[Measure of Devotion 02.0] Measure of Strength

by Caethes Faron

  How long had he been standing outside the office door? Jason could have closed his eyes and reproduced that door with the tarnished doorknob and chipped wood at the bottom in perfect detail. He had stared at it long enough. On the other side of that door was Kale. The thought was incomprehensible. It had been so long since Jason had last seen him. Yet, in some ways, it seemed like hardly a day had passed since he had watched another door close and separate him from Kale, seemingly forever.

  “Sir?”

  This time, Jason turned and looked at Martin. His secretary’s furrowed brow reminded him of what a sight he must be. The amount of effort it took to focus his eyes on Martin was evidence of the vacant look that must have been on his face. As he closed his parted lips, he tasted the sweat trickling down his face. For the first time, he noticed his hand flexing, his fingers dancing for a bottle. If there was ever a time that Jason needed a drink, it was now. Even at his lowest, in the dark, drunk nights, the one hope that had kept him from going over the edge was that he had saved Kale.

  Jason cleared his throat and spoke. “Could you get me a glass of water, Martin? The air on the floor has dried out my throat.”

  “Of course, sir.” While his tone was businesslike, Jason didn’t miss the look in Martin’s eyes that clearly said he wasn’t buying Jason’s attempt at normalcy.

  The cool glass of water in his hand made Jason realize how hot he was. Was this normal? The mill was always hot, but there was more to the red flush on his skin and the sweat at his brow. The racing of his heart hadn’t slowed for a moment since he’d seen Kale. Surely, this couldn’t be healthy.

  As he drank, he tried to concentrate on the feeling of the water going through his body, willing it to calm him. Everything was going to be all right. This was Kale. Any anger he had toward Jason was deserved. He would take it, and then he would move on.

  Finally, there came the moment when the need to see Kale overrode every fear and anxiety. Only then did Jason set the glass down and reach for the door. His body was drawn forward of its own accord, and Jason knew that no matter what happened, he was going to see Kale, and that made it all worthwhile.

  One moment he was watching the door open, and the next he was looking at Kale. There he was, standing in the middle of the room, facing the entry with his head bowed so low Jason couldn’t see his face. It was naïve to suppose that Kale would lift his head and look at Jason the way he used to.

  He doesn’t know it’s me.

  The thought hit Jason with such force that it momentarily took his breath away. No one had used his name, and Kale hadn’t seen him. Did he not feel the same electricity Jason did? Of course not. While Jason’s heart was full of love, Kale’s held no such emotion.

  It was tempting to speak and make himself known, but years of cunning led him to think before he spoke. There was a momentary advantage to keeping his identity secret. This was a unique opportunity to simply gaze at Kale. Once he knew he was standing with Jason, there would be issues to address. For now, Jason could look at him in relative peace.

  It was hard to find much familiarity in Kale’s appearance. How much of that was due to his physicality and how much to his mannerisms? Jason walked around him, eyeing him up and down. There was not an ounce of fat on him. Kale’s diet was lacking, that was apparent. Toned muscles covered his bones, but just barely. With the work he was doing, he should have had more bulk. All these changes were catalogued and filed away in Jason’s mind. Later, when he was alone, Jason would pull them up again and wallow in his guilt over having done this to Kale.

  The gasp that escaped Jason’s mouth when he came to Kale’s back was unnaturally loud in the quiet room. In front of him was a tangled mess of flesh. Scar tissue marred the beautiful skin Jason remembered. These were not the faint, thin lines that had striped Kale’s back when Jason first acquired him. These were deep, wide, and in such a pattern that led Jason to believe it was from several beatings.

  Jason’s eye was drawn to the first movement Kale had made since Jason entered. At the sound of Jason’s gasp, Kale’s right hand had started to fidget, rubbing his thigh.

  In an odd way, it was the most disturbing thing Jason had seen all day. The nervous gesture was out of character for the calm and assured man Jason had known. The physical differences could be healed, but this was indicative of a much more vexing change. In that one action, Jason saw the depths of the damage he had done.

  When Jason moved back in front of Kale, he started to fidget himself. His fingers were itching to caress Kale’s face, to lift his head and look into the eyes he saw every time he closed his own. But it wasn’t his place; Kale wasn’t his lover. That lesson had been well learned, Kale had made sure of it during their last days together. But what could Jason say? The only thing he had been thinking when he called Kale here was to get him off the work floor. Kale wouldn’t want to see him or talk to him, but Jason liked to think that he was a better option than the work Kale had been doing.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” It was the only thought Jason could articulate. It summed up everything he had been thinking and feeling.

  “I’m sor—” There was nothing familiar about the dry, raspy voice. The apology came to Kale’s lips like a reflex, but when his brain caught up to the sound of Jason’s voice, he looked up for the first time. Those beloved green eyes widened before quickly looking back down at the same time as his hand began to rub more furiously at his leg. Kale’s eyes had shown shock, anger, and—did Jason imagine—longing?

  “No, Kale. Don’t. I only meant that you shouldn’t be doing this type of work. This isn’t the life you were meant to have.”

  Silence answered Jason. Kale didn’t move other than that damned nervous tic with his hand.

  “Please, sit down. I’m sure you could use the rest.” Again there was nothing. Only more fidgeting. It was clear that Jason was making Kale uncomfortable.

  “Sit down, Kale. I own this mill. I hired the company that owns you now. You’re not going to get in trouble.” It made Jason ill to see how hesitant Kale was to take a seat. Finally, he complied, balancing on the edge of the plainest chair in the room. His frame was so rigid that there was no rest in his posture.

  Just as he had been overcome with the need to see Kale, Jason was now overcome with the need to leave. It wasn’t because of the difficulty in seeing Kale like this, in seeing this empty shell of the man he had loved so fiercely that his chest hurt. It was because, in that room, he couldn’t do anything to fix it, and he needed to fix it. “Stay here for a moment. I’m going to have my secretary bring you a glass of water. You’re to drink all of it. He won’t hurt you.” Hopefully leaving Kale would also allow him to relax some.

  In the outer office, he found Martin waiting for him, far enough from the door for Jason to know he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

  “Martin, bring him some water and leave him alone to drink it.” Jason didn’t make eye contact as he spoke. His mind was moving too fast for his eyes to focus on any one thing.

  “Where are you going, sir?” Martin’s guarded expression made Jason stop and think. He must look a mess to others, and where was he going? Nothing good would come from storming around the mill ranting, although it was tempting. And then it came to him. His course unfolded in front of him.

  “I’m going to talk to Pernicky.”

  Chapter Twelve

  When the door closed behind Jason, Kale looked up. What had just happened? For a moment, he gazed at the spot where Jason had stood. Had he really been there? Ever since Kale was assigned to work at the mill, he’d known Jason owned it, but it had never crossed his mind that he might actually see Jason. Why would he? He had just taken it as one of the ironies of his life—a sick joke the gods saw fit to play—and left it at that.

  Outside, there were footsteps, and Kale snapped to his feet, automatically lowering his head again. The same man who had brought him to the office entered and held out a glass of water.

  “Here, sit and drink this
.”

  Kale reached for the glass. Water was one thing he would never turn away. Thirst was a constant companion, and it was hot as hell in the mill. As soon as Kale had the glass firmly in his hands, Jason’s secretary left.

  He had a secretary. That man was part of Jason's life. It was strange to think of the people who must populate Jason’s life who Kale didn’t know anything about.

  After he was done with the water, he sat and rolled the glass in his hands. It felt good to be off his feet, but it wasn’t entirely restful. He was poised on the edge of his seat, ready to jump up as soon as anyone else entered the room. In an odd twist, his mind was blank. There were too many things to think about, too many emotions to feel, and instead of delving into the abyss, his mind simply stayed out of it. In all likelihood, he would be sent back down to the floor in a little while, and life would go on. It could be dangerous to start down a line of thought that would prove distracting.

  The minutes ticked by, and Kale began to wonder if he had been forgotten. While the thought of staying quietly in the office was appealing, there would be consequences that Kale shuddered to think about if he was being missed somewhere. There wasn’t much he could do about it, though. He had been ordered to stay, so he would.

  More footsteps outside the door sent Kale scrambling to his feet, barely remembering to hold on to the empty glass. The same secretary entered again and threw a shirt at him. Kale caught it without understanding its purpose.

  “Mr. Wadsworth has purchased you. You’re to travel to Perdana with us straightaway.”

  The world was spinning. The floor had opened up, yet refused to swallow him. A hand took the glass, and he was led to the front of the mill.

  Once out of the office, Kale’s thoughts caught up with his body. What was wrong with that son of a bitch? Couldn’t Jason just let him be? The anger built in him until he was outside the mill standing in front of a carriage. With Jason and his secretary.

  Kale’s throat began to constrict, and his chest tightened. How long was the ride to Perdana? It didn’t matter. Any amount of time in such close quarters with Jason was enough to leave Kale gasping for air. Nothing Jason could do would make him travel in there with them.

  “You may ride on the rear luggage rack.” It was the secretary speaking. Of course, they wouldn’t want Kale riding in the carriage with them. It wasn’t his place.

  A movement to the side drew Kale’s eye. Jason was getting ready to speak, and Kale could guess his intention. Raising his head under the pretense of nodding his understanding of the secretary’s order, Kale suffused his face with as much gratitude as he knew how to show. Thankfully, Jason decided not to comment and instead climbed into the carriage, followed by his secretary. As soon as Kale shrugged his shirt on and sat in his place, they were off.

  It was a hot day, but the wind felt cool against Kale’s skin, and his body reflexively relaxed even as his mind whirled. Watching the mill fade into the distance, he knew that his days of hard labor were over, at least for the moment. In Perdana, he would face a different battle than the one he had fought and grown accustomed to over the past three years. There would no longer be a struggle to make his body keep going when he felt he was being pushed past endurance. It would be his mind that would be pushed once they reached Perdana, and he didn’t know if it was up for the challenge. Ever since Jason had sold him, Kale had tried to lock his mind away—it was the easiest way to get through each day. He had never been entirely successful, but as his body had grown strong under the constant labor, his mind had grown weak from neglect.

  Riding through the countryside with nothing for his body to do, his mind was set free and questions tumbled in. How would Renee react to seeing him? She and Jason had planned to marry shortly after Kale was sold, which meant it was likely they had a baby or two. The thought of Jason as a father was strange. He was probably good at it.

  Those were exactly the kind of thoughts he needed to control. He didn’t know Jason. Not anymore.

  Besides, Kale hated Jason Wadsworth. Now more than ever.

  It had been hard enough the first time, convincing Jason that Kale didn’t have feelings for him, convincing Jason that Kale viewed him as nothing more than a master to be serviced. He had never gone so far as to call Jason a rapist, but he hadn’t done anything to disavow Jason of that notion once he got it in his head.

  It had been the hardest thing Kale had ever done. He knew what he was getting into, and he had prepared himself for it. Then Jason came back and, once again, tipped his world upside down. Why couldn’t he just let Kale be? Let him move on? Let him live out his miserable life? Instead, Jason insisted on playing with him. How long would Jason keep him in Perdana? How long until he was sold again? What was Jason going to do to him?

  These were all questions he couldn’t answer. He had no control over what would happen to him. There was no point thinking about it. That concession was all his mind needed in order to join his body in relaxing. Perhaps he would just close his eyes for a minute. He had no idea how long it would take to reach Perdana, but it was surely long enough to get a little sleep. As Kale closed his eyes, his mind wandered to inside the carriage. What were Jason and his secretary doing now? Were they sleeping too? Probably. Was Jason snoring like he used to? Kale smirked. Probably.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Silence was not a new thing between Martin and Jason, but in the confines of the carriage after the odd scene that had just played out, it was unsettling. Watching Jason gaze out the window with a faraway look in his eyes, Martin could almost see the cogs working in his employer’s brain. Was Jason really just going to stay silent, pretend as if it was customary to bring home a labor slave every time they went to the mill, like a souvenir?

  Martin opened his mouth to speak, but Jason beat him to it. “You didn’t have to make him sit on the luggage rack.”

  Was that what was under Jason’s skin? “He looked grateful. It’s probably cooler out there anyway, with the breeze. When he saw you standing at the door of the carriage like you expected him to join us, he looked terrified that he would dirty it up.”

  “Yes, terrified is exactly how he looked.” A pained grimace flashed across Jason’s face. “I had hoped after all these years, he wouldn’t be so afraid.”

  The last part surprised Martin, but he was already beginning to ask a question by the time Jason’s words registered. “Why did you buy a labor slave in the first place? And one from the mill?”

  Jason looked at Martin for the first time since they’d left. “He’s not a labor slave. He used to be a personal valet.”

  “How do you know that? Do you have a history with this slave?” As Martin leaned forward, waiting for an answer, Jason looked away. The shame in his eyes piqued Martin’s curiosity even more.

  “Yes, Kale and I definitely have a history.”

  The words knocked the wind out of Martin, and he sank back in his seat. “That’s Kale?”

  Jason was not forthcoming with an answer, but it didn’t matter, Martin probably wouldn’t have heard him anyway. In his head, pieces were beginning to fall into place. The drunken nights, the anguished mutterings of Kale’s name, the shame he saw on Jason’s face. This latest bit of information provided a crucial piece of the puzzle, but it didn’t come anywhere close to revealing the full picture. Once this new tidbit was filed away, Martin was flooded with questions.

  “When did you own him?” Jason was looking out the window again and didn’t even acknowledge that he heard Martin. “When did you sell him?” Still nothing. “Why does he have this effect on you? He’s only a slave.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  No, of course it wasn’t. Martin was merely the person tasked with cleaning up the mess after this Kale had gone. He was the one who had to deal with Jason’s moods, depressions, drinking. Just as Martin was about to retort that Jason had made it his business, Jason turned back to him.

  “And Kale is more than a slave. I don’t want him t
reated as one. You’re to give him the red guest bedroom on the second floor with the en suite bathroom so he can have some privacy. And he has free run of the house. I want him to rest and get better. He shouldn’t look like that.” Jason’s eyes got a faraway look again, and Martin wondered how he remembered Kale. When Jason began to speak again, his voice was softer and more timid. “I did terrible things to him, Martin. Things I can never atone for. But I can do this. I can save him from working hard labor, and I’m going to do it.”

  It was more of an admission than Martin had expected, but it still left him wanting. Treat a slave as a guest? It was absurd, even for his often eccentric employer. Even though Jason could be callous and uncaring at times, Martin had a hard time imagining him doing anything terrible. It wasn’t in him.

  “The guest bedroom, sir? We have quite comfortable slave quarters in the basement. I’m sure after what he’s used to it will be luxurious.” Having a slave living in the main part of the house was a breech in decorum that Martin had a hard time stomaching.

  “No, Martin.” Jason’s temper flared. “He’s a guest in my home. You’re to treat him as one.”

  “But it’s not appropriate.”

  “Fuck it, Martin. I don’t give a damn about what is appropriate. If you feel you can’t follow my orders, then you are welcome to leave.”

  Never before had Jason been so hostile while sober. Why should he care so much for a slave? Even one he felt he had abused in some way? Surely getting him away from the mill and putting him to work in an upper class home was more than adequate.

  Perhaps, once Kale was settled in, Martin could coax more of the story out of him. Martin tried to think about this new addition to their household, but he had a hard time conjuring up a picture of him in his mind. Before he’d known who Kale was, he had paid him the same mind as he did any other slave—which wasn’t much.

  How would Kale’s presence affect Jason’s already volatile moods? Would Kale be the key to locking the depressive episodes away? One look at Jason brooding told Martin that the answer was no. If anything, it seemed Kale would act as a catalyst, and Martin worried that the worst was yet to come.