Page 44 of His Reward
He didn’t get any farther than that, and he didn’t look at either me or Bea before wheeling around the end of the sofa and dashing into his bedroom. He even shut the door a little too forcefully behind him.
It wasn’t just the last straw for Lucien.
“My lawyer is getting a call in the morning,” Bea said, standing and grabbing the plate of snacks, then marching into the kitchen. “I’m going back over there tonight and packing my things. I can only make so many excuses for that man’s behavior.”
I stood as well, feeling a paradoxical sense of calm, considering the sledgehammer Pietro Monteverdi had just taken to the lives of the people I cared about.
“Will you move in here?” I asked, walking into the kitchen area with careful steps, like I was dynamite and might explode if I stomped around the way I wanted to.
Bea glanced up from where she’d just viciously tossed the entire plate of snacks into the trash. It was a waste, but I understood her need to make the gesture. “If he’ll have me,” she said. “I don’t want to get in the way of you two, though.”
An idea popped into my head. Honestly, it was something that had been there for a while, pretty much since the auction event ended months ago. It was a little bit of a gamble because I hadn’t discussed anything with Lucien, but instinct told me it was exactly what both of us needed.
“I need your permission to kidnap Lucien,” I said before I would be tempted to back out.
“I beg your pardon?” Bea asked, angry, but not with me.
“I think Lucien could do with a change of scenery and outlook for a while,” I said. “This thing with Pietro and skating is going to eat him up inside unless I get him away from it, at least until the end of the Winter Games.” I didn’t know why I hadn’t seen it sooner.
Bea was smart enough to pick up on what I was saying quickly. “If you’re saying you want to take him to stay at your place for a while, then yes, I think that would be a good idea.”
“Good, I’m glad,” I said. “And I think Lucien would love it if you want to stay here while he’s at my place.”
“I’ll go ask him,” she said, starting out of the room.
I stopped her with a gesture and said, “I’ll handle it. Why don’t you head home and get all your things together before Pietro gets home tonight. Do you have a key to this place?” I rushed through things a little on purpose.
“I do,” Bea said, crossing to the table near the door to get her purse. I was pretty sure she sensed I was up to something out of the ordinary, too. “You take care of my boy,” she went on. “He’s hurting more than he’s letting on.”
Didn’t I know it.
“I will,” I said.
I walked Bea to the door and we exchanged a few more words of care and thanks. Once she was gone, however, I faced the apartment, quiet except for the TV still droning away with something about skiing now, and took a deep breath.
I knew what I wanted to do, what Lucien needed me to do, but I would have to be careful about how I did it. Usually, I took my time planning play scenes. This wasn’t exactly playtime, but I had to get Lucien out of the dark place he’d fallen into, and I knew this was the right way. I would also have to be careful because of his healing wounds.
I started by searching the drawers in the kitchen for duct tape. He didn’t have any, but he did have masking tape. It was an almost comical substitute, but then again, it would probably be easier on his skin. From there, I took his winter coat out of the closet, tossed it on the sofa, and turned off the TV.
Lucien was lying on his bed facing toward the window when I walked into the room. “I don’t want to watch the competition tonight, if that’s what you’re here to try to get me to do,” he said in a gloomy voice.
I remained silent. The effect would be much more impactful if I said as little as possible. I approached the bed, holdingthe roll of masking tape. When I was close enough, I leaned menacingly over him.
Lucien turned slightly, glancing back over his shoulder at me. “What are you?—”
I pounced before he could finish his question, scooping him roughly into my arms and clamping my hand over his mouth. “Thought you could get away from me, did you, boy?” I growled deeply.
Lucien whimpered and shuddered, but I could see in the brightness that came to his eyes that what he was feeling wasn’t fear. It was an awakening of something else that I suspected had gone dormant in him.
“I own you, boy,” I hissed against his ear, yanking him to the side of the bed. “I bought you when you were on display on that stage, naked and hard and dripping. You’ll never escape from me. I said I’d put a baby in you and I’m not letting you go until you’re round and soft with my child. You’re coming with me.”
I let go of his mouth but quickly shifted to grab the roll of tape I wore around my wrist like a bracelet. I pulled a strip off and wrapped it around his ankles, then yanked out another and fastened his hands behind his back, being careful in the way I moved his left arm. He wore his pressure bandage, but the last thing I wanted to do was cause him the wrong kind of pain. I was extra careful in the way I wrapped masking tape around the lower half of his face. It didn’t really stick like duct tape, but it would do.
Once that was done and Lucien lay on his side, trembling and breathing heavily, I grabbed one of his pillows and tore the pillowcase off before putting it over his head. After that, I lifted him into my arms and carried him to the main room to wrap him in his coat, then left him on the sofa. I took a few minutes to throw a few essentials, including his medications, into a bag Ifound in his bedroom closet. With that slung over my shoulder, I returned to the main room and hoisted him into my arms.
“You’re mine now, boy,” I told him as I carried him to the door, fetching my phone, his phone, and my keys and being careful to turn off all the lights. “This time, you’re not getting away from what I have in store for you.”
I knew the masking tape hadn’t held up around his mouth, because as we headed out to the condo’s hallway, I swore I heard him whisper, “Thank God!”
