Page 54 of Viking Ink

Rhys nodded. “I do now, but my father was outraged. He kept screaming these awful words, and threatened to send me to the farm. He was going to send me there and let Father Gordon and his helpers beat the gay out of me. He doesn’t care that I’m a grown man. To him, I’m just an unruly, deviant child who is his property.” His eyes welled with tears “I couldn’t— no, I wouldn’t—let them change who I am, so I ran as far as I could. And I ended up here.”

“Is there a chance of them finding you?” Concern made my gut clench. The thought of anything happening to Rhys made me feel sick.

“I hope not, but I know he won’t let me go easily. I’m his biggest failure and he wants that wiped from the slate. My disappearing isn’t good enough. He needs to make an example of me in front of his congregation.” Rhys leaned into my arm, his fingers stroking my forearm. “I know my first instinct on seeing him or someone from the church would be to run, but I don’t want to, not now. I’m done running. You’ve given me a reason to stop running and hiding, and to fight for what I have.”

“Baby, I know, but if it’s a choice between me or your safety? Fucking run. I’ll find you, I promise. But I don’t want those bastards to hurt you.” Pulling him against my chest. I ran my hand down his back. I could feel the uneven flesh of the scars on his back. “Did those bastards do this to you?”

I buried my face in Rhys’s curls, trying to fight the tears that threatened. I physically ached for what my brave, strong man had been through, and anger at his abusers flared through me. But it wouldn’t do me or Rhys any good to let the anger take control.

Rhys nodded, shaking slightly in my arms.

I kissed his hair and pulled him closer wanting to take the pains of the past away from him.

“My Dad and Pastor Gordon. They used a birch cane. The scars are ugly, and I can’t forget why I have them.” He snuffled softly against my neck.

An idea formed—something I could do to help Rhys heal, if he wanted me to.

“Rhys, would you want me to draw a design to tattoo over them? To give you a new memory, something just for us?” I’d talk to Callum. He’d worked with people with burns and self-harm scars before, creating beautiful works to go over the scarred skin. Perhaps I could do the same for Rhys.

“You can do that?” Rhys had pulled back in my arms, his eyes lighting up with interest.

“Of course. We’d have to be sure the skin was healed and would take the ink, but I’m sure we could talk to Doc and check. Maybe we could start with something small and grow from there.”

The smile Rhys gave was bright like the midday sun, his eyes sparkling. “I would love that.”

I rubbed my nose gently against Rhys’s, earning a sweet laugh. “It’s a plan, then. Now my sweet boy, how do you feel about a bath?”

Rhys brought his hands up to cup my face. The soft touch of his fingertips sent a bolt of heat through my skin. “I think I want my Daddy to take care of me, to wash me clean, then make me his.” The flush of colour rose along his cheeks. My breath caught. Was he asking me for what I thought he was?

“Are you certain? Are you asking me to—” My tongue was tied, and it wasn’t helped by the sexy smirk Rhys gave.

“I want my Daddy to take me to bed and fuck me like he owns me, and then I want cuddles and hot chocolate.” He wiggled his butt against my groin, and I had to physically hold back from flipping my gorgeous boy, pressing him into the sofa, and having my way with him.

But I had to be sure of one thing first.

“Before we put the previous discussion aside, I need you to promise me that if anything happens, if you see or hear that anyone from your family has found you here, you’ll tell me. We’ll work something out, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”

“I promise. But Simon? I’m done running. I’ve let those arseholes run my life for too long.”

I loved the fire in my boy’s eyes, but it worried me. “How about this? If there is ever a situation where you’re worried and I’m not with you, text me the word porridge and where you are, and I’ll come running.”

“Porridge?”

“It’s a well-established fact you’d rather not endure porridge. It works as a safe word of sorts,” I answered with a grin.

Rhys’s eyes went wide then he let out a burst of sweet laughter. “Oh my god, that’s perfect, and I promise if anything happens or I need you, I’ll use it.”

“But not if it’s just because Doc’s eaten all the Hobnobs and is a cranky sod,” I warned.

Rhys pouted and fluttered his lashes. “Not even if he’s being extra salty?”

“Nope. The man is your boss, baby. You know how to deal with him. But while we’re on the subject, it might be a good idea to Doc give a heads up about your family. You don’t have to go into details, and you know he won’t push, but letting him know the situation would be a good idea.” I was already thinking about how I could rope in the guys to all help keep an eye out. I wouldn’t have to fill them in on too many details, just enough for them to know that Rhys could be at risk.

“So now can we revisit bath time? You owe me lots of bubbles.” Rhys gave a soft smile, and how could I resist?

“Okay buttercup, hold on tight.” I stood up with Rhys clinging to me and giggling, and strode towards the bathroom. I had a boy to dote on, and I was looking forward to it.

Chapter 16

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