Break the Chains

by Reis Asher

  Conrad reached for the phone, his mind clearer than it had been in months. He took the cordless handset into the kitchen and closed the door. There was a certain sense of freedom that washed away his fears as he marched to his doom with his eyes wide open. If he'd been stronger, maybe he would have been able to save Abby, but he'd never been brave enough to make the sacrifices she needed. Never been brave enough to say 'no' when she'd needed it, to work against her wishes for her own good. But he'd been given a second chance and this time he was going to get it right.

  A bored sounding receptionist picked up the phone on the other end after what seemed like ten minutes. "This is Hawt Gossip, can I help you?"

  "Yes, I'd like to speak with Christina Fisher, please." Conrad kept his voice low, as if he was some secret lover calling with his wife in the house, not the woman's father.

  "Christina? She hasn't worked here in months, sir."

  "Really?" Conrad raised his eyebrows. Fear shot through his veins, his detective instincts ringing alarm bells in his mind. Something was off. If she no longer worked for the magazine, then why was she—

  "Really. She got a new job selling contracts or something. Said it paid really well."

  "Do you know what company it was?" A dull thud dropped in his gut like a lead weight finally hitting the bottom of the ocean after a long journey down. She didn't have to say it. The voice in the back of his mind was already screaming 'The Circle'.

  "I don't know," the receptionist said tersely. "I really shouldn't be speaking about this to a stranger. Have a good day, sir." She hung up, leaving the long buzz of a dead phone line ringing in his ear. She got a new job selling contracts.

  He'd been sold out by his own daughter. The truth hit Conrad like a tidal wave, and he leaned on the telephone table, bent over like he'd been sucker punched.

  It all finally made sense. She'd lured him into a Circle membership on purpose. It had been easy to pull his strings, claiming she was having trouble going undercover to an auction. Of course he'd try to help her, and he had fallen for it. She'd known his weakness for pitiful people, his need to save those more vulnerable than himself.

  She'd known he'd leave with a slave. Knew he'd be unable to resist the allure of someone so utterly dependent on him. Knew he'd get himself in debt and a great deal of trouble, and that it would eventually lead to him selling himself into the business—and for his contract signing, she'd get a hefty commission on his sale price, no doubt. Probably enough to put her through college, another promise he'd meant to keep but had ultimately broken.

  He opened the kitchen door and glanced over at Avery, asleep on the couch, before closing the door and steeling his resolve. He wished they could just run. If it wasn't for the collar, Conrad would have woken him, but the Circle would do whatever it took to reclaim their lost property—even destroy the man he loved.

  Conrad had made his decision, and Christina's revelation changed nothing.

  He picked up the phone one more time, inhaling deeply, trying to still his shaking hands as he dialed Christina's cellphone number. Part of him wanted to call her out, but the risk of starting an argument was too great. If she clammed up on him, the deal might be lost. Her betrayal was irrelevant—if anything, it only made the logic of signing the contract even more sound. She'd be able to go to college. She'd be all right without him. He'd finally fulfill the promises he'd broken and go some way toward making up for her crappy childhood. HIs resentment quietly slipped away, forgiveness easier to find than he'd ever realized it could be.

  "Hi, Dad," Christina said.

  Conrad tried to keep his bitterness and sorrow out of his voice. "Bring the contract over, Chris. It's time to sign."

  *~*~*

  A heavy knock sounded on the front door. Conrad crept in from the kitchen and was startled by Avery scrambling off the couch.

  "Stay there," Conrad barked. Avery froze for a second before seemingly realizing he didn't have to obey. He crossed the room and stood in the doorway, blocking the only route to the front door.

  "What are you doing?" Avery asked. "We had a promise! Get the gun! Don't let me go back to them!" Conrad placed his hands on Avery's arms, looking into his eyes. He seized Avery's lips in a deep kiss, trying to reassure him, but Avery tore himself away and the terrified look in his saucer-wide eyes only confirmed to Conrad that he was doing the right thing.

  "Avery, listen to me!" Conrad shook him gently. "I'm not breaking my promise. I'm keeping it. I asked if you trusted me, and I need that trust now. I won't let you go back to the Circle. I swear it on my soul, on my life, on my love for you. No matter what happens in the next ten minutes, I need you to believe me."

  "Conrad, what's happening? I won't let you through until you tell me what's going on!"

  Conrad seized Avery, pulling him into a tight embrace before moving him aside. He reached the front door and opened it to see Christina standing with four no-nonsense men in black suits.

  "Come in." Conrad opened the door wide. Christina and the men stepped over the threshold, marching past a dumbfounded Avery, who stood with his mouth open wide. Conrad assumed he'd put the pieces together about who Christina was working for. He wanted to stop and reassure Avery, but his state of shock was useful. He needed to sign the contract before Avery realized what was happening and tried to stop him.

  Conrad swept the beer cans off the living room table, ignoring the sneers of the men in suits. Christina pulled out a folio and placed it on the table, unzipping the black leather to reveal a contract. She matter-of-factly pulled a pen out from the other side and offered it to Conrad.

  Conrad chanced a look over his shoulder at Avery, and instantly regretted it. His eyes bulged from their sockets. Tears streamed down his face, and he stood, frozen, as if he'd just witnessed Conrad's murder. His mouth was open as if he wanted to scream but time had frozen, suspending him in a vortex there was no escape from. The room was so silent Conrad would swear he could have heard a pin drop. He took the pen from Christina, carefully reading over the contract to make sure there were no loopholes that would damn them both. He thanked his experience with contracts from his job as a private investigator, back when he'd actually treated it like a serious money-making enterprise instead of being Garth's odd-jobs man.

  Time unfroze rather suddenly when he moved to put pen to paper. Avery screamed and lunged forward, desperate to knock the pen from his hands. The Circle men moved as one, rushing forward and taking one arm each, hauling Avery backwards.

  "NO!" Avery screamed. "Conrad, don't! Please! There has to be another way!"

  "There isn't," Conrad said, his voice choked with emotion. He couldn't bring himself to look at Avery. "I told you I was going to keep my promise." Conrad signed a half-assed signature with shaking hands. He closed his eyes and nodded before opening his eyes as a slave. Christina closed the folio, zipping it back up.

  The men beside Christina walked over to Avery, who had slumped in the arms holding him, the fight ebbing away. One pulled a device from his pocket and ran it over Avery's collar. The metal band fell off in his hand, revealing Avery's pale, unblemished throat. The one part of him no Master had been able to touch. Avery swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Conrad longed to kiss that throat, but Avery was a free man now, forever out of his reach.

  The men then approached Conrad with the collar in hand. A life for a life. He'd always have Avery's collar to remind him that the man he loved was now free.

  "Kneel!" One of the men kicked the back of his knee and Conrad buckled, falling to the ground. Avery flinched, seeming to find his zeal and struggled against the men still holding him. Conrad managed to right himself to a kneeling position and remained still as the men fastened Avery's collar around his throat, adjusting it so he could breathe before locking and sealing it forever.

  Conrad would die with that collar around his throat, but he couldn't be sorry about that, even as Avery looked him in the eye with a resentment and hatred so deep he was almost convinced of its a
uthenticity. Conrad looked away, stared down at the carpet.

  He wasn't supposed to look a free man in the eyes, anyway. He smiled despite himself. Regret would come later on, but for now there was only a deep sense of satisfaction running through his veins.

  "I'll take Avery home," Christina explained. "I'll make sure the Circle holds up their end of the deal."

  "You are the Circle," Avery spat. "I can't believe you did this to him! How could you sell your own father into slavery? How can you live with yourself?"

  "Quick to judge, aren't we? You sold yourself into slavery. He never would have had to make this sacrifice if not for your reckless stupidity. I looked up your file. You're nothing but a spoiled little rich kid. You grew up in a life of privilege, never knowing a moment of hardship. That was too boring for you. Too safe. You needed danger." Christina laughed, a bitter sound that was one half scoff. "I would have killed to have your life. Instead, I had a drug-addicted prostitute mother and a perverted, crooked cop father. I was a regular at the jailhouse, taking them home after he managed to worm his way out of another indecency rap or get her off a soliciting charge. The kids at school laughed at me—when I could attend, of course. I learned to get by on my own, without parents. Dad broke every promise he ever made. Imagine how it feels now to watch him finally make right on a promise, and it's not to me, but some guy he's been fucking senseless for a couple of months."

  Conrad hung his head. "I'm sorry."

  "Shut up, slave!" One of the Circle men kicked him in the ribs, and he sprawled to the ground, curling up on his side.

  "You're not sorry." Christina stood over him. "You made your choice. I made mine." She looked at Avery. "I don't expect you to understand. Just like I don't understand why he chose you over me. Why I'll never be good enough."

  Avery shook his head. "You're right. You don't understand. But I think I do. You're not wrong that Conrad's bad at keeping his promises—but he's spent his whole life trying. Do you think he hasn't suffered along the way? Do you think it was easy for him, losing the wife he loved to addiction? Do you honestly believe it didn't kill him not being able to be there for you because he had to get Abby out of jail again? Do you think he was never ashamed of his actions? Yet it was the only escape he had. The only thing that kept him going through all the dark years of his life were those encounters in public places with other men where a kindred spirit could make him feel wanted for a few brief moments."

  Conrad smiled. Avery got him, understood him like nobody other than Abby truly had, and even she'd had her moments of jealousy, rage and spite. What a treasure to lose, a soul that beat in time with his own, a man who knew him better than he knew himself.

  What a soul to have saved. Triumph spread through him as he got back to his knees. One of the Circle men attached a chain to his collar, and he went along without complaint, drinking in the sight of Avery, outraged and gorgeous, the tears still drying on his cheeks.

  He saved the memory of that face for the dark times ahead, watching Avery for as long as he dared as he was led past him and out the front door of his home for the last time.

  A white van awaited him, and he was bundled in the back, his collar chained to a bar on the wall to prevent his escape. Hell was about to open for business, but his heart sang at the knowledge that Avery had seen his truth and loved him anyway.

  Avery

  Avery said nothing as Christina drove through the city. It had been a long time since Avery had seen his father's headquarters, the looming Tulano Tower casting shadows over the docks where most of their money was made.

  He was going back. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He'd read the non-disclosure agreement carefully before signing and had been surprised that there had been no pitfalls or loopholes. He would be going back to his old life, no strings attached, so long as he kept quiet about where he'd been. The official story was quite simple: he'd been kidnapped by now-deceased enemies of his father and held for years in China against his will, waiting for a moment when he'd be useful as leverage. Adan Tulano had plenty of enemies in the shipping business. The story wasn't as far-fetched as it sounded, and his father would buy it, just to have him home again.

  He could barely bring himself to think of Conrad. The wound was too deep, too fresh. The thought of what the Circle would do to him made Avery want to scream and throw up. He couldn't believe Conrad had signed his life away out of love for him. It was too much to bear. He didn't deserve it. Christina was right: he'd been a dumb young rich kid who'd signed away a great life out of boredom. He'd been telling himself that for years, that he deserved his fate.

  Conrad had been the only one to ever argue otherwise. Avery wondered if he should have seen it coming, in hindsight. Conrad, so wracked with guilt every day about never being enough, surrounded by people who reinforced that belief. Conrad had been the one who needed saving all along, and Avery had failed him by being too lost in his own dire predicament to help.

  He was still lost. He was terrified, more than anything. His father would want the spoiled little brat back, and he was no longer that man. He was scarred, mentally and physically. Would Adan see that as weakness, or strength?

  Either way, Avery still wanted nothing to do with running his father's business. He could barely even function in the world. Even the daylight that shone through the car windows was too much, making him squint. The thought of sitting in boardrooms, making decisions that could lose or gain millions of dollars, made him tremble. He couldn't use people as the means to make a profit—it reminded him too much of slavery.

  Conrad. Always there, like a ghost sitting with him, comforting and frightening at the same time. He may as well be a ghost. An older man like Conrad would find his way to an organ farm sooner rather than later. Or worse. Avery tried not to think about worse.

  "Pull over." Avery said. He barely opened the door in time to vomit on the shoulder. He emptied his stomach of its contents, a desperate sob escaping with his lunch.

  "Pull yourself together," Christina chided. "You're going home."

  "You really have no idea, do you? What slavery truly means." Avery slammed the car door, pulling on his seatbelt. "You just sell contracts and pocket the money. You don't think about what happens to the poor suckers you rope in."

  "You're just jealous that he'll be servicing some other man sexually, and that he'll love it. That he'll forget about you."

  "God, you really have no idea, do you?" Avery lifted his shirt, exposing his pattern of scars. Christina turned away, blanching at the sight.

  "Look at me," Avery demanded. " This one is where the organ farm took my kidney. The scar here is where a man used a drill on me for his own sexual pleasure. Here is where they broke my ribs with a beating. A few knife scars—one of my Masters really liked knife play. And these are just a few of my physical scars. You have no idea what I see every night when I close my eyes. Being told to kill. Watching as others were killed. Tortured. Raped. Is it too much for you to acknowledge you sold your father into that? Were you expecting a warm fireplace, a slave gently sucking on his Master's cock like he really wants it?"

  "Stop it," Christina snapped. "I did what I had to. Do you think I enjoyed it?"

  "Did what you had to? Nobody has to sell their own father into slavery. Make no mistake: Conrad will die in their custody. Older men aren't valued by Masters. Everyone wants a puppy when they go to the pound. Do you know that slaves at the end of their useful lives often get sold for snuff porn, and murdered on set? Or go to the Master to be hunted down like wild animals?"

  Christina paled, and he could see her hands trembling.

  "Don't play the innocent. I was there when Conrad spelled it out to you. Your first visit. Don't you remember?"

  "I thought he was playing it up, trying to justify his purchase. I had no idea he was actually telling the truth."

  "Bullshit!" Avery slumped in his seat. "Fucking bullshit…" He wiped away the angry tears that rolled down his face, ashamed of his weakness. A st
ronger man would do something in this situation, would figure out a way to get Conrad back, but the Circle scared the shit out of him. All he wanted to do was run away and keep running until he never had to hear about modern slavery again.

  But that would mean leaving Conrad to his fate.

  "What do you want me to do, Avery? Sweep in on a white horse and save him? Nobody goes up against the Circle and wins. They're too big. Too powerful."

  "I don't need to bring the Circle down. I just need to help him," Avery said.

  "So just fucking buy him, Avery. Your dad is the owner of a multinational trading business. Something tells me you can afford the Circle dues—hell, you could probably afford to buy out his fucking contract if you wanted."

  Avery laughed. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he guffawed. How had the obvious, glaring solution been hovering in front of his face the entire time without him seeing it?

  "Do you trust me?" Conrad's words hovered in his thoughts. Trust. He'd never quite given his full trust until the end, but Conrad had no such reservations. Conrad was trusting him now, placing his fragile, precious life in Avery's hands and hoping he would do the right thing.

  "You need to find out where he's going. I need to know by the end of the day where he's going to be sold."

  "Look, Avery, I want to help you, but I've exhausted all my Circle favors just getting Dad that contract. Negotiating your freedom wasn't easy when all the cards were in their hands. If it wasn't for your father fishing around, raising hell that you might not be dead after all and coming too close to the truth, you wouldn't be sitting here right now because they would have simply taken you both."

  "Fine. Your currency is money, right? I'll pay you. Twice what your commission was for selling Conrad."

  "With what money? Are you honestly going to walk into your father's home and start demanding cash? You were declared dead, Avery. Your assets are gone. Your fancy foreign sports car was auctioned off. Your shares in the company were distributed amongst the board of directors. You can't say a thing about where you've been or what you need the money for. You might be able to buy Conrad eventually, but don't start throwing money around like you own the world."