Page 9 of Under His Skin

He was so pathetic, but in the end he was grateful when Tracht allowed him to share the bed that night.

Chapter 3

The debteasing center called to remind Tracht about the appointment.

“Don’t we have other things to do?” Alex asked on the way there. “You have that nutso client.”

“Nutso?” Tracht said sharply, though his irritation was more at the situation than about Alex’s usual lack of tact. If he desired tact, he wouldn’t have kept Alex around for the full five years.

If he desired tact, he wouldn’t have taken public transportation to get to the debtleasing center. There was a certain extra hell in being packed into a train car with strangers, but it prolonged the trip. He’d also positioned them so that he was against the wall, while Alex stood in front of him as a barrier against all the other people.

“Y’know. The one who wants all the containers to be a certain color and needs assurances that we’re placing everything at exact angles?” Alex bumped his shoulder against Tracht’s. “Aren’t you negotiating with him?”

“Don’t insult our clients.”

“Whatever. You know he’s weird. Bahjat thinks he’s weird too.”

It wasn’t worth answering, not in a public location like this. He caught a woman staring at Alex and wondered if she was interested in his muscles or horrified by the scar on his face.

When she noticed Tracht looking, she didn’t avert her gaze. She stood taller and gave him a clear disgusted look. The reaction was surprising, until he realized the vid screens situated around the train car were all playing an anti-bondservant piece.

In light of the situation, maybe it was a good thing that Alex’s contract was over and done with. Tracht wouldn’t need to worry about what the eventual outcome of this issue was. There’d be fewer parties that catered to his tastes, with everybody forced to find willing partners, but it would be a small loss.

It would be interesting to see if all this agitation would spill over to Atalanta and Pylos too. He didn’t see any other practical solutions to crime or poverty, and none of the main players on the opposing side seemed to be fussed enough to propose anything.

The train came to a halt at their destination, and Tracht ushered Alex out.

“Can we stop for lunch first?” Alex asked as they passed a food stand.

Tracht rolled his eyes. “You had breakfast, and I know you’re attempting to stall.”

“Stall? Why would I stall? I’m happy about this. The collar gets removed. Yay. I’m debt-free. And then… Nothing changes, right?” Alex looked longingly at the food stand, but he kept walking. Tracht didn’t miss that Alex’s statement was more of a plea.

“That’s right. Nothing changes. You continue to work for me; we continue our sexual relationship.” Tracht paused while he considered how to word the next bit. How Alex would now be able to leave him at the first moment of distress. How Alex was free to refuse him without any consequence. How Tracht couldn’t stand the thought of Alex surviving, thriving, on his own.

This wasn’t a conversation Tracht wanted to have only a block from the debtleasing center. In hindsight, he should have talked about this before. The only reason he hadn’t was because he didn’t want to give Alex ideas. He didn’t want Alex to know he could leave.

Alex wasn’t going to leave, though. Where would he go? He had nothing. He was committed to Tracht, his mind so twisted that he couldn’t imagine not staying.

They entered the debtleasing center. Sometime over the past five years, the place had been remodeled, and Tracht didn’t recognize the receptionist either. There’d been a time when he’d been in and out regularly, always looking for a new person to torture and never finding somebody who satisfied him.

The receptionist looked at both of them. His eyes settled on Alex’s collar before he turned his full attention to Tracht. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes. Please tell Mr. Greis that Captain Tracht is here to see him.”

The receptionist nodded and pointed at the waiting area. “Please have a seat. I’ll let you know when you can head up.”

The vid screen in the corner displayed the time; despite everything, they were a good fifteen minutes early. Apparently Tracht was just incapable of being late for anything, despite dreading this appointment.

Alex took a seat, but Tracht opted to stay standing. There was only one chair left anyway, next to a woman who was silently crying into her hands. She was probably there to sign up for a contract.

Alex, ever tactful, asked loudly, “Why are you crying?”

The other people waiting all looked at him, and the woman in question startled visibly. She wiped her tears before straightening her posture. “Why do you think? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“So?” Alex folded his arms into a defensive posture. “It’s an easy gig. Just don’t do anything stupid like agree to body mods.”

Tracht almost burst out laughing. He coughed into his hand to avoid giving himself away.

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