Page 60 of Lay It Bare

Ellisandre leaned forward, checking the screen. Sevastyan’s name, info, and general location were right there on the screen. His public persona as an art dealer and his criminal persona both.

They took a snapshot and sent it to Sevastyan.

A few moments later, Sevastyan texted back.

Unease settled into the pit of Ellisandre’s stomach.

Rei

Rei turned around when Sevastyan’s phone dinged in the middle of the movie. Sevastyan sat on the couch, legs spread, lounging against the cushions. Rei was on the floor with Lisa, his smaller body almost on top of Lisa’s. If only he were heavy enough and large enough to make Lisa feel safe. Instead, all he could do was hold on, knowing that if Lisa truly asked, he’d hand him back the knife. While Rei had Sevastyan, Lisa had nothing but Alexi. There was no hope for a day when everything ended. Not . . . in any way Rei wanted to articulate even in the darkness of his own head. But he couldn’t stop the images from forming, even if he refused to think the words.

“It’s nothing,” Sevastyan said, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

Rei bent his head in acknowledgement and turned back to the movie. It was all he could do for the moment, get lost in the story playing out on the large screen.

Sevastyan offered Rei bits of dried fruit, cheese, and pickles by turns. He didn’t offer any to Lisa, passing down a full plate instead. There was something like relief in Lisa’s body as he accepted.

Rei let his breath move slowly in his chest. This night was good. He was going to let it keep being good. He was going to stay in this place in his head that was good.

It helped that the food was delicious. Lisa was eating. Lisa was letting Rei feed him from the plate even, taking bits of fruit and cheese from his fingers. Every time Rei offered, Lisa opened his mouth. These were all good things.

With any other master, Rei and Lisa would be taking their lives in their hands just doing this much. He could see it in Lisa’s eyes. But Lisa was ready to end it all. He was throwing in the towel. Had been throwing in the towel since the moment he fell into the snow, hoping Rei would find him. Now that he knew he was only damning himself—that Sevastyan wouldn’t make Rei pay for his affection—Lisa was no longer holding back.

Suicide by a different name. None of them were saying the words, but they were dancing on the edge of the knowing. The rope holding them all up was fraying. They couldn’t hang here, clinging to what they had, much longer.

Rei closed his eyes. This moment was good. But the next moment and the moment after that, they were all shades of black and gray. And red.

They couldn’t stay here. They had to change the path. The answer was right in front of them, but they had to take it.

Sevastyan

The movie ended. Rei turned around on his knees and leaned against Sevastyan’s knee. “May I be excused, Master?”

“Toilet?” Sevastyan said.

“Yes, master.”

Sevastyan ran his hands through Rei’s hair. It was getting long. He should cut it soon, or decide to let it grow out.

“Go ahead and shower now,” Sevastyan murmured. “Take your time, do everything.”

“Yes, Master.”

Sevastyan drew Rei up, caressing his face. “Beautiful.”

Rei leaned into the touch. He appeared more grounded than before. The food and the movie had been the right choice. Some of the life that going out had brought to Rei’s eyes had returned since finding Lisa in the bathroom. Sevastyan pressed a kiss to Rei’s cheek and let him go. Rei glided away, slender legs moving like the dancer he was over the carpet and wood floors into the bedroom.

Lisa stayed where he was on the floor, still facing the TV. Sevastyan sipped cordial from his wineglass and waited. The other man was close. His body had moved nearer and nearer to Sevastyan’s throughout the evening. The tightness in Lisa’s form had gradually faded during the film. It was back now, returning as soon as Rei disappeared.

Sevastyan lowered the base of his glass to his leg and waited. Now and then he took another sip. Lisa was as skittish as his namesake, the fox. Now and then he was so still he could not be breathing, and then he would draw in air again.

When the slave moved, it was sudden. He turned, landing on his knees between Sevastyan’s feet, his hands gripping the couch cushion between Sevastyan’s thighs. He bent his head, forehead against his hands, showing Sevastyan the back of his neck.

Sevastyan gave Lisa a heartbeat, then two. He leaned forward and set his wineglass on the table. Then he settled his hand on the back of Lisa’s neck, giving it weight but nothing else.

Lisa shuddered. He moved, adjusting his knees, gripping and releasing the cushion of the coach so that the fabric pulled back and forth beneath Sevastyan’s thighs. His breath stuttered and caught. Sevastyan let his own breath come slow and even. Lisa’s shoulders shook, the muscles over his back tightening and releasing.

He was crying.