Succession (23 page)

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Authors: Alicia Cameron

BOOK: Succession
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“So you did it on his orders,” Edson dismisses.

“But what happens when he can’t explain the data as well as I can?” Sascha continues.

Edson frowns at Cash. “If you can’t wrap your head around the data analysis that your Demoted slave conducted, I made quite a mistake in letting you hire me, and someone made an even bigger mistake in recommending I consider your case.”

“I’ll learn it all,” Cash says quickly. “In detail, in plenty of time before the trial.”

Satisfied, Edson continues. “I wouldn’t be so worried about Ms. Miller. She might just be losing some of her special privileges once this data goes public.”

“She’ll take the blame for this,” Sascha realizes.

“She deserves to,” Cash reminds him.

“Don’t let your feelings get in the way of this case,” Edson says. “The world is ready for a new system. You can start that system with your work in the re-education centers. It’s nothing personal, at least as far as anyone else is ever going to know. You sympathize with Ms. Miller, respect the foundation she has established in the field, and you wish her the best. For all you know, you might work with her in the future. She is everything that our current system values.”

Cash and Sascha both nod. I wonder what this lawyer isn’t telling us. She’s the trusted advisor and legal representative of the Argova family. She’s very well-connected, and from the few interactions I’ve witnessed, she knows how to put these connections to use. If the Argova family trusts her, she represents their interests. She seems quite certain that Cash is going to come out of this clean and happy. In that past, I’ve found that to mean that whoever is doing the talking knows far more than they’re willing to admit. The question is whether she’s being kept in the dark by the Argova family, or whether she’s keeping Cash in the dark for the Argova family.

“Your performance at the talk show went well,” Edson tells them. “I’m not so sure I like the way it ended, but more groups have taken interest in your case as a result. That can be good or bad, so you need to keep building up your image. More appearances, more interviews. You have to be a real person for this work. Talk about how scared you were, how much more you have to contribute—all that sort of thing. Ms. Miller has a number of supporters, but she’s reached celebrity status. You’re the everyday citizen. Buy your own groceries, pet your slave in public and look embarrassed. You’ve spent a long time looking perfect and staying out of the spotlight; now you need to do the exact opposite. You want people to like you.”

I resist laughing. Since I’ve gotten to know Cash, it isn’t that he’s unlikeable, he’s just distant. For anyone else, the data, formal social interaction, and the danger would be the challenges. For my master, it’s the informal parts he struggles with. He and Sascha both listen carefully, like they can study how to casually interact.

“You’ll be attending more events, and closer to your trial date, you’ll be holding a sponsorship rally,” Edson explains. “You can strengthen relationships and locate funders for your project.”

“Would anyone actually want to put their funds into a project where the lead person might be imprisoned for starting it?” Cash asks.

Edson sighs. “You’re not going to prison. Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, it doesn’t matter to most of them whether your project gets off the ground, anyway. They’ll gain exposure simply by being associated with you. You’re a novelty, Mr. Michaud. We don’t have many new faces in business or in politics these days. You’ve managed to be both. With some luck, you might win the government’s support as the new Demoted system creator—if you do it well enough, you might not even need a highly politicized role. You can have your business and be a government sponsored contractor.”

Cash nods, like he’s not sure he wants either. From what Sascha’s told me, he doesn’t, but now that he’s in it, he has to play it out. There’s no way he can walk away from this with the rest of his life intact.

“Where does your business partner stand on this issue?” Edson asks.

Cash shrugs. “He’s supporting me.”

“He’s using us to support his own needs,” Sascha clarifies. “He’s in it for the money, for his cut in the medical research department. He bailed Cash out so the project could continue, and because he likes to play savior.”

Cash shrugs a little, not denying it, and Edson shakes her head at both of them.

“Let me know if the man becomes a problem. Although it sounds like a personal issue between the three of you. Keep it personal.”

“He’s got the rest of our data,” Sascha informs the lawyer. “The old stuff, the part that Cash has kept out of the media. And he knows who released the research.”

Edson considers it for a moment. “He’d be doing his own interests a significant disservice at this point, and he can’t prove anything about you, Sascha. Keep him uninformed about new developments, but keep him close. You can’t seem wary of your own partner. You have to proceed as if nothing is wrong, as if you are completely innocent.”

Cash nods. “One more thing. I have a more personal favor.”

Edson gives him a questioning look.

“Syrus,” Cash says, gesturing toward me. “My new bodyguard. It seems he has a bit of a problem with some connections from his previous master.”

Edson glances from Cash to me and back again. “Why is this my problem?”

“They tried to kill him at that talk show the other day,” Cash says. “Some old debt, and they’re angry at him for not sharing information about my project.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Edson says.

“Syrus’s previous master was closely connected to the Argova family,” Cash mentions, casual. “I believe that facilitating my relationship with the Argova family is one of your goals.”

“Yes. But my instructions include establishing strong business connections, not whatever you think I can do for your slave,” Edson tries to dismiss him.

“Tell whoever it matters to that Syrus is very valuable to me,” Cash continues, ignoring her. It’s a bluff, but he does it well. “If someone were to convince his previous associates that he is no longer of interest to them, I’d be interested in meeting with that person to discuss our future business ties. Say, at the sponsorship event we discussed.”

Edson smiles, the first I’ve seen that doesn’t look contrived. “I don’t think that will be any problem at all. To those who matter, something that small will be a welcome gift.”

“Sy’s master was the head of a low-level street gang,” Sascha informs her. “They run drugs and organs. They were in business with the Argova family, as well as my master’s business partner, Oliver Torenze. Now that Sy’s master is in prison, they’re under new leadership. Someone named Conrad has been sent to kill him.”

The lawyer’s smile widens. I know she’s met Conrad. She must be figuring out which low-level street gang she is discussing, but in the same way as she never mentioned the products that the 27th Street Gang moved, she isn’t mentioning the name of the gang now. “This will not be a problem. I believe I know exactly who you’re talking about. I’ll have someone let them know that Syrus has moved on to more important things. If they don’t like it, they can end up where his former master did.”

“Let’s hope I don’t end up in prison,” Cash mutters. “Sounds like I won’t have friends there.”

Edson laughs. “He’s no longer in prison. He was executed a few days ago. Habitual offender, resisted attempts to rehabilitate, poor legal defense. Someone who mattered decided that he would be a risk to society. They eliminated that risk.”

From the way she speaks, she may as well have given the lethal injection herself. Was that what it was all about, then? Had someone wanted my former master dead all along? They should have just asked me to kill him, but then, that wouldn’t have sent the same message. Having him legally executed demonstrates the reach of the Argova family; having me kill him would have just brought a smile to my face. No wonder he forfeited his rights to me.

They spend the rest of their time together discussing the finer details, the dates, the events, and I let myself tune out again. For the first time in decades, I feel like I might live to have a future.

Chapter 20
Permission

Over the next few days, Cash does his part to set in place the events and plans that we discussed with Edson. As much as I want to be with him, I’m glad he doesn’t bring me out to run errands. I’m tired of playing slave in public, and the very fact that I even consider it to be “playing” reminds me that I need to get my shit together. For Sy, it seems effortless.

With my work completed for the day and nothing else pressing, I stand at Sy’s doorway, wondering if I should go in. Sy’s in there, I can hear him breathing through the door, and I figure it’s probably creepy of me to just stand here listening. It’s the first time we’ve really been alone since we got back from the detention facility, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seriously thought about being with him alone. Cash said he wouldn’t mind, but it still seems strange.

I ponder that for a moment, because why should it feel strange? It doesn’t feel strange that Cash and I fuck pretty much every night, and during the day, sometimes. Since that first time the three of us had sex, we’ve fooled around a few more times, and it has been amazing every time. I don’t think I’d feel left out if Cash and Sy were to do anything alone, even though I doubt they ever would. The truth is, I miss spending time with Sy, time when I can let my guard down and not have to worry about his Cash’s ego or trying to balance my attention between the two of them. And a part of me is curious, every time he and Cash are sharing me, how it would be to be alone with him. Finally, I knock at the door, lightly at first, then loudly enough to hear. I wait, anxious as I hear footsteps approaching the door.

“Sascha,” he says, smiling at me.

“Hey,” I say, suddenly unable to speak.

He smiles at me, and for a moment, I think he might just make me wait forever until I can find words.

“Did you need something?” he asks, exceedingly polite.

I push my way into his room, deciding to go ahead and try to do this thing. I sit on the edge of his bed, determined, but still not sure how to start things. After a minute, he sits next to me, tentative. I glance at him nervously, feeling like an awkward schoolboy trying to make a move. I’m a sex slave, I have been for years, but somehow the idea of making a move on Sy is making me blush.

I reach over, placing my hand on his leg, hoping he gets it. Maybe this will be easier than speaking.

“Oh.” He smiles at me. “So that’s what you want, pretty boy?”

I jerk my hand away, feeling the blush deepen. I don’t know how to initiate this. Usually, it’s Cash; he’s the one who starts everything, the one who invites Sy in and woos him and gets him to want to have amazing sex with us. Well, Cash gets Sy to want to have amazing sex with me, but Cash is involved. They don’t do more than share the occasional glance or touch, even though a part of me is curious about how that would go.

A hand on my shoulder pulls me back to the present and out of my thoughts, and I look at Sy nervously, waiting.

“Did I misjudge?” Sy asks, raising an eyebrow.

I shake my head.

“You sure the master will be okay with this?” Sy asks, and I get the sense that he’s not trying to find excuses, he’s just checking bases. Thorough, always.

“I’m sure,” I answer easily, surprised by how much faith I put in Cash. “He’ll just be a little jealous that he missed out on the fun.”

Sy is quiet for a moment, smiling at me. Finally, when I’m starting to wonder whether this really was a good idea or not, he places his hand on my shoulder and turns me to face him. I wait, frozen, until he pulls me close and kisses me until I whimper.

He pauses, breaking our lips apart, caressing the back of my head. “Is that a good sound?”

I nod, slightly, caught up in the excitement of the moment. When nothing happens, I force myself to speak. “Yeah.”

Sy leans back against the pillows that are perfectly aligned against the headboard, pulling me along. I rest on top of him, his firm body somehow contouring to mine, comforting and familiar. I nuzzle up against his neck, seeking out the familiar smell of him and brushing my lips against his skin.

“What would you like?” he asks, running his hands over my body and making me squirm.

“I just…” I pause, considering it. “I just want to have fun with you. Whatever you want to do. We’ve never really… you know… alone.”

“Are you looking to fool around a little bit, or are you looking to fuck?” Sy asks, running his hands over my ass, massaging, but not demanding.

It feels good, it feels really good, and it takes me a minute to realize that he probably wants me to answer.

“I want you to fuck me,” I hear the words come out. I think I was going to say that we should just start out with fooling around, maybe I could give him head or something, but I really do want him to fuck me. I want to feel what it’s like to have him fuck me when it’s just the two of us.

Sy smiles, kisses me again. “All right,” he says, his hands coming up to strip my shirt off. “I can’t say I haven’t thought about this.”

He has me naked in seconds, and it’s just so efficient and sexy. Cash strips me slowly sometimes, rips my clothes off sometimes, and has me strip myself sometimes, but he never does it quite this efficiently. In the same way, Sy begins removing his own clothes, but I stop him, covering his hands with mine.

“Can I?” I ask, looking up at him hopefully. He might like the efficiency, but I kind of want to play with him a little.

He looks startled, but he relaxes, letting his hands drop back to give me free access. “All right,” he says, smiling. “I guess I’m not really used to that.”

I don’t think too much about what he is used to; I know enough from what he’s told me that he was never a pampered toy like I am; he was used harshly and without care. I don’t want it to be like that between us. I’ve seen how caring he can be with me, and I want to show him the same consideration in return. I want to appreciate him, especially now that I have him all to myself.

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