had accidentally led authorities to the Freedom for Everyone cell and then escaped the mayhem that had followed, had finally put things right for Miles. The young man was free now, with a real life in front of him.
This time, Stephen filled the glass to the top when he poured out more whiskey.
* * * *
Miles drew the line at plastic
surgery. He would lighten his hair and wear some kind of colored contacts, as
well as buy a bronzer for a darker skin tone, but that was it. Nothing permanent. Derrick’s friends gave him a lot of
money…blood money, his mind provided…and then
dropped him off in the middle of
Looking around the busy parking lot at Union Station, Miles felt like there was a huge bull’s-eye painted on his chest. At any second, someone would recognize him and he would be dragged into the nearest police station and thrown into a cell until the proper authorities could take him. Doing his best to seem as unnoticeable as possible, he went inside and looked for some bus schedules and tourist information. The lack of a suitcase was the most obvious problem, but Miles ignored the crawling sensation between his should blades and picked up the information he needed.
Taking a bus to a less than stellar motel, one that didn’t require ID, Miles tried not to make eye contact with the disinterested man behind the counter as he took a room overnight. He had to think about it for a while before deciding that it was better to use the names on the list the abolitionists had given him to get his new identity while looking as he did, rather than once he’d changed everything. Someone might recognize him, but it was better than having someone be able to give a description of what he was going to look like later to the authorities.
The first couple of days, Miles couldn’t force himself to leave his room, except to get junk food and soda from old vending machines. He simultaneously ached to go outside and got the shakes whenever his hand actually touched the doorknob. It wasn’t until he was watching television and his picture came on that he forced himself to act. Getting caught wouldn’t bring him back to Stephen, after all; it would only bring pain and death and humiliation.
After that realization, he spent the next couple of days doing his best not to get noticed while traveling from place to place to get the necessary documents. Every time he saw a slave, he was jolted, but every time a master or mistress gave a command to their slave in that tone of voice, it was a fight not to drop to his knees. It was at those times that he missed Stephen most. Not that he couldn’t make his own decisions, it just wasn’t second nature any more. Which was probably part of the reason that he had so much trouble picking someone to forge his IDs; it felt like he couldn’t trust his own decisions.
When he finally had his Driver’s License, birth certificate, social security card, and passport under the name of Stephen Woods, Miles changed his appearance. With new clothes, falsely bronzed skin, and blondish hair, he checked into a much better hotel and ordered contacts, deciding that a pale blue would remind him of Stephen, even more using his Master’s first name as his own.
Once the transformation was complete, he could barely recognize himself in the mirror. He certainly didn’t think that anyone else would recognize him, not unless specifically looking.
Which they
wouldn’t be, not in
He bought two tickets in cash;
an Amtrak and a Greyhound. The Greyhound brought him to
It wasn’t all that difficult to get work. Once he got an apartment outside the city in a small town, Miles applied at the library with the fake social security number and new name he’d acquired and life started all over again. The local people were friendly and kind, but minded their own business, for the most part. A couple of mothers try to set him up on blind dates with their daughters, but that was it.
It was a quiet life and Miles did his best to keep to himself. He was friendly, but didn’t make overtures of actual friendship to anyone. The women at the library were kind and gave him free reign over the reference and medical section. The first couple of months were the hardest. He kept expecting someone to recognize him and turn him in, or for any one of the mistakes he had to have made on his escape to catch up with him. It didn’t happen, though, and eventually he relaxed.
“Stephen, honey, are you all right?”
Looking up at the call of his new name, Miles smiled at Lucy and answered, “I’m fine, thanks. Just a little distracted today.”
The motherly woman clucked at him as she said, “I can tell. I had to call your name three times before you answered.”
A little alarmed at the way he hadn’t responded, Miles apologized, “I’m sorry, Lucy, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“You want to talk about it?” she offered, brown eyes warm.
Wishing he could, Miles shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
“Well, all right, but the offer’s there,” Lucy told him. “And in the meantime, do you have the budget ready to go?”
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, caught up in the small but necessary tasks of keeping the library running. By the end of the shift, he was more than ready to go home. As nice as his coworkers were, their gentle inquiries were hard to deflect.
Maybe it’s time to make up a
history and let someone in, Miles thought as he left the building. It
wouldn’t be hard to tell enough of the truth that I don’t get caught up in a
lie down the line. They’re mostly abolitionists around here, anyhow.
And it would put off the natural curiosity of the women he worked with. That decided, he stopped at the local market to get something for food and headed home.
* * * *
Natalie sighed in pleasure as Eva massaged her shoulders. There was something about the woman’s hands that were pure magic. It was better when they were in bed, Eva straddling her backside and slowly loosening the tension from her body over a languid period of time. Gentle kisses touched along her spine and Natalie shivered in arousal. Almost two years later and the smaller woman still controlled almost all of what went on in the bedroom, but Natalie wasn’t complaining in the least.
“Natalie?” Eva murmured against her ear.
Sighing again, Natalie answered, “Whatever you want.”
A warm chuckle echoed through the air and Eva said, “Thank you, but this was actually a question unrelated to us getting sweaty.”
“It’s Stephen,” Eva sighed, snuggling closer. “I’m so worried about him.”
Natalie’s sigh this time had nothing to do with pleasure. Holding the smaller woman and kissing the top of her head, she could admit, “So am I.”
“He missed seeing Jack this weekend,” Eva said.
Startled, Natalie pulled back to look into her lover’s eyes as she demanded, “How do you know that?”
“Lisa called me, believe it or not,” Eva told her. “She thought that maybe a case had come up and Stephen was just too busy to call. When she told me that he hadn’t shown up, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather.”
Natalie groaned and flopped back on the pillow. “What are we going to do with him? It’s been three months and Miles isn’t coming back. How can we make Stephen see that when he doesn’t want to?”
“I’ve been thinking about that.”
Hearing the hesitation in Eva’s voice, Natalie rolled onto her side and asked cautiously, “And what have you come up with?”
“What if Miles wants to come back, but is afraid?”
Natalie blinked in surprise. That had never once occurred to her, not after finding out who was in the elevator with Miles. “Eva, honey, I know that you want to think that he wants to come back, but…”
“No, Nat, listen to me!” Eva exclaimed, sitting upright.
The almost angry tone worried her, so Natalie sat up as well. Serious, she acquiesced, “I’m listening, Eva, I promise.”
Eva sighed and took her hand. “I’m sorry, baby, I just want you to really hear me on this one.”
“I will, I promise,” Natalie replied.
Squeezing her hand, Eva said, “Suppose you’re Miles. You’ve had three years of the most brutal experience a person can have and still stay sane. Or, maybe not completely sane, but not completely over the edge. Then you have a single year of the complete opposite. Before that, no experience whatsoever with a real relationship, at least from what Miles let slip now and again.”
Natalie nodded to show she was listening.
“Okay,” Eva continued. “Now suppose that an abolitionist drugs and kidnaps you. You wake up knowing in your gut that there is absolutely no way that anyone will believe you, not even the Master you adore, because of who took you. If it had been a regular kidnapping, okay then, maybe people wouldn’t think that you went willingly. But not a known abolitionist fugitive.”
It made sense, so Natalie nodded again.
“So there’s Miles, confused, helpless, and fearing for his life. Fearing that not only will no one believe him if he comes back, but fearing that he’ll be taken from Stephen, tortured, raped, and ultimately killed in retaliation for his supposed escape. Do you take the out that the abolitionist offers you, or do you face the worst the world has to offer with only death as your final release from the horror?”
Put like that, Natalie could only answer, “I would take the out.”
Eva nodded emphatically. “Exactly!”
“But Eva, that still doesn’t get us any closer to getting him back,” Natalie pointed out gently.
Waving it off impatiently, Eva told her, “I know that, but I have a plan.”
“Of course you do,” Natalie replied, smiling.
Eva made a face at her, but only said, “We put ads in the newspaper! We tell Miles that it’s all right for him to come home! I finally managed to talk Mike Welsh, the head of the local Social Services’ Slave Welfare department today before Lisa called. He said that if Miles came in voluntarily, he would make sure there were no repercussions until the whole thing had been thoroughly investigated. Off the record, he said that any information Miles gave about Frankel would pretty much get him out of the hot-seat and maybe even go a long ways towards reversing the convict status! Now, I know that Miles would never betray anyone into slavery, but even if he has no information, there would be no move to take him from Stephen.”
Her mind reeled at all the new information, but the first thing that managed to get out was a hurt, “And you’re just telling me all of this now?”
Eva’s jaw dropped, her expressive face at once flooded with guilt and apology as she exclaimed, “Oh, baby, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to exclude you! It just happened all at once and I wanted you relaxed before I dropped the bomb.”
But this brought up something that had been festering for a while and Natalie shook her head as she got out of bed and grabbed her robe. Facing Eva, she said, “When you horde information during an investigation it gets people killed. When you horde information in our private life, it feels like a knife, Eva. It reminds me that you don’t trust me, not really.”
“Nat, I didn’t mean…”
“No!” Natalie interrupted, hugging herself. “This is far from the first time, but I overlooked it before because I know what a hard time you have trusting people. But this…Eva, how could you? I love Miles and Stephen just as much as you do and this is something that you’ve clearly been working on for a long time now. I just…I need some air.”
It hurt too much to look at her lover, so she turned and left the bedroom, ignoring Eva’s call of her name. She went to the bathroom and grabbed the clothes that she’d worn that day out of the hamper, putting them back on and running a brush through her hair. Dressed, she left the bathroom and walked to the living room to find Eva waiting there. Natalie met the dark gaze and then said, “I’ll be back, I just need to clear my head.”
“Please, Natalie, don’t go,” Eva pleaded. “Let’s talk about it.”
Natalie shook her head and answered, “I’m too upset right now. I need to get out and calm down, but don’t worry. We will talk about it when I get home.”
That seemed to go right through Eva, and she snapped, “If you leave, I won’t be here when you get back!”
Shocked by the anger flying out at her, Natalie replied quietly, “You should do what you think is best, Eva, but I can’t talk to you when we’re both this upset. It’s a bad idea.”
“Of course, Mistress, whatever you say, Mistress!” Eva hissed before storming away, back to the bedroom.
Feeling sucker-punched at the very real hatred in the tone, Natalie couldn’t move at first. Stomach tight with nausea, she grabbed her purse and staggered out of the apartment. It was outside that she came to her senses and pulled out her phone to call Max. No matter how far they’d come, clearly Eva’s time as a slave was coming out to bite them on the ass.
* * * *
Stephen frowned when he got a good look at Natalie, first thing Monday morning. “What the hell happened to you? Did you go on a bender?”
Giving him a wry twist of the lips, Natalie answered, “Something like that. Eva had a minor flashback Friday night and we spent the rest of the weekend with Max.”
“Is everything all right?” Stephen asked cautiously. Now that he was without Miles, he didn’t like to be reminded of other people’s happiness, but he didn’t want to see anything happen to Eva and Natalie.
Natalie took a sip of her coffee as she plopped down in the seat before Stephen’s desk. “We will be, but it was a close thing. I’m only here to tell you something, and then I’m heading back. We’re going to be off for a few days to take care of this before it gets worse or festers more than it already has.”
“Of course,” Stephen agreed. “What is it?”
“Eva brought something to my attention Friday night, before the flashback.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. That Miles might want to come home but is afraid to.”
The flat statement sent a sliver of pain through him.
Natalie offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Stephen, but I’m far too exhausted to put this diplomatically. Eva thinks that Miles wants to come back, but is afraid to do so, afraid of reprisal. She also thinks that he truly was kidnapped and didn’t escape the way we’ve been assuming all along.”
It was everything that he’d been aching to believe all along and Stephen snapped harshly, “He could’ve come back at any time, Natalie, and he hasn’t.”
“No, Stephen, he couldn’t,” she countered. “Not without fearing that he’d be taken from you for a fate even worse than what he suffered before, let alone how you would react. Think about it. Really think about it, Stephen.”
Stephen’s hands gripped his chair as he thought over her words. He couldn’t not think about them. The idea that Miles wanted to come back but felt in fear of his life had occurred to him so many times over the last few months that he couldn’t count. “Don’t you think I already have?”
“You have?” Natalie repeated, clearly startled.
Standing, unable to stay still another moment, Stephen told her, “Of course I have! But there’s nothing I can do about it! Don’t you think I would have already, if I could have? Miles was already a convict status slave, Natalie, so if he came back, he would be killed or worse, just as he fears! I would rather he be somewhere else, anywhere else, than have that happen!”
Natalie walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she said, “Not necessarily. Eva spoke with the head of the Social Services’ Slave Welfare department and he’s guaranteed Miles’ safety and your continued ownership if he comes back.”
Shocked at the pronouncement, Stephen could only stare at her, unable to believe it. “But, how? He doesn’t have that kind of power.”
“I don’t know how, but I do know that you can call him to get as much information as you need to get started. Here’s his number. Eva suggested putting ads in newspapers throughout the country, to start.”
Stephen took the slip of paper from her with disbelief.
She kissed his cheek and said, “Time to stop hiding, Stephen. Get your boy back, okay? We miss both of you.”
He watched her leave and had to shake himself out of the stupor to get himself back to his desk to call the number on the paper.
* * * *
Mike Welsh was a sturdy looking man in his early forties with graying hair and dark eyes that seemed far too knowing and spoke of horrors best forgotten. Stephen instinctively trusted him the moment they shook hands. Sitting in the chair in front of the simple desk, Stephen waited for the other man to make the first move.
“I know you probably find this hard to believe, but all of this is true,” Mike said first. “I have a written guarantee of clemency for your slave should he return within the next sixty days. No reprisal shall be enacted against him by any authority, save you. And I would hope, given Eva’s passionate champion of you, that there won’t be any from you, either.”
Stephen shook his head. “No, no there wouldn’t be.”
Smiling, Mike said, “That’s good to hear, Dr. Connors.”
“How did you arrange this?” Stephen demanded, unwilling to believe.
Mike half-smiled and replied, “I’ve made a lot of contacts over the years, doctor, and in this case, the timing happened to be right. Now, if Miles were to give any information regarding the whereabouts of the man who took him, that would go a long way to clearing his convict status.”
Stunned, Stephen clarified, “You mean, he could be free again?”
With a nod, Mike explained, “If anything he says leads to the capture of Frankel, or his people, then I would say it’s a guarantee. Regardless of what he does or doesn’t know, however, he will be free from persecution and prosecution.”
“I still need to know how you did this.”
“Suffice to say that someone in the White House is sympathetic to slaves who are ultimately innocent of their status,” Mike told him.
It wasn’t enough of an explanation, but it would have to do, Stephen could tell. Nodding, he asked, “Why sixty days?”
“There has to be a time limit,” Mike replied, apologetic. “It was the one point the others wouldn’t budge on.”
Stephen still couldn’t get over it and the suspicion was sufficient enough for him to lean forward and state quietly, “If this is a trap and anything bad happens to Miles because of it, I’m coming after you.”
Mike swallowed at the promise, but nodded his acceptance.
* * * *
Four months after settling down in his new home town, Miles was comfortably ensconced in his life. He had a routine, which was important. Monday through Saturday, he worked at the library in varying shifts. The times he wasn’t at the small building, Miles spent online keeping an eye on his friends. They continued to do their jobs without him, as he’d expected, but the few pictures snapped of Stephen showed how haggard the man looked. He’d lost weight and there were lines on his handsome face that made him look severe; he certainly didn’t smile in any of the pictures.
When he wasn’t online, he was keeping his mind occupied with his studies. He was still officially a year from getting his degree and even though he would now never be a doctor, Miles felt compelled to finish. He bought the necessary books and immersed himself in them. His pace was nothing short of driven, but it would still take another six months or so to accomplish his goals. After that, he wasn’t sure what there would be to occupy his mind, but there were a lot more sciences he could delve into. Maybe he would look into astronomy and see the macrocosm, instead of the microcosm, for a change.
Yawning as he picked up the paper on his porch, Miles rubbed his eyes and then headed back inside for breakfast. One bowl of cereal and a glass of juice later, Miles was contentedly pouring over the newspaper. It wasn’t the life he would have chosen, but he’d known far worse and could appreciate what he had. Looking in the want-ads just for the fun of it, as he did most mornings, Miles perused the personals with an amused grin.
Out loud, he read, “SGWM, 30’s, athletic, professional, looking for the same. How boring.”
It was towards the end of the
page that he found an ad that sent him reeling. His fingers traced the ad in
wonder and he read slowly, “To Miles Mc, from Dr. Stephen. All is forgiven.
Please come home. Lessons included free of charge and all previous rules apply.
Time limit offer, so please come home by
How is it possible? Miles
wondered, still in shock. How could he possibly want me back?
Was it a trap? Would Stephen do something like that out of fury at losing him? The Stephen he knew wouldn’t, but the pictures had shown a man without emotion, over the last few months. Could he trust the man who had taken care of him, or should he listen to reason and stay right where he was?
Biting his lip, Miles stared at the ad for a long time before he went to the phone and called the newspaper.
* * * *
Miles watched as Stephen and Eva talked in the parking lot. It was long passed work hours, the summer night warm, but he’d seen Stephen’s car in the parking lot and had known the other man was still at work. He’d been waiting for a glimpse of the other man for almost four hours and his bladder was screaming for him to find somewhere to relieve it, but he ignored his body with the ease of long practice.
Seeing the other man was something akin to a shock. In the parking lights, Stephen looked tired and careworn, like he hadn’t been looking after himself. Miles couldn’t hear what was being said, but the way Eva fluttered around Stephen spoke of concern. She looked tired, as well, and Miles had to hold himself in check as he watched them. He had two weeks left on the deadline and wanted to keep an eye on things to make sure it wasn’t a trap.
After all this time, he didn’t believe Stephen would set one, but he did think the other man would believe those in higher political power when they promised something. Miles didn’t have the luxury of trust, however, and time was still on his side so he could afford to be cautious. Stephen finally walked Eva to her car and then got in his own, driving off in short order.
Leaving his spot behind a large tree, Miles walked away from the parking lot to the nearest fast food restaurant. He was hungry and could take care of his bladder at the same time. It was more than likely that Stephen was on his way home, so Miles knew where to find him.
* * * *
When Saturday came and still no sign of Miles, Stephen picked Jack up and brought him to the park so they could practice with the swords he’d bought just before Miles’ kidnapping. He hadn’t had the heart to use them, given that Miles had helped pick them out. Given how many times he’d ignored his son in his grief over losing Miles, Stephen wanted to spend some real time with the boy.
There was only a week left and it looked like Miles wasn’t going to show, not that he blamed the slave. It was impossible for the young man to know that it wasn’t a trap. Stephen didn’t hold anything against Miles, but wished that just one more time, the slave would trust him. The ads had run in the newspapers continuously across the country and it was a good thing that Stephen had plenty of funds to draw on. It helped that Mike was subsidizing half of the ads, but it was still a costly venture. Stephen would gladly empty his bank account if it brought him Miles, but the whole thing felt futile now.
Bringing his attention back to his son, Stephen ordered, “Okay, take position, Jack.”
Jack did so and Stephen corrected his stance before stepping aside and running through the warm-up exercises with him. That took a good half-hour and then they sparred for another half hour. When the hour was up, Stephen felt better than he had in a long time, the good mood buoyed by his son’s smiling face and earnest concentration.
They walked to a nearby ice-cream vendor after and then sat on a bench, just sharing company. After a while, Jack said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better now, Dad. I missed you.”
Stephen kissed the top of his head and said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much for you, Jack.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” Jack replied. “I know you miss Miles. I do, too. Is he coming back soon?”
Sighing, Stephen answered, “I hope so, kiddo. We’ll know in another week.”
“So, if he doesn’t come back in a week…” Jack’s voice trailed off, uncertain.
Stephen’s throat constricted, but he confirmed, “Then he can’t come back.”
“Not ever?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Stephen replied, clearing his throat.
Looking sad, but curious, Jack asked, “Will you get another slave?”
Stephen shook his head and answered firmly, “No. Never. If Miles doesn’t come back in a week, then it’s just going to be you and me, kiddo.”
“Then maybe can I come back now?”
Stephen’s heart just about stopped at the quiet words, his viewpoint narrowing to an extremely small spot for several seconds. He finally managed to look over and found a strange version of Miles standing hesitantly a few feet away. This one had light brown, almost blond hair, tanned skin and blue eyes. He was rail thin, almost as though the year they’d had together hadn’t happened and he was just as physically weak as when Stephen had found him in the camp.
One second Stephen was on the bench with Jack and the next he was at Miles’ side, holding him so tight that Miles’ belt buckle dug into his stomach.
Miles’ arms went around him too, and he shook violently as he pleaded, “Don’t be angry with me, please don’t, Master! I was so scared, I wanted to come back, I really did, I never wanted to leave in the first place, you have to believe me. Let me prove it, please Master, please let me prove it to you!”
Stephen stopped the frantic words with an equally frantic kiss, taking the young man’s mouth with his own and devouring it. Miles responded just as hungrily and only Jack’s presence kept Stephen from Claiming the slave, then and there on the park grass. As it was, he couldn’t stop kissing Miles, his hands in a deathgrip around Miles’ belt to keep him in place. Not that Miles was going anywhere, given how tight he held to Stephen in return.
“Um, Dad? Miles? People are staring,” Jack interrupted in a stage whisper.
Laughter bubbled up and Stephen broke the kiss to let it out. The Gods knew that he had barely even smiled since Miles’ kidnapping. He wasn’t going to cheat Aphrodite of her due, not now that she’d wrought a miracle in their honor. Staring into the new blue eyes that held a very familiar soul, Stephen whispered, “Let’s go, my own.”
Miles stole another kiss, then nodded. Before they could go anywhere, though, Miles dropped gracefully to his knees and bent forward, pressing his lips to Stephen’s sneakers and then laying his arms forward in a formal obeisance. Touched to the soul by the gesture, Stephen crouched down and placed his hand on Miles’ head in a benediction, saying, “I love you, Miles, let’s go home.”
Rising at Stephen’s hand to his shoulder, Miles stood and promptly latched onto Stephen to whisper, “They won’t take me from you, will they? Please don’t let them, Master. I’ll do anything, so long as I can stay with you.”
Stephen cupped the slave’s face and promised, “No one will take you from me ever again, Miles, on Jack’s life.”
Miles gasped at the vow and again threw his arms around Stephen, stopping their progress towards the car. Sensing that they weren’t going to get very far if Miles was as emotionally wrecked as he felt, Stephen simply lifted the slight body into his arms and strode the rest of the way to the car.
Fortunately, Jack was all smiles about the whole thing, even going so far as to wink at his father when he climbed into the back seat. Stephen chuckled at that and carefully set Miles in the front passenger’s seat. Cupping Miles’ face again, Stephen told him, “Buckle up, Miles.”
Miles nodded, smiling shyly at him as Stephen closed the door and walked around the front of the car. Pulling out his cell phone as he climbed in the driver’s seat, Stephen called Eva to tell her the good news.
* * * *
The first stop after driving Jack home was the apartment that Miles hadn’t seen since his kidnapping. Well, not the inside of it, anyhow. He’d been watching the outside for glimpses of Stephen or almost a week. A couple of times he’d almost been picked up for loitering, but he’d managed to get away before the cops could detain him. The air felt stale, as though it hadn’t been used regularly in his absence, but he didn’t have time to ask about it as Stephen pounced the moment they were in the door.
Miles staggered under the other man’s onslaught, but welcomed it. He’d been so long without the other man’s touch that he was desperate for it. The rough hands were still more gentle than any of his previous masters and the mouth on his was filled with love as well as hunger. Miles jumped up to wrap his legs around Stephen’s waist and was caught up in the strong embrace. His back was against the wall seconds later as Stephen used the leverage to keep him in place while tearing at his jeans.
Helping by not interfering, Miles pressed kisses to his Master’s face, nuzzling at his ear and nibbling lightly along his stubbled chin. Within moments, he was swiveled away from the wall, Stephen’s arms around him as they stumbled through the hall towards the bedroom. The drugging kisses were back, Stephen’s mouth demanding no more than Miles wanted to give. They landed on the bed less than a minute later and he moaned at he weight upon him, legs tightening around his Master’s waist.
“Oh Gods, Miles, look at you,” Stephen murmured when he broke free. “You look so different. I want to get rid of those contacts.”
Miles nodded and rolled a bit onto his side to remove the contacts, flicking them blindly onto the bedside table. It took a few blinks to get his vision back to normal, but when he did, there was something like relief on Stephen’s face. Smiling, Miles asked, “Better?”
Stephen kissed him, saying against his lips, “Much,” before deepening it further. Giving himself up to the sensation, Miles moaned into his Master’s mouth and splayed his legs apart. Stephen took the invitation and yanked Miles’ pants down the rest of the way, taking the briefs down with them. There was a short tussle with his own clothes and then their groins were pressed together, provoking a simultaneous moan from them both.
Reaching to the bedside table, Stephen yanked the drawer open and pulled out the lube, but Miles grabbed his hand to stop him. Meeting the pale blue of his owner’s eyes, Miles asked hoarsely, “Claim me, please, Master? I need to feel you in me.”
“You will, my own, but we don’t need to…”
“Please?”
Stephen nodded and dropped the lube. “Have you…been with anyone else?”
“No!” Miles exclaimed. “Never!”
A fierce smile spread rapidly over Stephen’s face as he took Miles’ mouth in a hard kiss, thrusting his tongue into the slave’s mouth. Never before had he felt so desperate to have Stephen inside him. The ache to be filled with his Master’s body was incessant and demanding and he thrust up against the other man. Seconds later, he moaned again, this time in pain as his body was breeched by Stephen’s cock. He panted through it, relishing the soft murmurs of encouragement and the careful way he was Claimed. Even in the midst of his need, Stephen went gently, his love and care obvious.
It seemed both too long, and not long enough before Stephen was fully sheathed in Miles’ body. Staring up into the other man’s eyes, seeing the love therein, Miles whispered, “I love you, Stephen. I’m so sorry.”
“Ssh, my own, nothing to apologize for,” Stephen assured him. “None of this was your fault, I don’t blame you for anything. I love you too, Miles, I always will.”
And then he started moving, stealing Miles’ breath at the stretch and burn as he was taken. He couldn’t stop staring into Stephen’s eyes as they joined together, slowly at first, and then with greater force. Tears of love and pain escaped and he gripped Stephen’s shoulders tight, urging him on with a gasped, “Claim me, Master!”
Stephen groaned and his infamous control broke. Miles had to put a hand up against the headboard to keep himself in place as Stephen rutted hard into him. Hard and leaking, Miles arched up against his Master’s stomach, desperate for some friction around his own cock.
“Touch yourself, Miles, come for me, my own,” Stephen ordered, face tight with need and exertion.
Miles obeyed, stroking himself eagerly. It wasn’t going to take long for either of them, he knew. His entire body shook as he panted and strained to come. Stephen slammed into him deep, skimming over his prostrate and sending him over the edge. Crying out as he came, Miles bucked hard enough to jolt Stephen who continued to plunge in and out of him. Only seconds later, Stephen groaned and came, spilling deep into Miles’ body, spasming in orgasm for several long moments.
When Stephen collapsed atop him, Miles was still panting from his own release, but he managed to wrap his arms around the larger man. Everything was right in his world again and he savored the sweaty body in and around him. Miles brushed his hand over Stephen’s head and kissed the other man’s cheek and ear tenderly.
Stephen rolled them unexpectedly so that Miles was on top. Laughing in breathless delight, Miles smiled down at his Master and said, “Thank you, Stephen, thank you for taking me back.”
“I would have done so the moment you were free of Frankel, Miles,” Stephen told him. “I understand that it wasn’t anything you had control over, and I know you were afraid to come back. That’s all done with now. You’re safe.”
Miles sighed deeply and plastered himself over Stephen, grimacing in annoyance when their bodies separated. He would have been happy to have the other man in him overnight and longer, as unfeasible as that was. The soothing motion of Stephen’s hand over his back sent him easily towards slumber, probably the first good one he’d had in months.
Just as the comforting, welcome darkness overtook him, the world erupted into shouting and chaos and he was ripped from Stephen’s arms. Awake in a heartbeat, Miles struggled violently to get to Stephen, who had downed four of their attackers to get to him. He viciously put down another two, breaking one’s neck and the other’s nose, before sheer numbers overwhelmed him and he was clubbed into unconsciousness. Miles screamed for Stephen and was backhanded for his efforts.
He blacked out momentarily, because when the world righted itself again, Miles found himself on the floor with his arms bound behind his back. Stephen was in the same position, but still out cold. His mind went numb with shock when a familiar pair of simple, black shoes walked into view.
Crouching down beside him, Miles’ former owner gave him an unpleasant smile as he greeted, “Hello there, pretty. It’s so good to see you again. We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we, little one?”
The terms of endearment brought Miles back to the veritable torture he’d suffered at the man’s hands and he whimpered in fear. Even in the darkened room with only the hall light for illumination, Miles could see the other man hadn’t changed. He was still severely handsome, dark eyes bright with cruelty and dark hair streaked with silver to make him look distinguished.
Kenneth Whittle III gripped Miles’ chin painfully tight as he continued in a sweetly venomous tone, “I can take your new playmate with us, or I can leave him here, little one, which would you prefer?”
Miles didn’t dare look at Stephen. Not that Whittle wouldn’t already know of his attachment to the doctor, but maybe he could downplay it. He answered in a shaky voice, “As it pleases you, Master.”
“I have so longed to hear that from you this interminable year, my pretty,” the other man informed him. Standing, he ordered, “Bring the bitch, leave the old man. Time is wasting.”
Casting a last, desperate glance at Stephen as he was dragged from the room, Miles could only pray that one of the team would come over to check on them.