Stephen woke slowly, something that he could recall doing only twice before in his life. Both times, he’d been under anesthesia due to some kind of emergency surgery. The familiar stuffy-headed feeling, as well as the nausea, told him that this case was just the same. The steady rhythm of a monitor confirmed his hospital setting, as did his vision, once he figured out how to open his eyes.
To his surprise, he was on the other side of an ICU tent and that made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever. Had he succumbed to some disease he couldn’t remember contracting? The last thing he remembered was…
Stephen’s monitor spiked, tripling in speed as memories of the attack in his apartment assaulted him. Miles had returned to him, only to be taken by unknown men in masks, by force.
“Easy, Stephen, take a breath,” Frank’s firm, comforting voice ordered.
Looking to the side showed Frank standing from the chair at his bedside and Stephen forced himself to calm down. Even that much emotion left him drained and weak. “Did they find him? Where’s Miles? How long was I out?”
“You’ve been out for two days,” Frank answered, grave. “They haven’t found Miles, but there’s a lot of evidence for them to sift through still at your apartment. All the forensics haven’t come back yet.”
Despair ran through Stephen. He’d come so close to getting Miles back. Had had Miles back and then had lost him after vowing to never let him be hurt again.
Frank’s hand closed around his and the big man said softly, “We’ll find him, Stephen.”
But will it be before more damage has been done? I don’t even know what the repercussions of his first kidnapping were, let alone this one, Stephen thought, eyes closing to mask his pain as best he could.
This kidnapping left him cold with fear and fury in equal measures, which his body couldn’t take. Alarms started beeping loudly and darkness swirled, narrowing his vision. Stephen managed to demand, “Find him, Frank. Save him, for me.”
“Stephen? Stephen, don’t you die on me, damn it! I need help in here!”
But the words came from far away as the darkness took him once more.
* * * *
Confusion hadn’t yet overcome the fear, but it was getting there. For the last few days, he’d been chained to his Master’s empty bed. There’d been no move to hurt him, no move to Claim him, no abuse, verbal or physical. He’d been fed and given water on a regular basis, even allowed to use the bathroom.
All in all, it was as far from his first enslavement at this man’s hands, as night from day.
On the fifth, maybe sixth day since he’d lost track, Miles was unlocked from the shackles and brought to the large bathroom for a thorough cleaning. He stood silent and quiescent as his body was handled gently by other slaves, enduring the enema without flinching. He didn’t recognize any of them, but wasn’t surprised; house slaves at the Whittle estate didn’t last long. They didn’t attempt to speak to him, and Miles certainly didn’t ask any questions. The best he could hope for, was to not provoke any punishment through word or deed.
When his cleaning was over, Miles stood adorned only in loose-fitting slave pants that hung low on his hips. The slaves rubbed sandalwood oil into his back and torso, then through his damp hair.
“This way,” one said, leaving the bathroom.
Miles followed the young slave out and down the long hall that led from the bedroom to the main stairwell. He walked barefoot down to the foyer, ignoring the other slaves who ignored him on the way. They came to a stop outside the doors to Master Whittle’s study, doors that had led to many, humiliating experiences. Miles took a deep breath, aware that the other slave was giving him time to compose himself. Looking over at the young man, Miles gave a short nod and returned his gaze to the floor.
Entering the richly appointed room, Miles took the prescribed four steps forward before dropping to his knees and then bending forward into formal obeisance.
“Stand.”
Miles stood as gracefully as he could and waited, eyes downcast, doing his best not to shake with the fear that coiled in his stomach.
“Look at me, little one.”
The endearment was only faintly mocking, imbued with none of the affection and love that Stephen had always managed. Shifting his eyes upward, Miles met the dark eyes of his former, and now current, Master but remained silent.
Sitting in the chair behind the desk, Kenneth Whittle didn’t seem to have changed a bit since the last time Miles had seen him. It had been almost two years since he’d been cast down into the hell of the camp, this man watching coldly as he’d been dragged, begging, from the house. The dark eyes were every bit as cold now and Miles instinctively knew that he was on even thinner ice now, than before.
“I understand that you’ve become a doctor since last we saw one another.”
Directly addressed, Miles couldn’t help the slight tremor in his voice as he replied, “Not yet, Master. I am still a semester from completing my studies.”
“I see. And what, specifically, have you been studying?”
Somehow more frightened at the supposed interest, Miles answered, “Epidemiology.”
“Come here, Miles.”
Miles swallowed fearfully, but obeyed.
“Kneel.”
Miles knelt.
Strong fingers laced through his hair before pulling painfully tight and tilting his head to the side. Master Whittle bent forward to murmur into his ear, “Do you believe this makes you special? That you should be treated differently because some closet abolitionist gave you leave to think for yourself?”
“No, Master,” Miles immediately gasped.
The cruel grip was released and Master Whittle dropped a newspaper on the floor in front of him and said, “Well-respected Dr. Stephen Connor, lead investigator for the NIH, was buried today at a funeral attended by hundreds of mourners. He died from injuries suffered during a brutal home invasion. Though offering a reward for any information leading to the capture and conviction of his killers, authorities have no apparent leads and no clear direction in which to take the case.”
Numb, Miles’ eyes locked onto the pictures on the front page of the paper. Pictures of a grim Frank holding Eva while Natalie looked hollow-eyed at a newly filled gravesite. Lisa held Jack in her arms, the boy seeming especially small in his mother’s embrace. There were a lot of other people in the photo that he didn’t recognize, but Dr. Chimienti sat beside Lisa and Jack in the front row. She appeared so old and fragile that Miles wanted to somehow reach through the photo and hold her.
“I’m showing you this so that you know there’s no escape,” Master Whittle continued. “No one will look for you. No one will rescue you. No one will even care that you disappeared, again, in the face of his death. You belong to me, as you always have and always will.”
It felt strange in that Miles couldn’t feel anything at all. No urge to vomit. No need to run. No desire to fight back or strike out.
Master Whittle cupped Miles’ chin, lifting his face so that their eyes met. Moment’s later, a smile surfaced and he murmured, “Yes. This is what I was working towards from the second I saw you. The perfect slave.”
Miles straddled his Master’s lap when tugged forward onto it, facing the larger man without hesitation. Nothing mattered any more. If he had to live, it didn’t matter who he served.
The kiss was so much ash in his mouth.
* * * *
Miles stared out at the impeccably landscaped yard from his spot on the chaise lounge by the pool. The last month had seen many changes in his life, not the least of which being the adornments to his body. His nipples were pierced, as was his belly and a small tattoo with the Whittle family crest had been inked in pure black on his chest, just about his heart. The heavy gold Chain he wore didn’t even register anymore; it hadn’t since a couple of days after it had been welded on. All of it together was a constant, background reminder that his own body no longer belonged to him.
The second biggest change was that Master Whittle was kind to him. As if by taking away the only thing he had to live for, the other man was determined to give him other things to occupy him. Nothing that would stimulate his mind or interrupt the gray fog that suffused him, but things that kept him alive. The care of the slaves was his now. Seeing to their needs and tending to them allowed him an acceptable reason not to kill himself. Aside from that, Master Whittle Claimed him only rarely and on other occasions, used his body almost gently. There were only a few instances when Miles himself needed care and that was indeed a big change.
There had been two dinner parties since his return and Miles had been shown off at both. Naked save for his jewelry, Miles had remained at his Master’s side the entire night, held there possessively by a golden leash that matched his Chain. Miles had spent the time on his knees, but not servicing anyone, not even his own Master and that, too, was a marked change from his time before as Whittle property.
“Miles.”
Looking over at his Master’s quiet call of his name, Miles stood and walked over to the outstretched hand. Kneeling beside the man, not taking any real look at the stranger who’d accompanied his Master, Miles waited for instructions.
“He is wonderful,” the newcomer observed, lust underscoring the words. “Just as you boasted. I’ll learn never to question your judgment again, Whittle.”
Master Whittle laughed softly. “I’ve heard that before. Miles, go get us some refreshment.”
Miles nodded and obediently left to arrange for food and drinks. Returning in short order, he took surreptitious note of the stranger; darkly blond hair and a hard edge to him with pale eyes, he didn’t seem right. His clothes were expensive, but his manner…Miles couldn’t quite think of the right word, but rough and dangerous came to mind. Miles vaguely wondered what on earth his Master had to do with this odd man. The conversation went on over his head, literally, as the two men talked about business and Miles stared at the glittering sunlight on the pool. It wasn’t until the conversation ended, that Miles realized how much time had passed. He’d fallen into some kind of trance, as often happened of late.
“There’s no way I can convince you to trade for this one?”
Mildly curious, Miles didn’t look up at the words, instead going still as he waited for the answer.
“Miles is mine until one of us dies,” Master Whittle replied, his voice hard. “Don’t even think about it, Jack.”
The man stood and said, “No
offense, Whittle. Just asking. So,
tomorrow at
“Ready and waiting.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
Miles stood to accompany them to the door where the man named Jack left, entering a sleek sports car in the driveway. Master Whittle grabbed him unexpectedly and shoved him against a wall. Miles didn’t even have time to brace himself, hitting the hard surface face first and feeling a sharp pain in his nose as his Master covered him from behind.
“Forever, Miles. I’m never letting you go. Someone’s going to have to kill me first.”
As his Master’s hands shoved Miles’ pants down, uncaring of their location, Miles retreated into the fog that had become his refuge.
* * * *
When the man returned the following day, Miles moved a lot slower to get their refreshments. Something about the new business associate had unsettled Master Whittle enough to bring back old habits. After the Claiming had come a whipping that had left Miles bleeding in places, though it wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d suffered more than once in the past. He’d spent the night chained to the foot of the bed, getting almost no rest. Intense, hard blue eyes met his when Jack entered the house and Miles felt a brief shiver of emotion, reminded of Stephen for some reason.
Miles served the two men and took his place silently beside Master Whittle. The conversation immediately turned to business and something about Jack, maybe his eyes, broke through the fog so that Miles actually listened to what was being said.
“…the delivery is tomorrow at
Jack replied easily, “Half the money has already been transferred. The rest will be sent to your account when I inspect the shipment.”
In an apparent change of subject, Master Whittle questioned, “Are you going to still be in town this weekend? I’m having a dinner party.”
“I’ll be long gone, but thanks for the invite,” Jack answered. Standing, he continued, “I have some loose ends to tie up before our meeting tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”
“Miles, see Mr. Werrell out and then come to my study.”
Miles swallowed at the order, throat tight with fear, but stood immediately and led the way to the front door.
Jack caught up to him and said softly, “I need your help, Miles. My name is Jack Bauer and I’m a federal agent. Your Master is supplying arms to terrorists and I need you to hide his harddrive so that it isn’t destroyed before we can use it as evidence.”
Keeping his eyes on the floor, Miles gritted his teeth against the rise of emotions, forcing them back as best he could to answer, “I can’t help you.”
“You can, Miles. You can help me and save a lot of lives in the process. I’ve heard what you do for the other slaves. Seen you taking care of them. I know that you care what happens, no matter what mask you present to the world. Help me now. Help me make sure your Master doesn’t harm anyone else in the future.”
One day in the past, that would have meant something to Miles. Now, without Stephen, vengeance was meaningless. They arrived at the door and he looked up, into the pale blue eyes that were just a shade too dark to be the same color as Stephen’s, and he asked softly, “Will you let me kill myself, if I do this for you?”
Shock lit through those eyes at his request, rendering the other silent briefly. Only briefly. “Yes, if that’s what you truly want.”
Miles closed his eyes, thinking of the day that he could end this mockery of life, and nodded as he replied, “I’ll help you.”
* * * *
Jack couldn’t get those dark eyes out of his head. All he could see was Whittle’s slave in his mind’s eye. The way there’d only been a hint of emotion when the young man had asked to end his own life. How he’d moved so gracefully and yet so listlessly.
They’d known that Whittle’s personal slave was a new acquisition, so Jack had been sure it would be the perfect in. Converting the slave with a promise of freedom was a simple and sure-fire proposition, no matter how the young man had come to be a slave. He knew that Chase would have leapt at the chance, once upon a time. And the new slave had looked young enough from surveillance that rehabilitation for a life outside of slavery wouldn’t be that hard to accomplish with the right therapy.
Taking the bastard down wasn’t hard. They could’ve moved on him at any time in the last month since the man had come to their attention. The problem came with the security measures Chloe had found on the man’s computer system. In order to ensure that the evidence they needed to track down the terrorist cell wouldn’t be destroyed, the harddrive itself had to be physically disconnected.
He pulled up in front of CTU and took a few seconds to compose himself. Chase would know he was off-kilter the second he saw Jack if he didn’t get himself under control. The young man felt bad enough about being confined to CTU instead of being in the field with Jack, there was no reason to make him feel worse. Finally in control, Jack left the sports car and headed inside to make his report to Tony.
Tony was in his office, no surprise there, but Chase was nowhere in sight when Jack strode into the main bullpen. Frowning as he looked around, Jack nonetheless climbed the stairs to Tony’s office. When he entered the office, the first thing he asked was, “Where’s Chase?”
Dark eyes met his as Tony answered, “At home. There was a problem with the sitter.”
Jack grimaced, sitting in the chair in front of the desk. “I never liked that girl, but he wanted to come into work for this one.”
“It’s too bad you can’t get Kim to babysit,” Tony offered wryly.
Jack snorted and replied, “That’d go over well. Besides, she’s in school and I don’t want to take her out of classes for something like this. We just need to find someone who isn’t going to flake.”
“Now that the small talk’s out of the way,” Tony prompted.
“The slave’s going to help,” Jack told him. “The deal’s set for tomorrow at two. We need to get everyone prepped and in place.”
Leaning forward, Tony said, “If we get him…”
“We’ll get him,” Jack promised.
Tony nodded. “All right. Go home and see to Chase, then get your ass back here and finish this. We need to move on to the next link in the chain.”
Standing, Jack said, “Thanks, Tony.”
It took almost a half-hour to get to the house they had bought shortly after Chase’s maiming. It was midway between CTU and the hospital where he’d gone for physical therapy. When Jack had discovered Chase had a daughter, he’d gone ballistic. Even thinking about how he’d reacted caused him to flush with shame. Shaking off the extraneous emotion as he pulled into the driveway, Jack reminded himself that the only thing that mattered was that Chase had forgiven him and they were now solidly together.
Climbing out of the car, Jack strode to the house and called out Chase’s name as soon as he entered. The young man called back from the nursery and Jack smiled as he headed to the far bedroom. They met up half-way, Susie bright-eyed and wide awake in Chase’s arms. Shaking his head, Jack observed, “She doesn’t look that tired to me, if you’re trying to get her to nap.”
“Tell me about it,” Chase groused, yawning. “All the rocking’s done is nearly put me under.”
Jack chuckled and took the toddler from her father. “Giving your Dad a hard time, I see. Good girl.”
“Please don’t rev her up more, Jack.”
Stealing a lingering kiss from Chase calmed the slave down a bit; enough to prompt a reluctant smile anyhow. Jack pressed his lips briefly to Susie’s forehead and told the slave, “Tony suggested that we get Kim to babysit. It’s a good idea, don’t you think?”
Chase looked so horrified that Jack couldn’t help laughing. When the slave realized he’d been had, he made a face at Jack and observed, “I could always call Michelle and see if she needs me to help with her mother again.”
It was an effective threat and Jack immediately stopped laughing. Michelle’s mother was an honorable, good woman who lived to torture Jack by keeping Chase overnight, often for several nights at a time, on the flimsiest excuse. Usually when Chase was thoroughly disgusted or pissed at something Jack had done.
Clearing his throat, Jack put an arm around Chase’s waist and drew the slender man in as he apologized, “I won’t do it again, Chase. Come on, let’s call a real agency and see who we can get in here to take care of Susie. We need you at CTU for this op.”
“I thought it was taken care of,” Chase questioned, following Jack to the kitchen. “And I’m not allowed to do field work yet, so what do you need me for?”
Stopping to grip Chase’s chin lightly in his hand, Jack told him seriously, “Not ever, Chase. I want you to get that through your head. You will never pick up another gun, ever again. I will never put you in danger like that.”
“Jack…”
“Never.”
Chase looked mutinous, but Jack simply held his gaze until the blue-gray eyes lowered in reluctant submission. It was a challenge, keeping the balance poised between equality and dominance, but also something that Jack relished. Chase got to him in a way that his wife never had, as much in love as they’d been at the time of her murder. It had taken a long time to truly let Chase into his life, and parts of him were still hidden away, but Jack couldn’t imagine his life without the slave. And now, with Susie, it was like he had a second chance to have the family he’d always wanted. To not make the same mistakes he’d made with Kim and his wife.
“So what do you need me for?” Chase finally asked.
Jack continued on to the kitchen and said, “I’m using a slave on the inside to get information we need and I need you to help keep him alive.”
Chase blinked at him in surprise, instinctively plucking Susie from Jack’s arms and cradling her with his good arm. “What do you mean, ‘keep him alive?’”
“I mean, he wants to die,” Jack stated. “I don’t know what this kid’s been through, but his payment for helping isn’t his life, but his death. That was what he wanted.”
Chase hugged Susie tighter and breathed, “Jesus. Jack, that’s crazy.”
“I think…” Jack’s voice trailed off as he thought his words through carefully. Meeting Chase’s gaze, he finally said, “I want to bring him home, when everything’s said and done, Chase. I only saw him a couple of times, but I think there’s more to him than the automaton he’s become. There might not be, but something in my gut says he can be saved.”
A fond smile crossed Chase’s face as he observed, “And if someone can save him, it’ll be you.”
Jack flushed and pulled the slave in for a slow, deep kiss. Susie protested with a loud, “My Daddy!” and slapping at Jack’s shoulder. Chuckling, he pulled back and gently poked her in the stomach before warning, “You need to learn to share, honey.”
She blew a raspberry at him and wrapped her arms around Chase’s neck.
Arching an eyebrow at Chase, Jack observed, “I think someone needs to set down some ground rules before I do.”
“Sorry, Master,” Chase replied demurely.
Given how often the blue-eyed girl got around them both, Jack relented with a rueful chuckle as he said, “Definitely need to get a nanny in here before we spoil her rotten. Come on. Get her bag packed and let’s head out. We have things to do before tomorrow.”
* * * *
Miles woke the next morning with a sense of anticipation. His body responded to his commands only sluggishly, unresponsive, but the rest of him was more than ready to go. Barely feeling it as Master Whittle pushed him down on the bed to Claim him, Miles waited for the man to finish, coming with a groan and violent jerk inside him.
Standing, Master Whittle gave him a light slap on the ass and said, “Good, little one, very good. I enjoy you more every day. Clean up and meet me downstairs in the dining room.”
Miles pushed himself upright as his Master grabbed a robe and walked out of the bedroom, whistling cheerfully. It didn’t take long to wash up and make himself presentable in the ornate bathroom. That done, Miles walked silently to the dining room where Master Whittle had already started eating and knelt beside him. Every-so-often a piece of bacon or toast found its way to his mouth and he ate without comment or protest. It wasn’t at all like the times that Stephen had fed him by hand; there was no pleasure in it, just the mechanics of keeping his body going.
At least for a little longer.
“Bella! Get the car ready!” Whittle called out unexpectedly.
Fingers laced into Miles’ hair and pulled his head back so he had to look at the other man. Keeping calm was easy, being that he knew the end was coming for him. “Yes, Master?”
Whittle took his mouth in a
kiss and then ordered, “I want you naked in my bed by
It was unheard of freedom, but Miles didn’t even bat an eye. “Thank you, Master.”
A slow smile spread over Whittle’s face as he breathed, “Perfect, little one, just perfect.”
The praise rang hollow, but Miles repeated, “Thank you, Master.”
Whittle took another kiss before striding out of the room.
For a few minutes, Miles just
knelt there, not sure what to do. He thought about going in and disconnecting
the harddrive then and there, but decided against it.
Not that anyone would question him going into Whittle’s
study, because they wouldn’t. Glancing at the clock showed that it was only
just
Miles stood and returned to the bedroom. He looked around the large, expensively decorated room and then moved beyond it to the bathroom. He’d given his word to help the agent, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get ready. His life might not have meant much, but his death would at least have meaning.
Soaking in the sunken tub brought back happy memories of more crowded and far happier baths with Stephen. They hadn’t indulged often, but once or twice a month he’d managed to coax Stephen into the tub for more than a quick shower. They would soak until the water grew cool and have to be reheated, then inevitably wind up making love. Now and again, he would fall asleep in the hot water in Stephen’s arms and wake up in bed, just the same way.
The tears came unbidden and Miles didn’t try to stop them. Slow and hot and devastating, Miles finally allowed himself to cry for his lover, sobbing in the hot water until he couldn’t cry any more. Pulling himself together took a great effort, but Miles finally did so. He hauled himself out of the tub and dried off, grimacing at his red, swollen eyes.
“This won’t do as a devotion. Not at all,” he scolded himself. “Aphrodite doesn’t want someone who looks like this. You’re supposed to be joyful, not crying your eyes out. Soon you’ll be with Stephen in his Elysian Fields and that’s all that matters.”
Not that Stephen was a big religious fiend, but Miles knew that the ideas implanted into a young mind took firm root, whatever those ideas might be. It didn’t really matter what one grew into, because in the back of a person’s mind, there would always be the lingering belief that what parents instilled, was the true belief. Well, in Miles’ humble opinion at least. And since Stephen had been raised Olympian, Miles could only hope that if he prayed hard enough to the Goddess of Love, even if he didn’t quite believe in her, he would be allowed to join his Master there.
So he shaved himself completely, all the way down to his balls, and gave himself an enema. Once that was taken care of, he showered to be sure that he was clean and rubbed himself down with oil. By the time he finished everything, it was two in the afternoon and time to get things done. Striding naked from the bathroom, he pulled out a clean pair of silk pajama bottoms then headed for the study.
As anticipated, no one stopped him from entering the study. Miles unplugged every single computer device he could find both from the power supply and other pieces. He sat on the floor staring at the various computer components for a long time. He heard the front door break open with shouts of “Federal Agents!” and “Everyone down!” but didn’t even move when the study doors burst open and Jack Bauer hurried inside.
“Miles, good, you got everything,” Jack greeted, taking in the sight of him and the pieces at a glance. “Are you all right?”
Looking up at the blond man, Miles felt a brief stirring inside, but it faded easily enough. “I’m fine. Can I kill myself now?”
The question seemed to stymie Jack for a few seconds, but then he shook his head and said, “We need you for witness statements. Once that’s done, I’ll hand you the blade myself.”
Miles thought about it a moment, then nodded agreement. “Thank you.”
He took Jack’s hand when it was held down to him and was pulled to his feet, encircled by strong arms as the agent led him out of the house.
* * * *
Jack brought Miles into one of the conference rooms when they got back to CTU, wishing he had more than just a jacket to put around the too-slender shoulders. Even among the good men and women that Jack worked with, there were plenty of admiring and assessing looks to the slave that had him tense and on edge. Once he’d settled the silent young man in the room and placed a guard on the door with orders not to let anyone at him, Jack went in search of Chase.
He found his slave arguing with Chloe, but it stopped the instant he walked into the room. Bright eyes met his and Chase asked, “Everything go all right?”
Jack nodded. “He’s waiting. Come on.”
Chase hurried to him and said, “I had an idea after you left this morning. Which conference room is he in?”
“C,” Jack answered. “Why? What idea?”
Kissing Jack’s cheek, Chase smiled. “Trust me. I’ll meet you there.”
Jack opened his mouth to call after his errant slave, but then grinned and shook his head. Chase’s instincts were usually on track, so he headed back to the conference room, but got stalled by Tony. The conversation took longer than he wanted, but at least he knew that the files they’d gotten from Whittle’s computers had been worth the effort. It was only five percent decrypted, but even that small part had yielded a massive payoff.
Getting to the conference room some ten minutes later, Jack stopped short on finding Miles holding Susie with more animation than he’d ever seen. Just the very faintest of smiles, but the dark eyes were warm and the hands sure as they held the toddler. This was someone with saving, as he’d originally thought.
“I see you started without me,” Jack commented.
Miles startled, instinctively pulling Susie in closer.
Chase touched the other slave’s shoulder as he soothed, “It’s okay, Miles, Susie is just as much Jack’s daughter as mine now. He loves both of us very much, even if he rarely says it.”
Jack winced at the pointed tone, but couldn’t gainsay him. Chase wasn’t usually so verbal about what he needed, but they hadn’t had any time alone together for quite a while. Joining them at the table, Jack put his hand on Chase’s waist and confirmed, “I do, very much. So what was this big idea you had this morning after I left?”
Leaning against him, Chase said to Miles, “Jack and I work incessantly and, as you can see, I’m still recovering from my last field assignment.”
“Oh my God,” Miles breathed, reaching out towards the massively scarred wrist, but stopping just shy of reaching it. “How’s the nerve damage? I guess your circulation’s okay or they would have given you a prosthetic, but you should still keep an eye on it. You go in for regular check-ups, I hope? Physical therapy should be an ongoing thing, even if it feels like you’ve got it all under control.”
Jack exchanged a surprised look with Chase, then motioned for him to continue.
Clearing his throat, Chase answered, “Ah, yes. I have physical therapy once every two weeks and see a doctor monthly, but so far so good. I can use my hand, but the damage was pretty severe.”
Miles gently cupped the hand with his free one, turning it over slowly. “I would say, yeah. It was completely severed, wasn’t it?”
“Miles, are you a doctor?” Jack asked.
Withdrawing his hand from Chase and hugging Susie to him, Miles whispered, “No. I almost was, in another life.”
“Miles, Jack brought you here to keep you from killing yourself,” Chase told him. “We want you to live with us and help me take care of Susie. She’s already too much for me and Jack simply doesn’t have the time needed to properly look after her. Not to mention the times when they need to bring me in to help at CTU, even if I’m not in the field.”
Miles’ eyes had widened with hurt and betrayal at Chase’s first words, but the slave calmed by the end of Chase’s impromptu explanation. He looked down at where Susie slept in his arms, something that rarely happened for either Jack or Chase, despite Chase being the biological father. “I could take care of her?”
Chase looked to Jack for confirmation, which was given in a quick nod, and said, “That would be your primary responsibility.”
“And you’re not going to sell her later?” Miles questioned, his head lifting.
The direct look was the most spunk Jack had seen so far. He shook his head seriously and replied, “I would rather cut out my own heart, Miles. She’s my second daughter, as far as I’m concerned.”
Miles seemed to reach some decision and nodded in return, cradling Susie closer and pressing his lips to the top of her head.
While there was still a great
deal of distance in the dark eyes that looked at Jack, they were more alive. That
gave him the hope that Miles could be brought back all the way. Maybe all they
had to do was show him love and care and the slave would respond. He smiled at
Chase, bringing his slave into a sideways hug to kiss beneath his ear and
murmur, “
Chase flushed, but smiled as well, tucking in along Jack’s side at the praise.
All Jack had to do now was figure out how to officially acquire a slave who didn’t seem to exist.
* * * *
Jogging angrily down the main hiking trail, Stephen ignored the sweat and burning leg muscles. He focused only on putting one foot in front of the other, staring at the pine-needle strewn path that wound around the lake. The sky was overcast, hiding a hot sun that usually beat down mercilessly. Rain had plagued the area since they’d arrived, but Stephen had ignored that, too, to go jogging every morning and afternoon. Ironically, he was in the best shape he’d been in for years since leaving the hospital a month earlier.
Frank accompanied him on the morning jog, but not the afternoon. By the time it grew late enough for Stephen to take the afternoon jog, he was in such a foul mood that not even Frank could handle.
Three months! he thought furiously for the umpteenth time. Three months and still no sign of him. How can there be
absolutely no lead? And why the hell am I sitting here in the middle of
nowhere?
But he knew why; to protect Jack and Miles’ mother, as well as Lisa, by default. All of them were situated at the isolated summer camp in an effort to make sure whoever took Miles didn’t decide to take any of them as well. For all they knew, the psycho who’d taken Miles would have no compunction in taking them to control the slave. And while the government could care less about a missing or kidnapped slave, having the current and future heirs to a noble house in jeopardy was another thing altogether.
Finally stopping at the shores of the quiet lake, Stephen gasped for air and walked out the painful stitch in his side. Wiping the sweat from his face with his t-shirt, Stephen stared at the gentle waves that barely lapped at the shore and knew that Miles would love the view. The ache in his heart hurt far worse than the one in his side and Stephen crouched down, holding his stomach in a vain effort to assuage both.
Alone, he could bare his pain. Alone, he could let himself grieve for the loss of his other half. Alone, Stephen could loose his ironclad control and vent his anger at the man who’d taken Miles and indulge his need for Miles in whatever way felt right. Without really thinking, Stephen kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his clothes. He took a running dive into the cool water and swam beneath it for as far as his lungs allowed.
Bursting to the surface and gasping for air, he screamed wordlessly at the uncaring sky.
* * * *
When they got home the first night, Miles clearly didn’t want to sleep with them and Jack wasn’t inclined to press the issue. The slave didn’t speak often over the next couple of days, though he did respond when asked a direct question. Noting the comfortable way he handled Susie, Jack had left it in Chase’s discretion as to how much caring of the toddler the new slave would have. He wanted to give Miles a reason to live, but not at Chase’s expense.
It seemed strangely anticlimactic to have the new slave in their home. Miles was unobtrusive, even as he made their lives infinitely easier. Chase became fast friends with the dark-haired young man and spent most of his free time with him. Knowing as he did that he was first in Chase’s heart, Jack didn’t protest the sudden lack. They did, after all, sleep together every night and he worked on the laptop in the living room at night while they did various things around the house.
It was on the fourth day after Whittle’s bust that Chloe pulled him aside, her face even more pinched than usual. Chase was home with Miles and Susie, confined to bed thanks to a cold that had abruptly surfaced the day before. A low-grade fever had almost kept Jack at his slave’s side, worry rising that something more serious was wrong. The only reason he’d gone in was because Chase had shooed him away pointing out Miles’ medical background and promising to go to the ER if the fever spiked.
“Jack, you need to see this,” Chloe said, thrusting a flashdrive at him.
Taking it, Jack asked, “What’s on it?”
“Whittle’s personal files. When I saw it was a journal, I put it on the back burner to look at later when there was more time,” she reported. “I just started a real look at the thing this morning and…you just really need to read it. Some of it’s about Miles.”
Jack’s jaw tightened as he understood what Chloe wasn’t saying. She’d found out where the young man had come from on one of the files, probably even what Whittle had done to him while enslaved, and thought Jack needed to read them to properly assess the damage done. “Is he a danger to Chase or Susie?”
Chloe bit her lip before answering, “I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t count on any kind of long-term stability, if I were you.”
Briefly gripping her shoulder, Jack said, “Thanks, Chloe.”
“And Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Go somewhere private.”
Jack nodded his understanding and grabbed his laptop before going outside to check it out. Inserting the flashdrive, he powered up and waited. Accessing it showed a folder labeled ‘Miles’ with word files organized simply by date. Picking the date that Miles had suddenly appeared in Whittle’s hands, Jack opened up the file and started reading.
After over two years, I finally have him back! I can
hardly contain myself, I want so badly to Claim him, but now’s
not the time. There’s too much going on with business to indulge in pleasure,
unfortunately.
That pussy Connor obviously didn’t know how to keep him in
line or Miles would never have run, I don’t care what
the police reports say. Getting him back was so easy I can barely believe it. I
was tempted to Claim him right there in front of Connor, but this has to be
handled delicately. Miles always did respond to the mind games more than
physical pressure. Maybe I should’ve fucked his precious doctor while Miles was
watching instead. I bet Connor has a tight ass. Prick probably never been
fucked in his life. Too late for that now, though. Maybe I’ll pick him up after
he’s out of the hospital just to teach Miles a lesson.
Chaining Miles to the bed is something I’ve wanted to do
since I sent him down to the fields. I always did like him there. I can watch
him in the short times that I can get free from my calls to get this deal in
place. Another couple of days and I can finally catch a break and Claim him.
Start teaching him his place again.
I’m really looking forward to that.
Jack closed the file, disgusted but not surprised. He opened the next file dated two days later and started reading again.
I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried. I know now
that the Gods favor me above many, gifting me with Connor’s death like that. Of
course I’d been keeping an eye on the man’s condition, if only to taunt Miles
with it when I finally had time. Opening the paper this morning to find the
article about his death was just perfect.
When I showed Miles, I got the breakthrough that I’d been
looking for since his purchase. He is now the perfect slave. Biddable.
Beautiful. Obedient. Graceful. Willing. Claiming him as
he lay absolutely still beneath me was incredible. Knowing that he accepted me,
finally, as his true Master got me off faster than anything has in a
damn long time. So I Claimed him twice last night and
again this morning. He was so relaxed that I barely hurt him, which leads my
thoughts down all kinds of interesting paths.
This morning after I Claimed him,
I brought him downstairs and was again shown just how well I am favored by the
Gods. Getting head from Miles before this was always a fight and, while that’s
fun on its own, taking his throat without any resistance at the dinner table
literally blew my mind.
The rest of the day I played with him, doing everything
I’d wanted to do since those do-gooders at NIH took my slaves from me. I don’t
even have to threaten him to get him to do anything. I enjoy a good fight now
and again, but this is much, much better. I’m going to go slow and savor Miles.
I know that eventually, I’ll find something he won’t want to do, but right now
I can’t think of what that might be. Not from his current reactions, anyhow.
Maybe I’ll reenact his first public Claiming
some time in the near future. That definitely got a rise out of him last time.
For now, though, I’m just going to play and have fun with him. Keep him to
myself. He is the slave I’ve always wanted now.
Jack forced himself to take a breath and keep calm as he closed the file. It took a real effort to open up another entry to read. He picked the last one.
Jack’s interest in Miles has brought something up that
I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve had him to myself for a few months
now and it’s been just perfect. I think now it’s time to test just how good a
slave Miles has become. This weekend, I’m going to see how he reacts to being
given out at the party. It’ll be hot to see him fucked by only the people I
choose. I could even do that reenactment of his first Claiming that’s been on
my mind since I got him back.
The boring dinner party is suddenly looking a lot more
fun. Time to make some plans.
Jack closed the file before he finished. Even though he knew that he had to continue reading to see exactly what the history between Whittle and Miles was, for the moment he closed the laptop and set it aside. Whoever this doctor was, he’d obviously been Miles’ life and when he’d been killed, the life had also gone right out of the slave. It wouldn’t be too hard to find out more about a Connor who’d worked for NIH and was now dead. Jack would do so just as soon as he finished reading through the journal.
Jack hated very few people. He dealt with so many that were soulless and evil in the course of his job that hatred was reserved for those who personally wronged him or his family. Nina. He would never regret killing the woman who’d murdered his wife in cold blood. Rabens for forcing events so that Jack had to amputate Chase’s hand. Ramon Salazar for a multitude of reasons, betrayal not the least of them.
Shaking off the anger, he took a breath and mentally put Jonathan Whittle on his list of people to whom he could dispense justice.
* * * *
Chase tensed when Jack’s hands silently gripped his shoulders from behind, but immediately relaxed on recognition. He looked up and frowned at seeing the closed-off expression on his Master’s face. Standing, Chase opened his mouth to ask what was going on when it was taken in a slow, deep, inexorable kiss. He immediately opened to it, since Jack didn’t often seek comfort but knowing that this was exactly what he needed. Chase wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist, sliding his tongue into the other man’s mouth in a languid tangle.
Jack pushed him up against the desk and he hopped up willingly, opening his legs for his Master to settle between them. The kiss grew more intense, more demanding, Jack’s mouth devouring his in hungry kisses. He could only gasp for breaths here and there, allowed them when Jack wanted him to breathe. They’d been through so much together that Chase’s trust in his Master was absolute and he would do anything for Jack. Getting lightheaded from his kisses barely even registered. It certainly wasn’t a hardship.
Pulling back at last, Jack panted harshly for his own air and rested his forehead against Chase’s. His hand stroked Chase’s cock through his pants and he said, “I need you.”
Chase shivered at the rough question and stimulation, nodding at the request. “Come to bed with me, Jack.”
Jack stepped back, but took Chase’s hand to keep the connection as they hurried to the bedroom.
* * * *
Miles heard the front door open as he was busy with Susie in her room. The blue-eyed girl had fast become the center of his world and she appeared to adore him as well. Having quickly assimilated Jack’s odd working hours, he didn’t think anything of the man being home in the middle of the day. Chase’s cold had abated, the fever dying off altogether shortly after Jack had left, seemingly of the 24 hour variety. The other slave was playing around on the computer in the other room, still taking it easy as Miles finished putting Susie down for her nap. Settling her in the crib for her nap, he gently rubbed her back until the cranky toddler finally drifted into sleep.
Walking down the short hall to the living room where he’d left Chase, he was surprised to find the room empty. Shrugging, he walked to the kitchen and poured himself some juice, extremely grateful that he no longer had to wait for someone to feed him. Jack and Chase had both stated flat out in the beginning that they had other things to do and he was to nourish himself and Susie whenever needed.
A moan caught his attention, even as quickly stifled as it was. Miles stopped short on his walk back to the living room, frozen to the spot. For a few agonized seconds, he literally couldn’t think of what to do. He knew what was happening in the bedroom, it was impossible not to know, but he’d somehow thought that since Chase and Jack hadn’t done anything since he’d joined them, that they wouldn’t.
Stupid! he thought viciously. Jack’s a Master, of course he’s
going to use Chase for sex!
Miles couldn’t help it. Drawn by morbid curiosity, he walked over to the master bedroom and paused there with his hand on the doorknob. This close he could hear the grunts and quickly broken off groans. It sounded painful, not pleasurable, and his hand spasmed on the metal knob with indecision. He should just walk away and pretend he’d never noticed. The house was big enough not to have heard anything, especially if he was on the other side in Susie’s room when they finished.
His hand twisted, though, and slowly pushed the door open. What he saw on the bed shocked him anew and Miles couldn’t stop the strangled noise from escaping, though the two men didn’t even hear it, lost in their own world as they were. Jack lay flat on his stomach on the bed, legs spread as Chase humped slowly into his Master’s ass in hard movement. His long, lean body easily covered Jack’s as he moved in and out of Jack’s hole, panting open-mouthed in pleasure, eyes closed as he took the other man.
“Oh God, Chase, harder, please, harder!” Jack groaned quietly, then pushed his face into the pillow, back arching up to meet Chase’s chest.
Chase bit lightly at Jack’s shoulderblade and then grinned as he teased, “We go as fast as you need, remember? And right now, you need this to go on and on so bad that I can’t believe I didn’t notice it earlier. Just lie there and take it, Master, lie there and feel my cock in you.”
Jack shuddered visibly, jerking back on the shaft impaling him hard enough to provoke a moan from them both.
Miles fled, mind split by the unbelievable sight he’d just witnessed.
* * * *
Sore, but completely relaxed, Jack woke slowly. Chase was still draped over him from behind, though his cock had slid out sometime during their short nap, face pressed to Jack’s shoulder. Jack yawned and stretched before rolling out from under his lover, tugging the younger man into his arms and kissing the top of his head. “Thanks, baby, I needed that.”
Chase chuckled and squirmed closer, hitching a leg over Jack’s hip as he replied, “Not a hardship, Master, believe me. Mind telling me what brought it on?”
Jack sighed, good mood evaporating as he remembered Whittle’s journal. Squeezing Chase a little, he said, “I was reading Whittle’s personal journal which had entries about Miles. I’ll tell you this. I’m going to make sure that filth faces a long torture before he’s allowed death for what he did to Miles.”
Chase’s arm tightened around Jack’s waist and he asked, “Any clues to where Miles came from?”
“Some NIH doctor,” Jack told him. “Should be easy to find out what happened, given it’s a government organization. Not that it really matters.”
Frowning, Chase looked up at him and said, “Why not? We have to give him back if he was stolen, which I assume he was.”
“He’s dead, according to the journals.”
“Damn. That could be why Miles is so withdrawn.”
Jack nodded. “I’m sure it is.”
“So what do we do?” Chase questioned.
Brushing his hand over short, soft hair, Jack answered, “What we’ve been doing. Give him something to live for and hope for the best.”
Chase snorted. “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”
Jack grinned, slapping him lightly on the ass and reminding, “We’ve had worse.”
“True,” Chase agreed, nuzzling at Jack’s throat. “Master?”
Distracted by the pleasant sensations of his slave’s tongue, Jack mumbled, “Yeah?”
“The door’s open.”
It took a few seconds for him to realize what that meant. When it finally penetrated, Jack groaned and said, “I’ll go do damage control.”
But Chase shook his head and countered, “Let me?”
Jack nodded and released him with a sigh. Chase kissed him lightly on the mouth before rolling out of bed. Jack watched as the slave pulled on a pair of jeans and grabbed a t-shirt as he headed out of the room. He took a few seconds to relax in the bed, but knew he wasn’t going to be able to get any more sleep. Sighing, he climbed out of bed and went to take a shower.
* * * *
“Miles?”
Miles didn’t look up at Chase’s hesitant call of his name. Instead, he kept his eyes on his toes as he hugged his legs against his chest. The whole thing was too surreal to even concede as reality, but he didn’t have a choice. He’d actually seen Chase fucking Jack, as mind-blowing as that was.
“Miles, I know you saw what Jack and I were doing,” Chase continued, crouching down beside him. “Are you okay?”
Finally meeting Chase’s blue eyes, Miles answered, “I’m fine. I’m just…confused, I guess. I mean, he’s your Master. How could he let you fuck him like that?”
Chase grimaced and said, “As corny as it sounds, it wasn’t just fucking, Miles. I love Jack and I’ll do anything for him. Every now and again, he needs to not be in charge and that’s when I pick up the slack. We’ve been partners for a few years now, so we know what it takes to keep each other balanced.”
Miles frowned. “Partners?”
Chase nodded, explaining, “I’m a voluntary slave. I wasn’t to begin with, but after Jack bought me, we just…we clicked, you know? CTU is its own little world, so getting my convict slave status revoked wasn’t all that hard to do. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say that I was collateral damage in an IA investigation. I don’t know how familiar you are with cops becoming convict slaves, but it’s often better to just suicide and spare yourself the pain and suffering. I couldn’t do that, though, so I had a long month in the pens before Jack finally bought me. From there, well, life just made sense. We worked so well together that he got me freed and then I dedicated myself to Jack and whatever he needed. That includes nailing him to the mattress now and again.”
Miles returned the grin with a brief smile of his own. “So, he likes it when you do that?”
“Oh, yeah,” Chase confirmed, smirking. The amusement faded as he asked, “I guess you’ve never topped anyone?”
Miles flushed at the blunt question and he looked back down at his toes as he answered, “Never. I, well, I was a convict slave too, I guess you could call me collateral damage. I had a run of bad and worse masters and then, well, Stephen bought me. Saved me, really. He saved my life. It took a long time, but I finally managed to learn to trust him. We had a good life together. He wanted me to be a doctor because I wanted it, you know? I hadn’t had that since I was free. Not even, since my, my father and I didn’t agree on a lot of things. But Stephen, he never, he’s not the kind of man to, ah, let anyone top him. Not that it mattered, because I absolutely loved everything he did to me. He was so gentle, so patient and loving.”
“And then Whittle kidnapped you,” Chase prompted, when Miles went silent.
Sighing, Miles nodded. “It’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah. And now, now Stephen’s dead and it’s all my fault and I just want to die so I can be with him. I was all set to do it, Jack promised I could, but now I can’t.”
He wiped angrily at the tears that spilled without him wanting them to, but they just kept coming. The sick ache in his gut threatened to overwhelm him and Miles hugged his legs tighter. He was surprised when Chase sat beside him and pulled him in for a hug. The unexpected comfort unhinged him further and the solitary tears exploded into sobs and he clung to the other slave. Strong arms wrapped around him from the other side and Miles turned to Jack instinctively, needing the comfort and strength that he’d always gotten from Stephen.
Jack pulled Miles onto his lap and rocked him gently, murmuring soothing words in a low, rough voice. The world fell away as his body vented the pain he’d buried for so long, his fingers digging into the other man’s back as he shook with emotion. Miles was barely conscious of when the crying stopped and only vaguely aware when Jack stood, holding him in his arms and walking to the bedroom.
He was lowered onto a bed, but Miles refused to let Jack go, needing one constant thing to hold on to. Jack climbed into the bed with him and Miles immediately curled up against him. Chase spooned up against him from behind and, cocooned in their safe embrace, Miles finally passed out.
* * * *
Staring at the lake, Stephen skipped a rock over the small waves and watched it skitter over the water.
“Jack’s getting worried about you,” Frank told him from behind.
Stephen faced the other man and offered a brief smile. “I’m just thinking.”
Frank grinned in return and teased, “Thought I smelled wood burning.”
Huffing in amusement, Stephen said, “Thanks. I’ve made a decision.”
“Stephen, it’s too soon.”
“We’re going back.”
“Damn it, this isn’t a game!” Frank exploded. “This man almost killed you! He would have, if those doctors hadn’t been so damn good!”
Stephen shrugged. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going back to public life. I hope he does come after me, Frank. Because if he does, I’m going to squeeze the life out of him with my bare hands.”
Frank sighed and asked, “I don’t suppose I could at least convince you to hire some bodyguards.”
“For Lisa and Jack’s house, absolutely,” Stephen agreed easily.
Shaking his head, Frank observed, “You are stone crazy, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Only you.”
“Yeah, right.”
Stephen smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile. He was just going through the motions, as he had been since Miles had been kidnapped the first time. “Come on, partner. Let’s pack up and go home.”
Frank grimaced, but didn’t make any more comments or arguments as he headed back to the cabin.
After taking a last look at the peaceful waters of the lake, Stephen turned and followed. It was time to get on with the business of living. There was still a job to be done, and Stephen intended to do it.