Page 23 of The Monster I Am

Rhys went still. “What? No. Unacceptable, and impossible. That’s too dangerous. If I’m seen with Geoff… Are you trying to get me killed now?” he accused.

“She’s going to have questions about that,” Aidan snapped, pointing towards the bedroom. “Ones I’m not going to be able to answer. And if he is a plant, that’s something that Sebastian will be able to uncover, and you know it.”

Rhys grimaced. Aidan was right. The vampire would be able to tell them a great deal about Jared, and if anything was amiss, he’d find it. “At least have her arrange something separately. If the pickup goes poorly and I’m there with Geoff…” He shook his head. “I’ll speak to her, to both of them, but we need to strategize. I understand that what you saw was… upsetting.”

It was a mild term, and he knew it, but he didn’t want to face it. He didn’t want to face what he’d felt compelled to do, what he’d allowed himself to do.

“But that doesn’t mean we can be careless,” he continued. He had to be rational, pragmatic enough for both of them.

“Upsetting?” Aidan asked, incredulity dripping from his voice. “There’s knowing what you do at those fucking parties, and there’s walking in to a fucking bloody massacre. You have to cut him up there? Fine, I can buy that.” The words made it clear that that assessment was still under review. “But that?” He shook his head. “You said this was something you had to do to keep up appearances. That you didn’t want to do it.” The implication and accusation were not subtle.

“I lied!” Rhys snarled. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Yes, I’m an evil monster who enjoys cutting up helpless slaves who can’t consent’?” He scoffed loudly, slamming his hand down on the countertop near the neglected coffee, but he didn’t particularly care about that. “I know what I am. But you know the value in what I can do. So does Elizabeth. So does Sebastian. Don’t delude yourself into thinking that I’m a good person, because no good person can stomach what I do and still manage to fuck an unwilling slave at the end of the night!” His voice was rising in volume, but he couldn’t seem to control himself now that the words had begun to spill from him.

Aidan’s expression tightened, and he seemed on the verge of saying more, but the argument was getting out of control. He visibly fought back his temper, snatching the phone out of his pocket to scan through it. “Pick up is at two, as long as it’s clear.”

Rhys made a disgusted sound, but he didn’t argue. He shouldered past Geoff on his way out of the kitchen, ignoring the werewolf — who was really doing his best not to be seen anyway — and stalked toward Jared’s room.

Had the slave heard anything? He hadn’t been that loud, had he? Jared always obeyed him. There was no reason to think he’d done anything but lie there and rest.

But the door closed with a soft sound in front of his eyes as he turned the corner toward the bedrooms, and he closed his eyes.

Motherfucker.

This night just had to keep getting better, didn’t it?

Rhys slammed the door open, his eyes finding a very white-faced Jared getting back into bed. “Oh, don’t lie down on my account,” he said sarcastically. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Jared cringed away from the ugly words, shaking his head as tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, sir! I’m sorry!” He abandoned the half-finished attempt to get into bed, sinking onto his kneels on the floor instead.

Rhys let out a harsh laugh. “Yes, I’m sure you are.” He fixed Jared with a hard look.

“I didn’t⁠—”

“You didn’t what?” Rhys dared. “You didn’t hear anything? I’d find that hard to believe. So the question is, what the fuck am I supposed to do about it? Hmm?” He made a disgusted sound. “Did Bancroft put you up to this? Was this just a setup?”

Jared shook his head frantically, tears starting to fall. “No, sir! No! I don’t— I don’t know anything!”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and angry, though he was angrier at himself for the whole situation than he was at Jared or even Aidan. The situation had been dire, and it wasn’t as though anything he’d said or done could’ve prepared Aidan for the reality of what it was like for Rhys to have a slave he had to keep up appearances with.

Fuck that, fuck him; Rhys wasn’t doing anything but being selfish, was he?

“We’ll see,” he said cryptically. “I’m getting you clothes. You’ll get dressed and wait. You’ll be on your best behavior, or…” He laughed again, the sound utterly mirthless. “Well. It may not be up to me what happens to you.”

Jared cringed. “Yes, sir,” he whispered, his voice hitching in the middle.

Jared sounded genuinely distraught, and Rhys felt some of the anger deflate into self-disgust. “As long as you aren’t working for Bancroft or Russell or someone else, you’ll be fine,” he said more quietly.

Jared shook his head frantically. “I’m not, I’m not, sir,” he babbled. “I don’t— I’m not.”

Rhys regarded him for another moment, then let out a slow breath. If Jared was innocent, this was downright cruel.

He had no idea how he was going to explain away Jared’s disappearance if Elizabeth took him away, and the idea of losing him had his stomach doing something he didn’t like or understand. But he’d gone too far. He’d crossed a line. He’d gone past appearances and into being greedy and selfish.

“Stay here.”

He left the room, grabbing sweatpants and a t-shirt for Jared, then returned. He offered the clothes out to him.

“Be honest with them,” he said, and he sounded as weary as he felt. “They, at least, are good people who want to help.”