Page 6 of Found at Sea
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Fletcher
The tavern was busier than normal that night. For the better part of three hours, I’d been running back and forth, refilling mugs, serving food, and cleaning spills; some due to sloppiness and some due to the drunken fights.
When Ned had pulled me aside and said that the brothel across the street had requested ale be sent to their establishment, I had agreed with no problem. Anything to get me away from the rowdy men and their massive egos.
What I hadn’t expected was to drop off the ale to the Madam, and then accidentally go into the wrong room. A room where three men were having sex. Before that moment, I’d never seen men enjoy each other in such a way.
I hadn’t known there were others like me.
While I hadn’t experienced sex yet, I’d come to realize through the years that where most men spoke of the treasure between a woman’s legs, I was more interested in what was between theirs. I’d never spoken the desires aloud, too afraid of what people would say.
Walking in on the three men on the bed, I couldn’t look away.
I knew it was wrong of me to stay, for it was a private act I had no business witnessing, but I was transfixed by the dark haired man who so easily held my gaze. The way he moved inside the man made my breeches fit tighter. The sounds leaving their lips, the muscles flexing in their backs, and the sight of their naked bodies slick with sweat made me quietly whimper.
The man who still held my stare lifted his hand and crooked his finger at me. With his eyes at half-mast, his lips parted, and his cock pumping into the other man in a faster rhythm—I knew his release was close.
And he wishes for me to join him in bed.
It felt like all the blood washed from my face, and as fast as I could, I shut the door and ran down the hall. I exited the brothel and walked at a fast pace toward the tavern. The night air was just a little cool, and yet, my skin was hot. Sweaty. As ifI’dbeen the one on my knees in front of the dark haired man as he took me from behind.
The thought made my heart beat faster.
“Everything good, boy?” Ned asked as I entered the small kitchen in the back. He was cutting a loaf of bread and setting the pieces on a plate, along with bowls of our famous stew. It wasn’t the greatest grub in town, but it was better than some. “Ya look like you seen a walking corpse.”
“I’ve certainly seen something,” I answered, approaching him and helping with the food.
“Whore houses have that effect on some men.” Ned laughed. “Next time, I’ll go. Don’t worry your mind over it.”
“I’m not worrying,” I said, grabbing a slice of bread and dropping it on top of the meaty stew. “I’m no longer a child. I’m nineteen.”
“That you are, Fletch.” Something in his voice made me turn to him. A frown caused the wrinkles in his forehead to become even more apparent. “Ya know I care for you, boy, like you are my own. It kills me to have to tell ya this, but business hasn’t been as good as needed.”
My blood turned cold as I guessed at what he was about to say.
“I’m in a lotta debt with having to run the tavern and the expenses associated with it,” he continued, running a hand through his gray-streaked brown hair. “Any extra coin I have, I give to you for your hard work ‘round here, but my debts have racked up higher, and I can’t afford to keep you any longer.”
“But business is great tonight,” I said as boisterous laughs came from the main room where all the patrons still drank.
“One night doesn’t make up for the lousy ones before it,” Ned said in a sympathetic tone. “A young man approached me earlier this evenin’ and said he’d pay me weekly if I gave him your loft. Good amount of coin too. He’s a merchant who’s gonna be in town for a while, selling his wears and trinkets.”
“Please don’t throw me out, Ned,” I begged as panic arose in my chest. “I’ll work with no pay for a while if I have to.”
The memory of my time on the streets was much too painful. I’d gone days—often times more—with little food and no shelter. I’d suffered through the cruelty of man, being hit and kicked by strangers who saw me as nothing more than a waste of life. What little I’d found to eat—some charred bread thrown out from the bakery or a piece of fruit that’d rolled off a vendor’s cart—had been stolen from me by others with no home and nothing to their names.
I could not go back to that.
I wouldn’t.
“You’re a man now, Fletch,” Ned said, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s time for you to find your place in the world. Workin’ in my tavern isn’t good enough for a lad like you. But put it outta your mind for tonight.” He grabbed two of the bowls and walked toward the door that led to the main part of the tavern. “We’ll discuss it more later.”
Once he left the kitchen, I leaned against the table and took deep breaths. The news wasn’t a surprise, for I’d known Ned was struggling with making ends meet, and I suspected he wouldn’t keep me around forever.
I just hadn’t expected for it to end so soon.
Gathering the other bowl of stew in one hand and the plate of mutton in the other, I exited the kitchen too. Ned pointed to where the food needed to go, and I gave the dishes to the men and collected their money before going back to the bar and grabbing the pitcher of mead. I continued my work, but my mind kept drifting off.
