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Chapter Seven
Nathan wakes up slowly the morning after the auction, reality taking a moment to settle in. For just a second, he’s surprised that there’s someone wrapped in his arms.
Then it all comes rushing back.
Carter had gotten sick last night. He had hidden in the bathroom and emptied himself of everything from vomit to sobs. When he had come back to bed, Nathan had tried to do what he thought was best. He had tried to strip Carter of the person he was so he could just fucking relax and give in for a while. Miraculously, Carter had listened to him. He had fallen asleep. Right there in Nathan’s arms.
Now, here the boy is, still wrapped around Nathan, using his chest as a pillow as Nathan lies on his back, a leg thrown over one of Nathan’s like he couldn’t get close enough, that damn moose trapped between his stomach and Nathan’s side.
Nathan has to piss, but he refuses to wake the poor boy up just yet. Instead, he lets himself relax in the bed, studying Carter’s sleeping form. He’s peaceful like this. He looks his age.
He looks beautiful.
The boy is all messy dark brown hair and long lashes kissing pale skin. The elegant slope of his nose begs Nathan’s finger to run along it. His cheekbones are even sharper than his old pictures, exaggerated by his hunger. The small freckle on the corner of his jaw would be the perfect place for Nathan to press a soft kiss. His lips, chapped and scabbed, are impossibly full. Once they’re taken care of, Nathan bets they’ll be so very warm and soft. They’ll look fantastic wrapped around Nathan’s-
Nathan closes his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. He can’t fantasize about things like that. Just because he’s going to get to fuck this boy’s mouth and ass doesn’t mean he should allow himself to revel in it. It’s rape. He’ll never be lucky enough for it to be anything but rape.
If this were another bed, another place, if Nathan was another person - if Nathan was allowed to beTravis– this morning would be a good one. He can just picture it. Him waking up in Carter’s off-campus apartment just like this, the boy in his arms. They’d have sleepy morning sex, Carter giggling – Nathan has no idea if Carter is a giggler, but he likes the idea of the boy being happy enough to giggle – as he tries to convince him to skip class and stay naked in bed all day. Carter would go to class anyway – Maison says he’s an excellent student. He would pout, but he’d kiss Carter goodbye anyway, proud as fuck of his boy. Maybe he would even have school of his own. Art school, like he always dreamed before realizing someone aged out of the foster system didn’t have a chance in hell at something like that and went and joined the Army instead. He’d spend his day covered in chalk and paint. When Carter got home later that night, they would cook dinner in the small kitchen together. They’d eat. Talk. Then cuddle up on the couch, Carter doing his homework with his head in his lap. He’d play with the boy’s soft hair with his left hand and sketch with his right. Carter would hum and smile, telling him it feels nice. Eventually they’d go to bed, neither of them obligated, no one guilty, no one staying awake all night crying. They’d make love – or maybe fuck hard, depending on how Carter wants it that night – before falling asleep tangled together beneath the sheets. Then they’d wake up and do it all over again.
That’d be their life. Simple. Easy.Happy.
It’s a nice fantasy. More than nice, even.
But it’s just that – a fantasy.
Nathan gave up the possibility of a life like that the day he becameNathan. That kind of life – that kind ofhappiness- was for Travis. For almost a decade now, he’s known he’ll never have that. He’ll never be Travis again. There’s no going back. No off-campus apartments. No lazy morning sex. Even when this operation is over, there will be other things to do. Hell, even once he retires, he’d never take the chance of falling in love. Ghosts will haunt him until he dies. That’s just what happens when you sign up for this job.
Look at Maison. Carter is right here because of him. Nathan hates to say that, he really does, but it’s the truth. Maison has family. Maison has people to lose. It makes him vulnerable. It puts the people he loves in danger. Nathan will never take that chance.
If Nathan were to have a magic button, though… if he were able to become Travis even just for a day, he’d want to start that day exactly like this. Carter in his arms. Sleepy. Safe. Not afraid of him. Not obligated to be with him.
Nathan carefully extracts himself from Carter and heads to the bathroom. He takes a long shower, trying to wash away all of the doubts and stress of the past 24 hours so he can successfully pull this shit off today. In order to do what he’s been able to do over the better part of this past decade, Nathan has built himself into a ruthless, evil man. He’s become a fucking monster.
Being kind to Carter in front of Benny was fine, Benny is his partner in the operation after all, but the rest of his men won’t accept that. He has to figure out where to draw the line. There’s wiggle room with Carter because he was so expensive, because he’s seen as something valuable. Maison was right about him being a trophy, even if the concept is fucked up. Nathan can use that. He can say he doesn’t want to break his trophy.
But he has to be careful. Every kindness he shows Carter, every reprieve he hands him, has to look selfish. If Nathan’s men ever figure out that it’sCarterhe’s doing things for, it’s all over. Nathan has no fucking idea how he’s going to pull it off.
Nathan knows one thing for sure though.
He’s going to fight like hell to not be Carter’s monster.
???
Carter startles awake when he feels someone touching his body. He gasps, trying to pull out of the person’s hold as his arm swings wildly. Faster than his sleepy brain can process, his wrists are pinned above his head and a hand is holding his jaw in a firm grip. Carter freezes, looking up at sir with wide eyes.
He just threw a punch at sir.
Oh god, he’s going to get punished.
“Don’t fight me,” sir orders, his brown eyes flashing dangerously. “You can’t fight me. That’s not okay. Do you understand?”
Carter nods rapidly, blinking away tears. “Yes, sir. I – I didn’t mean to, sir.”
“I know.” Sir releases his jaw and takes a step back, standing beside the bed as he watches Carter. He’s freshly showered, his hands tucked in the pockets of his navy blue suit pants, an expensive watch flashing on his wrist, every part of him perfectly in place and controlled despite them fighting just moments before. “It’ll get easier. Your mind will leave fight or flight mode eventually. Once you accept this. Once you accept me.”
Maybe sir means that to be comforting, but it’s not. It terrifies Carter that he might become complacent like that. He doesn’t want to break. He doesn’t want to accept this.
With a deep sigh, sir gestures towards the bathroom. “Go use the toilet, take a shower, clean yourself.Thoroughly,” he specifies, eyes narrowing at Carter to make it clear what he means. “Then come back in here and kneel at the foot of the bed.”
