At His Throat, a Promise (61 page)

Ellis threw himself at William, knocking the taller, broader man back a few steps. “Oh, thank you,” he said, not sure if his gratitude was for William or something even larger, even more profound.

“Come on.” William grabbed Ellis"s hand and took him down the stairs. He got into the driver"s side of the car—this was too urgent to call on Previs.

The energy between them was palpable, but there was no talking. Ellis wanted to bounce, he wanted to cheer, he wanted to
brag
—he had done this! Thanks to him, Harte would come home and everything would be right again. He felt okay with taking real pride in that. He"d never seen himself as the proactive type—not that he"d been content letting other people fight his battles. He"d just been comfortable on the sidelines—he"d never had anything 528

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really worth fighting for. Worth sacrificing himself for.

Still, something was plaguing him.

“Master… what happens if Develyn gets off? I mean, it"s a possibility.” Despite Newcastle"s assertion to the contrary, Ellis wasn"t willing to believe that the case was as good as won. “What happens if Harte has to go back?”

William had that smile again. It was warm like the sun against Ellis"s skin, and he basked in it like a kitten—internally, of course.

“He won"t ever be going back. This isn"t just temporary custody due to an absent master.” His excitement was evident in the way his hands twisted on the steering wheel. “When Develyn was arrested, any charges he"d
filed
against other masters were overturned. Which means that there was no longer any evidence that Harte and I had an inappropriate relationship.” He paused.

“Well, there were other witnesses, but they withdrew their statements once Develyn"s grudge against me became public knowledge.”

Ellis hated the fact that slaves, that
Gabriel
, had died while under the
care
of that man. Yet nothing had been done until he"d actually gone against the instructions of another master. Develyn had punished one girl to the point where she"d died from exposure to the elements, and he"d driven Gabriel to take his own life, yet
nothing
had happened. The wheels of justice, however, spun infinitely faster when another master was involved.

Slaves were nothing.

That had to change.

“So Harte"s really ours—yours again. He can"t be taken away, no matter what.” Ellis closed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest against the seat. Was this how Harte had felt when he and William had come to Fen"s to take him home after his brief stint in the 529

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Facility?

William"s effervescent demeanour dimmed a little. “As long as I remember my place as his master.”

Ellis didn"t need clarification for that comment. He knew exactly what William meant. As long as he didn"t tell Harte he loved him, there would be no complaints against their relationship.

As long as their connection was no more than servant and master, student and mentor, Harte would stay.

It was a sacrifice for all of them. It would be worth it. They were only words, anyway. Ellis looked out the window. Only words.

The Facility was much less intimidating when he wasn"t being dumped from the back of a windowless van. He had righteousness on his side. He belonged to someone now. He wasn"t just a stray, a reject, a victim.

Before William could even ask if Ellis wanted to come, Ellis opened his door and got out. The gravel was rough enough that he could feel the shape of it beneath his sandaled feet. A breeze ruffled the hem of his shift, blanketing it against his thighs.

They walked hand in hand toward the huge prison-like structure. Ellis eyed the professional building off to the side. No doubt Veerson was within, gleefully figuring out how to make other slaves" lives miserable.

In the entrance to the building where the slaves were kept, Ellis and William both had to sign in. The guard made a fuss about whether Ellis should be allowed in since he wasn"t on the appointment form, but William slipped him a few bills and the man turned a blind eye.

Ellis quirked an eyebrow at his master, who winked in return.

William was certainly in a good mood if he was willing to break 530

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

the law by bribing someone just so Ellis could be with him to get Harte.

Instead of being taken to a private room like Ellis had expected—after all, that was what had happened when Fen had come to get him and Caleb—they were ushered into the common area where they got their first glimpse of Harte.

Unaware that he was being observed, Harte laughed with another slave. To anyone who"d just met Harte, the laugh was bubbly and genuine, but Ellis could see that Harte was troubled and afraid. There were dark circles under his eyes and he held himself a little stiffly. Ellis hoped he hadn"t been injured, or there would be hell to pay from William.

The guard that had shown them in approached Harte and touched him on the shoulder. Harte looked up, listening for a moment. Then his eyes searched out and found Ellis and William.

The rest of world continued to breathe and live and move, but for the three of them, there was only beautiful still.

Then Harte leapt to his feet and closed the distance between them in long, impatient strides. The last few steps were a run. It was lucky Ellis and William had been standing so close together, because Harte jumped at them both.

Harte was talking—too quickly to be understood by mere humans—but Ellis only felt the warmth, the realness of him in his arms.

William silenced Harte with a hard kiss, though Harte kept talking through the first few seconds. Then he gave himself over, tension spilling from him like he"d been punctured. Though their mouths were sealed together, Ellis was included in the embrace, and he chuckled when Harte tugged at his sheath, pulling Ellis closer and closer until he was part of the kiss as well.

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“I can"t believe you"re here,” Harte whispered. He allowed himself to be pulled along to the front desk, tripping once because he wouldn"t take his eyes off William"s face.

“It"s not me you have to thank,” William said with a nod to Ellis. He had them wait while he filled out the proper paperwork at the front desk—there would be more paperwork waiting for William at home, but Ellis hoped he"d put it off just a while.

“What did you do?” Harte asked. His tone wasn"t accusatory in the least, but Ellis blushed anyway.

How was it that he"d been able to keep himself together in front of William but with a few words from Harte he was ready to spill his guts?

“It wasn"t me. Develyn broke the law when I came to see you.

Now he"s finally being punished.”

Harte"s expression darkened, and Ellis could sense he was thinking of Gabriel.

“Are you hurt at all?” Ellis asked, wanting to get Harte"s mind back to pleasant things. He"d been through enough. They"d been unable to save Gabriel, but Harte… Harte was theirs again.

“No.” Harte ran his hands down the front of his Facility-grey shift as if to show Ellis. “They didn"t touch me.”

“Come,” William said, having finished. He held the door open and they spilled outside.

Harte turned his face up to the sky as if he"d been deprived.

Maybe he had. Ellis wondered if they"d ever really know the whole story. Ellis didn"t know if he could stand it. They"d been through so much—was it really unreasonable to ask that they just be left alone until their servitude was over?

William opened the back door of the car for them and they climbed in together. Harte was quiet for most of the drive, an 532

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

indication of how much he"d changed. Usually a car ride meant they were treated to near-incessant chatter, but Harte fixed his eyes on the passing scenery and responded to William"s questions with monosyllabic answers. He seemed content, but not excited. Ellis tried not to be disappointed—he remembered how much he"d pulled away after his time with Jude.

Ellis reached over and grabbed Harte"s hand. It was as smooth as ever, as tan as it had been when he"d left. Had Ellis expected some drastic change? A part of him believed so. No one could spend time with a person like Develyn and remain unchanged.

Yet… Harte had been through so much and came out unscathed.

Or… not. How much of Harte"s personality was an adaptation technique? How much of his sweet submission was meant to make himself indispensible to his master? Ellis didn"t
think
Harte was insincere, but Ellis"s recent revelations on how much he, himself, kept private made him realise Harte couldn"t have gone through all he had without suffering inside.

That was Ellis"s job, then. He looked at Harte and smiled.

Harte returned it—it was real. Harte was a lot of things but he wasn"t an actor. He was happy; he was grateful. It was possible to be happy and sad at the same time. He was wounded. And Ellis would take care of him. His role in this strange relationship was becoming cemented. He wasn"t an ellipsis. It wasn"t
William and
Harte… and Ellis.
He was a hyphen. They all were.

It was
William-Ellis-Harte
. Not in that order. Not in any order.

As long as Ellis could make Harte happy again, they"d all be happy.

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It turned out Ellis had good reason to put his trust in Newcastle.

The man regularly called and filled William in on what was happening with the case. He spoke in court on Ellis"s behalf, and the recording of their interview was played for the judge to hear.

The decision was made swiftly and the whole thing was over in a matter of weeks.

Once Develyn"s other slaves had been assured that they"d been permanently removed from his household, they became less close-mouthed about the abuses their master had put them through.

Although Develyn was sentenced to only a year in a minimum-security prison—accommodations more comfortable than the Facility—he would never be able to own another slave, and he"d 534

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

lost his licence to practise law.

It was enough. It had to be. Gabriel would have been happy with the result, Ellis knew. The important thing was that no one would ever be hurt by Develyn like he"d been.

After Harte had been told the verdict, he"d celebrated with William and Ellis for a little while, drinking the screwdriver William put in front of him as Ellis sipped his own gin and tonic.

The alcohol was to suppose to encourage brighter spirits, but it only served to make Harte maudlin. Once he"d finished the drink, he"d asked to be excused, leaving William and Ellis in the sitting room staring after him.

“I don"t know what to do to make him hurt less,” William said when they"d heard Harte"s door shut.

“There isn"t anything you can do, Master.” Ellis remembered his own return after Jude had died. Given sudden freedom, a bird couldn"t know whether to fly or stay in the cage in case it was a trick. Ellis suspected that once Develyn was behind bars, Harte would allow himself to relax again, to accept the solace that William offered. “He just needs time.”

“Ellis… ”

Hearing the serious tone of his master"s voice, Ellis angled his body toward him on the sofa. Their thighs were touching and Ellis didn"t want to lose that closeness, but he had the feeling William wanted to see his face. He waited expectantly.

“What is it like? Being a slave.” William"s hand came down on Ellis"s knee as if he was afraid Ellis would bolt. The question didn"t bother him, though. Not at all. He thought it was good that William was asking; it might help him better understand what Harte was going through.

“More than anything, it"s scary. You never know what to 535

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

expect or what"s going to happen. You want… ” Ellis took a deep breath. This wasn"t the time for impersonal detachment. William wouldn"t have asked if he didn"t want to know what it was like for
him
. “I want to know if I"m good or not. If I"m doing something right or wrong. I want to know what I can do better. I want to know what it all
means
. Being a slave means you have no control.” William laughed, and Ellis was ready to give him a glare before he realised it was a self-deprecating sound.

“It"s just that you… you and Harte both
do
have so much control—over me. I"m supposed to be the master, but I feel like I belong on
my
knees before you both. The way you give yourselves over… it"s such a gift. I don"t feel like I"ve earned it.” Ellis wasn"t sure what to say. Of course he knew they—Harte, especially—held a measure of power over the master because he,
yes
, loved them. But that wasn"t normal. That was just
them
.

“When you"re a slave… ” Ellis put his hand over William"s on his knee. Their fingers threaded together. “It"s like you"re not allowed to want. It"s a weakness. It"s forbidden. But you can"t help it—everyone wants. And I… I want
so much
.” Ellis felt raw, like his skin had been sanded down and William"s breath was salt. He wanted to help William understand, but the fact was that he"d never been a slave and never would be. He could empathise, maybe, but he"d never really get it.

“I want you to be able to want, Ellis. Tell me what you want.

Tell me.”

Ellis smiled. It was a sweet offer from a man who, they both knew, would do anything in his power to provide whatever Ellis said.

There was something Ellis wanted. But it was abstract and scary and yes, he belonged
now
, but where would he be when he 536

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

was free? William wanted him now, loved him now, but what happened after? It was easier to just… not think about it.

“I"m happy, Master,” he said, and it wasn"t a lie. He was happier than he"d ever expected to be, happier than he"d hoped for in his bleakest moments with Jude.