At His Throat, a Promise (60 page)

Except for the noisy kisses, there was no sound in the car.

When William finally pulled away—they were approaching the police station—there was a knowing look in his eyes. Ellis did nothing to dispel it.

Whatever Harte and William had done to Jude to save Ellis, they"d never mentioned it beyond William"s wordless confirmation. Now it was Ellis"s turn to carry such a secret.

William could be
knowing
all he wanted, but Ellis would never, ever reveal what he"d done.

Unbidden, Harte"s words of so long ago—only the second day they"d known each other, Ellis was certain—came back to him.
I
don’t lie to him, and I don’t keep secrets from him.

Ellis laughed a little to himself. He wasn"t Harte. His submission wasn"t perfect, wasn"t limitless, wasn"t unconditional.

He was awkward and uncertain and scared a lot of the time. He was cynical and jaded and he"d wanted
so badly
for
so long
just to
belong.
Now that he"d found his place between the two men he loved the most, he realised the truth of what he"d tried to tell himself all along.

He
wasn’t
Harte—and that was all right. Which was why he
would
lie to William and why he
would
keep this secret. Because he was Ellis… and he was perfect the way he was.

* * *

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Richard Develyn had a lot of enemies.

When William had escorted Ellis, flanked by Previs, into the police station, the first thing they"d done was take Ellis into a private examination room and swab him for DNA evidence. There was a lot of that. Ellis was grateful when they were done because it meant he could use the washroom and clean off all remains of Develyn. Soon enough, Ellis thought as he dried himself with rough, generic toilet paper, Harte would be able to do the same.

After that, Ellis was seated, alone, in an interrogation room.

The officer in charge of the case, a burly man named Newcastle who was twice Ellis"s breadth but had warm blue eyes to offset his intimidating physique, had told William he wouldn"t be allowed to act as Ellis"s lawyer—he also wouldn"t be able to be with Ellis while he made his statement.

Making his statement was easy and painless, though the way Newcastle looked anywhere but at Ellis when he recounted the more explicit details about being used was a little annoying.

“And you"re certain you witnessed him reading the letter from William Goddard stating that he was in no way permitted to make use of your… person.”

“I knelt on the floor and watched him, sir.” Newcastle startled a little at the honorific, and Ellis had to admit it tasted a little strange in his mouth as well. It didn"t have the import it had when he"d attributed it to William.

“And then he proceeded to… have anal intercourse with you.”

“That"s right.”

“Did you tell him to stop?”

Ellis lifted an eyebrow. “That isn"t my place, sir.”

“Not your place… ?” Newcastle looked like he wanted to object, but then he just sighed and nodded. He was obviously one 521

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

of the types who didn"t believe in slavery or just plain didn"t like or didn"t understand it.

No matter. Ellis"s reason for keeping mum was completely understandable and well within the limits of plausibility. A slave speaking out against a master would have been much less believable.

“Did he say or do anything that led you to believe he might have a personal or professional grudge against your master?” There were a hundred reasons, going back to long before Ellis"s time with William, that the two lawyers hated each other. It was much like the relationship William had had with Jude Mitchell. As a defence attorney, Develyn had come against William a number of times in court, and their enmity had been born of years of professional posturing and wins and losses, some very public, many very important.

Then there was Gabriel.

“He told me to tell Master that Harte, my Master"s former slave and Develyn"s current one… that Harte and I fucked the same way, like we"d never been properly fu—used. He was obviously trying to get me to carry the insult to my master to cause problems.” Newcastle sat back in his chair. Ellis eyed the massive folder sitting in front of him.
Richard Develyn
was written across the tab in ballpoint pen, and there were enough documents within to strain the capacity of the folder. Develyn was obviously not a stranger to law enforcement.

After a few more precursory questions, such as the exact details of the delivery of the letter and a more in-depth description of Ellis"s
use
that made Newcastle shudder and blush, the huge police officer turned off the recording device and patted Ellis on his hand.

Ellis hadn"t realised how tightly he"d been wound and let out a 522

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

huge sigh of relief.

“What will happen to Develyn"s slaves, sir?” Ellis asked in a quiet voice. He knew Newcastle liked him and not in a way Ellis was used to—there was a paternal air to the way he"d used euphemistic language and gentle encouragements during Ellis"s statement. Ellis knew he would be safe to ask what he"d been waiting hours to know.

“Right now, there is a team of Facility guards on their way to the Develyn household.” Newcastle"s low tone made Ellis believe this wasn"t information he was supposed to be privy to. “If the judge decides there"s enough evidence against him to hold him until trial, the slaves will be returned to family, if they have any, or the Facility. Between you and me, kid, I think the slippery bastard"s finally going down.” He winked at Ellis, who grinned.

William would save Harte from the Facility just like he had before. Ellis wouldn"t let himself think of what might happen in the interim—they"d just have to work fast to make sure no harm came to Harte.

Newcastle rose and Ellis took his lead. As they walked back to where William was still—Ellis hoped—waiting, he took the chance and asked one more question.

“What happens next? Will I have to testify?” Ellis"s knowledge of procedure was only foundational. He wasn"t sure of the ins and outs of a slave having to state a case in court. There was precedent, but that was mostly in cases of long-term abuse or negligence or death of a fellow slave or the master.

“Unlikely,” Newcastle said in that fatherly tone. He put a meaty hand on Ellis"s arm, and Ellis allowed himself to be comforted by it. It had been a long time since an authority figure had been good to him. “What"s going to happen is Develyn will be 523

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

brought in. We"ll test the evidence on the letter as well as what was taken from your… from you. If the facts line up, Develyn"ll go before a judge. If he pleads guilty, he"ll be sentenced immediately and he won"t be let out for a very long time. If he pleads not guilty”—which Ellis was sure he would—“the judge will weigh all the evidence, including past offences, and make a decision.” Newcastle squeezed his arm and let Ellis go. “I"ll tell you, though—I"ve seen a lot of these cases. So-called
Masters
thinking the law doesn"t apply to them.” He scoffed, seeming uncaring that Ellis actually liked his master. “The judge has no patience for entitlement, especially with repeat offenders.” The waiting room was around the corner and Ellis was eager to return to William, but Newcastle stopped him. “The only way you"ll need to testify is if they find a problem with any of the evidence or if the story doesn"t hold up.” A charged current seemed to run between the two, and Ellis"s heart sank as he began to suspect Newcastle knew of his deception.

Then Newcastle smiled at him, and Ellis realised that even if he
did
know, he wasn"t going to say anything. He wanted Develyn put away, too. Maybe the judge did, also. Ellis could hope.

“Even without the letter—hell, even without the co—the bodily fluids, I have good reason to think Develyn"s run of luck with the law is over.”

On impulse, Ellis hugged the kind officer. His arms barely wrapped all the way around him, and Newcastle seemed awkward as he patted Ellis on the back, but when he pulled out of the embrace, Newcastle"s eyes were a little shiny. Ellis pretended not to notice.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No need, no need.” Newcastle cleared his throat and then 524

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

walked into the waiting room with Ellis in tow.

William rose as soon as Ellis came into view. “Is everything all right?” He looked between Ellis and Newcastle before settling on Ellis, seeming to think he could see right into his slave"s heart just by wanting to badly enough.

“Everything"s in order, Mr. Goddard. Ellis here gave his statement and you"re free to take him home. We"ll surely be in touch, but I feel confident saying it"ll be good news.” William didn"t look as certain, but more than anything, he looked tired. He took Ellis to the parked car that Previs had returned to, and the three sat waiting until they saw two armed officers pulling in Richard Develyn through the front doors of the station.

Only then did William give the order to return home.

* * *

Ellis wasn"t a lawyer yet. Not even close. But he"d learned a
lot
, and he knew how lawyers were always trying to trip people up.

The key was to remain calm. Don"t get cocky. Don"t change the story. Don"t add any new details and don"t forget any old ones.

Keep eye contact. Don"t twitch, fidget, and especially don"t touch your face. Get exasperated but don"t act like you"re being persecuted.

So he knew all the tricks. William knew he knew them. They were at a standoff of stubbornness, and Ellis was reminded of the agonising week he"d gone without speaking to anyone because of 525

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

that stubbornness. He wasn"t going to give in. Even if he fucked up the story, he wouldn"t admit it. He refused to make William an accomplice, because if they did have to testify, William could lose his licence to practise if he committed perjury.

Ellis had nothing to lose. So he lied. Maybe when it was all said and done he"d tell the whole story, but he doubted it.

“Did Develyn take the letter from you or did you hand it to him?”

The best part about the story was that it wasn"t really lying. All that he said had happened really had. “He grabbed it.” No more information than absolutely necessary.

He understood William wanting to know everything. Obviously William suspected him pretty strongly if he was making Ellis jump through enough hoops that his belly hair was getting singed.

But some things… like whatever William had done to Jude that had caused him to up and die the very next day… didn"t warrant talking about. It was done.

Harte was as good as theirs.

“Why was the letter sealed with my house signet?” Ellis opened his mouth to give a rote response but realised he didn"t have one. He had to give it to William—he was a brilliant lawyer. “I was sure you"d have wanted it sealed. I thought you just forgot. Because you were… so upset over Harte.” Maybe it was harsh, to bring up William"s pain over losing Harte like that, but it worked. William seemed to realise that Ellis was willing to strike pretty low in order to keep the story to himself.

His heart trussed up a little when he heard William"s weary,

“Ellis… ”

They were sitting on William"s bed, not touching, and Ellis took advantage of how very tired William seemed to be. He pushed 526

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

his master down onto his back and straddled him. William"s boxer shorts were soft against Ellis"s bare groin—the shift rode up around his thighs, and he knew William loved the long expanses of his legs.

He was using his entire bag of tricks that night just to keep William from getting too involved in his deception.

“Let me make you feel better,” he whispered, leaning in to nuzzle William"s bristly cheek and neck.

They hadn"t spoken about Harte. Ellis had told William, in the car, about what Newcastle had said. William hadn"t responded, but Ellis knew that didn"t mean he hadn"t heard. He had. He was just as scared as Ellis about losing the one they both loved.

After a few leisurely kisses, Ellis realised it wasn"t going to happen for them that night. William wasn"t getting aroused from Ellis"s grinding and Ellis"s mind kept drifting to Harte, alone and scared in the Facility at that very moment. His body was up for action but his heart refused to join in.

He slowed the kisses to pecks and then to bare brushes of his lips against William"s. He tucked his face into William"s shoulder, lying on top of his master, bracketing him with his limbs.

Sleep took him to the tune of William"s hand running up and down the long length of his back. Even through the sheath, the warmth was soothing.

He couldn"t hide his smile, even as he pretended to be asleep, when William whispered that he loved him. Ellis stayed silent—

not because he didn"t return the feeling, but because he did.

Because the next time he said it, it would be to both Harte
and
William—and he expected to hear it back from each.

* * *

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

William"s voice drew Ellis out of the first comfortable sleep he"d had since Harte had been taken away. A part of him hated himself for sleeping so well when Harte was… not there. He knew, though, that the procedure of getting him back had begun while Ellis had been giving his statement to Newcastle. William had been on the phone until late at night trying to get emergency custody of Harte.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

“"m awake.” Ellis opened his eyes. William blocked out the rest of the world quite nicely.

“Time to go.”

“Go where?” He shook himself alert and sat up, slipping from the bed and into his sheath. He ran his fingers through his hair in lieu of brushing it.

“We"re going to get him back, of course.” William"s smile, so, so rare, was brilliant.