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Chapter Nineteen
Carter is still awake when sir comes back to the bedroom, having been unable to sleep as his mind raced with the possibilities of what this party will be like tomorrow. He tries to pretend to be asleep, holding still and breathing evenly. He’s not sure if it works or not, but sir doesn’t say anything to him, which is something at least.
Something is off with sir, though. Carter can’t tell exactly what because he’s keeping his eyes closed, but sir is much louder than he usually is, and when he bumps into something and grunts an angry, “Fuck,” under his breath, he laughs right after.
Is sir… drunk? Again?
The bathroom door shuts a little too hard, and Carter hears something fall in the bathroom. He opens his eyes just enough to look at the door, seeing a sliver of light coming from the crack in the bottom. Carter takes a risk by sitting up in bed, hoping to be able to hear better.
Usually, when sir is in the bathroom at night, sir takes a shower. At least, that’s what Carter always assumed because the water always runs for a long time. But, sir isn’t showering tonight. He’s not using the sink either. There’s no water running. Nothing to drown out sir’s voice. He’s muffled, the door getting in the way and preventing Carter from hearing any actual words, but it’s clear he’s talking. From the sounds of it, he’s talking to someone on the phone.
Carter wonders if he talks on the phone to someone every night. He wonders if it’s the same person. He wonders what they mean to sir. He wonders if they’re special. Important. If sir maybe… loves them.
Not that Carter would care.
Hewouldn’t.
Sure, Carter is still thankful it was sir who bought him, one night with Todd was enough to help him realize how much worse things could be, but sir being the less of two evils doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still evil. Even if they did manage to have a great day together yesterday, it was just a day of playing pretend. It has to be that way. Sir has to be the villain.
It doesn’t matter if sir loves someone.
It’s not like Carter loves him.
Hedoesn’t.
Carter hates him.
Carterhasto hate him.
He just… has to.
Realizing the talking has stopped, Carter hurries to lay back down and close his eyes. He definitely doesn’t want to be caught eavesdropping, especially after the way sir had reacted this morning when he had assumed Carter was doing just that.
The bathroom door creaks open. Carter tries to keep his breathing slow and even. Sir is quieter now. Less clumsy. From the sound of things, he’s stripping, his clothes hitting the floor with soft thuds. Then the bed dips, and the blankets move. Carter accidentally tenses when the corner of the blanket slides across his ass, but he acts like he stirs in his sleep and sighs before relaxing again, hoping sir will believe that he’s still asleep.
“You awake?” sir asks softly. Carter takes a slow, even breath in. Then he blows it out. Sir moves on the bed again, the rest of the blanket coming up. It’s tucked gently around Carter’s body.
“There you go, sweetheart,” sir whispers softly once the blanket is where he wants it to be. He brushes Carter’s hair off his forehead, then strokes along his temple. A soft sound comes from somewhere in sir’s throat. Then his breath is fanning over Carter’s face, the smell of scotch overwhelming his senses. Lips brush the corner of Carter’s jaw before sir seems to deflate, pressing his forehead against Carter’s shoulder without putting any actual weight on him. He must be trying not to wake Carter up. “God, Carter, I wish I could save you from this.”
Carter tries his best to keep his breathing normal. He hopes sir can’t hear his heartbeat because it must be erratic.
“I wish I could save you fromme.” Sir pulls away, laying back on his side of the bed. He releases a slow, soft sigh, then whispers something Carter can’t even begin to understand. “You’d be so much better off with Travis. He’d be good to you. He’d know how to love you better…”
Sir goes quiet after that, eventually falling asleep. Carter stays awake for a long time. He must lay there for hours, wondering if sir meant what he had said. If he was really sorry. If he really wishes he could save Carter.
Wondering who the hell Travis is. Wondering if Travis really would be better. Wondering why there’s an ache in Carter’s chest at the mere thought of being with anyone but sir.
Wondering what sir meant by Travis loving himbetter, as if sir loves him too, just not as well as Travis would.
Carter finally drifts off at some point, damn near drowning in confusion.
???
Carter breaks one of his new rules within seconds of being awake the morning of the party.
Sir is shaking him, saying something about waking up, and Carter makes the mistake of blinking his eyes open to look directly at the man. He gets just a glimpse of messy hair and dangerous eyes before a hand is smacking against his cheek. It’s more of a surprise than it is painful, but Carter still gasps.
“Rules haven’t changed, pet,” sir says in a cold voice. “It’s going to be a hell of a night for you if you fuck up, remember?”
