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Chapter Eighteen
Theeventhasafew simple rules. No weapons. No unauthorized guests. No minors. Phones are allowed, since Nathan can just block the signals when it's time to move. Armed security is allowed to be outside the building in vehicles, but no roaming with weapons. The area is secured. No civilians should come within 3 miles of the building, but it's best not to tempt fate.
The drug the director snuck into the building for Nathan is liquid, clear, with no scent. There's supposed to be no taste as well, but Nathan won't be trying that out. A single drop is enough to cause loss of consciousness and delirium. 3 drops is enough to kill a man. The director suggests 6 drops per drink. The 10 undercover agents that will be milling around - 4 as staff slaves, 6 as guests - will have syringes on hand for any guest who doesn't drink during the toast. 3 snipers up in the rafters will handle strays.
The 2 units outside will handle anyone that manages to spill out the doors – after they dispatch the security out there of course.
People are encouraged to bring their own slaves.
Nathan checks his weapons for the 5th time. The 3 knives - one on the left ankle, one in a waistband sheath, one strapped to his forearm. The 3 guns - one on the right ankle, one tucked into the back of his waistband, one in the shoulder holster. All 6 weapons are hidden by his suit. So is the pack of syringes filled with the mystery killing drug and the pack of syringes filled with the antidote to the mystery killing drug in case a slave ingests it.
He has a panic button on his watch. If he holds it for 3 seconds,somethingwill happen. The director didn't clarify what exactly. Just that it's a last resort, and it'll guarantee that things are finished. It won't be pretty or clean, and not everyone innocent will survive, but things will at least be finished one way or another. Considering Carter is an innocent that Nathan is pretty fucking determined to keep alive, he doesn't plan on pressing that button unless Carter is halfway to death already.
“You ready?” Carter asks.
“Yes.” Nathan adjusts his bow tie a final time. Then he turns and looks at the boy kneeling at his feet. "Are you? This is your first time attending one of these fucked up things in your Carter headspace."
“I told you, I want to be able to help if you need it. I don’t want to be foggy at all.”
“I know. I'm not trying to change your mind." Nathan shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out and stroking Carter's hair like he wants to. That's not allowed. Not if they're sticking to Nathan and Carter. Hair petting is for sir and pet.Fuck, will they ever do that again? Will they ever get a chance to be those versions again?If all goes well, Carter will be with Maison tonight. He'll be at the safehouse. He won't be Nathan's responsibility anymore. Most importantly, they won't have anyone to pretend for. No reason for Carter to ever be in the slave mindset again. No reason for Nathan to ever be his sir again.
Nathan might not ever be Carter’s sir again.
“Are you okay?”
Nathan blinks. Carter is still on his knees, now frowning at him. “Me? I’m fine. Ready.”
“You just – you looked… I don’t know.” Carter fiddles with the fancy collar around his throat. “You seemed sad, is all.”
“No.” Nathan forces a smile. “I’m fucking ready for this case to be over, is what I am.”
Carter’s blue eyes flick away for just a second before he looks back up at Nathan. He smiles. It looks just as forced as Nathan’s. “Me too. Ready for it to be over.”
There’s a double knock on the room door before Benny sticks his head in. “Ready?”
No. Fuck. Nathan can’t lose him. He’s not fucking ready to lose him.
“Ready.”
It’s harder than Carter expected it to be, seeing Maison up on the stage. He's naked, wrists and ankles strapped to a sturdy bondage chair, a red ball gag in his mouth. Nathan's men had gotten the party set up - just like with his birthday party, it would have been strange for him to be the first one at the event. He had told the men not to do any real damage, but the torso covered in red splotches and the bleeding nose and forehead show that they still had fun.
When Maison sees Carter for the first time, the sound he makes is… gut wrenching. It's not an act. Even with the knowledge he has of the operation, even though he knows Nathan's plan to hurt them both beyond repair tonight isn't going to happen, the grief he feels is very real. The anger and frustration. The guilt. Carter feels every ounce of it all, vibrating in the air. If the gag was out of his mouth, it'd be earsplitting.
Carter and Nathan agreed that Carter could misbehave for a moment. A single weakness when he first sees his brother. He does it now, lurching forward, a scream escaping him that matches his brother's emotions. He only goes as far as his leash allows. When he falls back to his knees, hands clutching at his collar as he gasps from being choked, he sobs, "Maison!"
Nathan grabs a fistful of his hair as people laugh and jeer. Someone goes to Maison on the stage and says something in his ear that makes Maison jerk and scream into his gag.
Nathan squats down beside Carter, keeping his grip on his hair tight. Carter's eyes burn as he's forced to look Nathan in the eyes. The man's eyes flash for just a second - a moment he gives Carter as reassurance, as areminder- before going cold. "He's going to be dead by the end of the night, little slave. If you don't want to join him, remember your place."
Carter sobs again -because who wouldn't when told that?- but quickly gathers himself and nods. "S-sorry, sir. I'll be good sir. So good for you. I didn't mean to."
“I know. I know you didn't. My good little slut." Nathan sneers at him. Carter can sense people watching them. Listening to them. In the distance, he thinks he can hear Maison's muffled scream. "Who do you belong to? Your brother, or me?"
“You, sir,” Carter says without hesitation. He doesn't let himself dwell on how easy that was, considering he's not in the slave mindset. He doesn't have time for shit like that tonight. "I belong to you."
“If I let you pick, would you choose me?”
Carter hesitates just a moment, like any slave would. “Y-yes, sir.”
