Page 29 of The Monster I Am

“It’s not beyond reason when it’s reasonable to hate them,” Rhys commented. He hated them too. He didn’t quite know if he believed that Aidan didn’t see him as a monster but… maybe. “It was different, with Craig,” he said more quietly. “Everything was different. Better.”

Even having to hide what he was had been better than this hellscape.

Rhys glanced down at Jared. “He does have strong opinions, apparently,” he remarked. “I don’t know what I did to deserve his trust, though.”

But he had.

Somewhere along the way, he’d garnered Jared’s trust, and his loyalty.

And potentially something more.

Jared had defended him when he hadn’t had to. He’d shouted at a supe. What did all of that mean?

“I can hazard a guess or two,” Aidan said with amusement in his voice. “Which all comes down to treating him with respect. He’s a human in a world where supes don’t treat humans with any kind of respect. How much do you think he’s had in the last ten years? Do you think he’s felt safe a day in his life?”

“Respect,” Rhys repeated with a scoff. “I’ve been making him clean my fucking house every day for seven days straight. I gave him a book yesterday, and it was like I’d given him the world.” He sighed, stroking his fingers through Jared’s hair. “I’ll have to be careful. I can’t treat him too kindly, but I don’t want to break him, either. I guess as long as it looks like I’m keeping him worked over, though, it’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes. “And he will be safe with me, right up until the point we get caught.”

“Then don’t get caught,” Aidan said simply.

Rhys barked out a laugh. “Of course.” He hadn’t gotten caught up to this point. Just… a few more months. That was all. Then they’d set everything into motion, and they’d light the fuse to detonate this status quo. He sat up as they pulled into his driveway. “Thanks for the ride back.” He gently shook Jared. “Time to wake up.”

Jared blinked groggily awake. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Rhys helped Jared out of the car. “It’s fine,” he murmured. “See you later, Aidan.” He went to the door, getting them past the ward and security system and into the living room. “We need to have a talk. Do you think you can handle that tonight, or should we wait until morning?”

“I’m awake, sir,” Jared said, though that didn’t quite answer the question that had been posed.

There was a big difference between being awake and being able to handle a conversation of this magnitude.

“All right.” Rhys took off his shoes then went to sit on the couch, gesturing for Jared to join him. “Sit down, and then I want you to tell me what you think you know about me. About what happened tonight.”

He murmured a few words, setting a silencing spell around them. It wasn’t necessary; his wards were sufficient to protect against anyone getting inside who hadn’t specifically been keyed to them — of which Aidan was one of three — and he knew there were no trackers in his home. But paranoia had taken hold of him.

He had more to protect than only himself now.

Jared tugged at the front of his shirt. “Should I take this off?”

Rhys really should’ve said no.

Or he should’ve given Jared the option.

Instead, he said, “Yes. I’ll get you something to wear while you’re cooking, and I might have you dress if I have company, but I’d prefer it if you were undressed. I want to see you, all of you.”

Jared flashed a brief, tentative smile, and quickly undressed, folding the shirt and sweatpants neatly before sitting on the couch where Rhys had indicated. He chewed on his lip. “You’re a sympathizer, aren’t you? You and the others. You thought I was working for someone to spy on you.”

Even though he’d been the one to bring it up, Rhys still grimaced. At least that was all, but there was no reason for Jared to think that he was actively doing anything but sympathizing. “What else do you think?” he prompted. “What else could you tell someone if they pressured you to talk about me?”

Jared eyed Rhys. “What I think, or what I’d tell someone, because those aren’t the same thing at all,” he said, his words a bit tart. “Being a sympathizer is dangerous. If someone asks me, I’ll tell them you make me lick your boots clean and you beat me until I’m sobbing and begging you to stop.” He offered another almost shy smile, then added, “Sir.”

Rhys arched a brow. That attitude was new. New, but good. It made Jared seem more alive, in a way that he hadn’t seen in the past week. Well, except for when he’d given him the book to read. That had felt the same way.

“You’ll always have my marks,” Rhys said without hesitation. “You’ll always look like I’m abusing you terribly, and that’s the narrative I need you to spin. Eyes down, silent, terrified of fucking up, all of those things. When we go to parties — and we will go to parties — I expect you to pay attention when I’m not working you over or when you’re recovering. When we first arrive, listen. Don’t watch. I won’t do that to you. But listen, and report back to me if anyone says anything interesting.”

“Is having your marks going to be like this last week?” Jared asked. ”Because if that’s what that is, I’m okay with that. You haven’t done anything I haven’t liked.”

“Yes.” Rhys reached out, tracing one of the cuts on Jared’s chest with his fingertip. “It will be like that. I’ll allow your cuts to heal so you don’t scar, but you’ll always have my bruises.”

“I didn’t like the cleaning. There are only so many times I can clean the same things before I’m dying of boredom.” He eyed Rhys again. “Not that boredom is always bad.”