He hated the idea that Paul didn’t want him anymore because Fahey had used him, but other than that first night when Danny had melted down in Paul’s comforting arms, the guy hadn’t touched him. No hugs, no kisses, no cuddling on the couch or in bed. Every night, Paul had stuck to his end when they sat watching television or his side when they retired, practically rolling off the mattress in his sleep. At first, Danny thought Paul wanted to avoid causing Danny more pain. Over a week later, there was no denying it indicated disgust. Being the great guy he was, Paul obviously didn’t have the heart to just toss Danny aside. But things couldn’t go on this way. Not for long.
Danny didn’t want to burden his father with this particular problem. Maybe he could talk to Oliver about it later. The slave had good insight into the workings of freemen’s minds. He gave his father another quick hug.
“I guess we should both get to work. See you at lunch?”
His father gave him a quick nod, ruffled Danny’s hair and went on his way. Danny did, too, his footsteps slowing as he entered the woodshop area. Like with the warehouse, he took a second to savor the familiar smells and the sounds. Making something out of wood soothed his nerves. Mr. Fiorello spotted him first and ambled over. His expression betrayed nothing of what he thought of Danny returning to work or being a few minutes late to boot. His words, though, spoke volumes.
“Welcome back, kid. I left your project alone. Told the client they’d have to wait until our best man came back to finish it. Better hop to it. They want it by Wednesday.”
The normalcy of the man’s tone, the inherent praise in his simple words, eased Danny’s worry. If nothing else, he had this, a skill, a purpose, a reason to get up in the morning and tackle the day. “Yes, sir, right away, and thank you.”
Fiorello swiped his palm over the top of Danny’s head in a kindly gesture before veering off to continue his own work. Danny went over to his project and gazed at the cabinet he’d been working on when the shit had hit the fan with Fahey. In fact, he still didn’t have the hardware he needed. A spike of fear shot up his spine at the thought of leaving the safety of Mr. Fiorello’s returning until he remembered that Fahey was gone. The new supervisor seemed like a nice man and even if he weren’t, Fahey’s firing had to have made an impression on everyone. Master Ben wouldn’t tolerate his employees exploiting his slaves and that was that. He hoped.
“Hey.” Oliver’s arms encircled Danny and pulled him into a hug almost as tight as the one Big John had given him. “It’s good to have you back.”
After returning the gesture and drawing comfort from his friend for a few seconds, Danny said, “It’s good to be back.”
The boys stood for a while with Oliver’s arm slung over Danny’s shoulder, admiring the unfinished piece. “Mr. Fiorello put his foot down with the customer about having someone else finish it, you know?”
“So he said. It was nice of him.”
“Nice nothing,” Oliver scoffed. “You’re the best person for the job.”
Danny knew better. Oliver had become just as skilled as Danny and of course, Fiorello could have finished the thing in his sleep. He slid away from his friend. “Well, I better get to it, then. I need the hardware.”
“Okay, I’ll come with you.”
Danny shot the other slave a skeptical look. “Don’t you have your own work? I don’t need a babysitter.”
Oliver shrugged. “Ben told me to look out for you.”
Not wanting to waste any more time, Danny headed to the storage area. Oliver fell into step beside him. “I’m not going to fall apart, or anything,” he insisted, even knowing he wouldn’t dissuade Oliver from staying with him. “This isn’t where the bad memories are anyway.” He winced inwardly. “I guess you know what happened.”
“Yeah,” Oliver confirmed in a quiet voice. “Ben and I tell each other everything, and I picked him up at the motel. He was really upset, blames himself for not canning Fahey months ago. He suspected the man drank and knew he didn’t like following Ben’s rules about treating the slaves well.”
“It wasn’t his fault.” Danny meant it.
The only guilty person was Fahey himself and he remained in jail. Paul had told him that the guy would stay locked up until his trial and spend a lot of years in prison for theft, destruction of property and drug possession. Fucking Danny was what brought the destruction of property charge because, of course, the law didn’t recognize raping a slave. Paul hadn’t said that, but Danny knew it to be true. Paul had barely mentioned how Fahey had spent a couple of days in the hospital because of a severe concussion.
Danny stopped and drew Oliver behind a stack of lumber. “Ben tells you everything?” When Oliver nodded, Danny worked to find the courage to broach the thing that bothered him. “Did he tell you about Fahey getting hit on the head with a lamp?”
Oliver stepped closer and looked at Danny intensely. “He told me that when Master Graham entered the room and saw what Fahey was doing to you, he hit him with a lamp, knocking him unconscious.”
Shaking his head, Danny said, “That’s not….”
“Master Graham hit Fahey,” Oliver repeated, his voice firm and his gaze fierce. “Ben said the police and the district attorney, the person who brings charges against people, understand that Master Graham had sufficient provocation for what he did. He’s in the clear, which is all that matters, right?”
Reluctantly, Danny nodded. Of course he understood how important it was to maintain that Paul had done the deed. No slave would be allowed to get away with hitting a free person like that even if that free person was choking the life out of the slave. Forget fifty strokes, it would mean instant deportation to a mine or somewhere else guaranteed to cut the slave’s life down to a few years, if that. Assuming he didn’t get euthanized immediately for being dangerous. No, Oliver was right. The story had to stay as is. Danny half believed it was the truth already, given how blurry his memories of those last few minutes were.
He decided to give Oliver and himself a break and changed the subject while they continued on their way. “So, you can drive?”
“Sure. Ben taught me months ago and got me registered as a chauffeur. He also signed a stack of permission slips for me to be out on my own. I just date one and take it with me in case anyone stops and questions me.”
“That’s so cool. Being able to just go out when you want must be awesome.”
“It is. You should ask Master Graham to do the same for you. I bet he would. He’s really into you.”
Danny gave his friend a wan smile. “I’m sure he would if he were going to keep me.”
Grabbing Danny’s arm, Oliver was the one now to pull them off the beaten path. “Whoa, what?”
Danny shrugged, trying to make it look like no big deal, even when his fears about Paul swamped him and threatened to make him break down and cry. “Since—you know—happened, he doesn’t want me.”
“That can’t be. Why would you think that?”
He looked down, again trying to hide his mounting misery. “Because he hasn’t touched me since that night.”
Oliver scoffed. “Of course not. He’s trying to be considerate. Fahey must have really hurt you,” he added, his voice catching.
“Not that badly,” Danny replied, his own voice going a little wobbly. “And I don’t mean just sex. He doesn’t hold me or anything, like he can’t stand to touch me.”
Oliver slid his arm around Danny and pulled him in close. “I’m sure it’s not that. I bet, like Ben, he’s feeling responsible for what happened and trying to give you space.”
Danny shook his head. “I’d like to think so and did at first. Each day he kept his distance made me realize it’s more than that.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I think he sees me as dirty. I know I can’t stop thinking of myself that way no matter how many showers I take a day.”
“Jesus,” Oliver sighed. “You’re not. If being raped by a random guy makes you dirty, how disgusting must I be after dozens of guys have shove
d their dicks up my ass?”
Danny’s eyes popped open. “What? No, I didn’t mean that.” Shit, sometimes he forgot Oliver’s background.
“I know you didn’t. It’s still true that before Ben, I had serviced more people than I even remember, including Ben’s father. Maybe it’s different for me because at the training center, they didn’t give me time or opportunity feel anything. I went into survival mode, doing whatever I could to please them to keep from being punished. By the time I became Master Tanner’s property, I was resigned to being a pleasure slave. I just hoped he’d be kind to me.”
“He wasn’t.” Danny had experienced enough with the man to know that much.
Oliver’s face turned grim. “No, he wasn’t.” His expression brightened, became almost smug. “But Ben is. He desires me and loves me regardless of my past. He doesn’t see me as something dirty. Believe me. Except in a good way,” he added with a smirk that helped to lighten the mood.
Danny tried to follow suit, mostly failing. The subject of Paul’s feelings for him left him too raw. “Ben’s relationship with you is special. You’re not really a slave to him, are you?”
“No, you’re right. Ben sees me as a lover, not a slave. I thought Master Graham treated you the same way. I think you’re selling him short here.”
“You may be right.” Danny couldn’t put much conviction in his voice because he didn’t feel any. Despite the way his relationship had grown with Paul in the few short weeks they’d been together, he couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that Paul couldn’t look past Fahey’s use of Danny’s body. A bit of resentment twisted its way through Danny’s sadness. Why couldn’t Paul get over it? It wasn’t fair. Then again, life for a slave wasn’t. The mistake Danny had made was allowing himself to accept the fantasy that he and Paul were boyfriends.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said with a shrug, sorry he’d brought the whole matter up. Oliver didn’t need to worry about Danny’s crap. “It is what it is.”
“Bullshit. Do you want me to ask Ben to talk to him?”
“God, no!” When Oliver winced, Danny added, “Sorry. No. Thanks, but no.” The last thing he wanted was to make Paul feel even worse about not wanting him anymore. His affection for the man far outweighed his irritation. “Come on. We’ve wasted way too much time on my pity party. We have work to do.”
“Okay, you’re right. Mr. Fiorello’s patience isn’t unlimited. You know you can talk to me about anything, though, right?”
Danny punched Oliver in the arm. “Yeah, of course I do. Now come on before we end up at the whipping post.”
Oliver laughed as Danny intended him to. It was a good sound. Danny needed to get back to normal and diving into work with his friend at his side was the perfect first step.
****
Pulling up to the Tanner Lumber warehouse, Paul’s stomach was tied up in knots. He’d spent his day with only half his mind on his work, worried about how Danny was handling his first day back. Although he’d purchased him a new phone, he hadn’t wanted to constantly text asking him how things were going. The urge to do just that had been strong. He managed to keep it to just one text during what he knew to be the slaves’ lunch break. Danny’s answer to how are things going? had been a frustratingly short fine.
As he rounded the side of the parking lot where Danny always waited for him, the boy stood in his usual spot, chatting with Oliver. Paul let out a sigh of relief. Everything appeared to be okay. No signs of stress marred Danny’s adorable face. He wore an animated expression and his body language indicated he felt relaxed. But when he saw Paul’s truck, his mood changed in a subtle way that Paul detected readily enough. The slave became more subdued, guarded even, and that kicked at Paul’s heart. He’d been trying so hard to be careful with the boy, mindful of how horrible the ordeal with Fahey had been. The last thing the slave needed was a master looming over him.
Nothing seemed to work, though. Except for the first night when Danny had clung to Paul and sobbed his heart out, he hadn’t given any sign that he wanted Paul anywhere near him. A wariness clung to his eyes and his body seemed to turn inward as if warding off a blow. He’d prowled around the house, looking for something to do, distractions Paul figured, ways to keep the bad memories at bay. Paul had practically had to sit on him to keep him from working. Paul wanted Danny’s body and mind to have time to heal. He wanted him to relax, except that Paul found out that no matter how good Danny was at following orders, chill out was one that Paul couldn’t force him to perform.
After a quick good-bye to Oliver, Danny opened the passenger side door and hopped into the truck. He shot Paul a shy smile while he buckled up. “Hi, Master.”
Paul hid his disappointment. The “M” word had come back into liberal usage. It almost seemed like Danny deliberately baited Paul, but that was a ridiculous thought. Paul refused to make an issue out of it, wanting to be patient. The poor kid had been through so much.
“How was work, kiddo?” Even if Danny wanted to be more formal, Paul wanted to try to keep things loose.
“Fine, thank you, sir. I finished the cabinet I’d been working on—before.”
Paul ground his molars. Before Fahey had cornered him. Before Fahey had tried to make Danny suck his dick. Before Big John had interrupted him and earned himself fifty strokes of the belt. Before. Before Danny’s world, and Paul’s, had been turned upside down for several horrible hours.
Danny had said none of this, of course. He didn’t have to, nor did Paul. They both understood. “That’s great,” Paul responded instead.
They rode in awkward silence for a minute or two before Danny asked, “How was your day, sir?”
Paul forced himself to grin at the formal question. “Good. We’re almost done with this project and I won a bid for a new one. It won’t start until after the Fourth, though.” The holiday loomed in the horizon. He and Danny were supposed to take a vacation together. Maybe getting away would help ease the tension in the both of them.
“I’m glad to hear it, sir. You’ve worked so hard to build up your business.”
Aaand, that proved to be the end of the polite chatting. They rode in mostly silence for the rest of the way. At some point, Paul cracked and put on the radio. Normally when he did that, Danny would channel surf for songs they both liked. This night, however, the boy kept his hands on his lap, his gaze firmly on the scenery. By the time Paul pulled into the garage, he was desperate for a beer and some normal.
The alcohol was an easy enough fix. He pulled a bottle out of the fridge and downed half of it in one swig. With a sigh, he turned to Danny. “Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll order up a pizza?”
They’d been on a steady diet of take-out food for the past ten days, Paul not wanting to cook and not wanting to have Danny do any work at all. Not so long ago, they would have showered together and probably, no definitely, would have worked in mutual blowjobs. Now, as much as Paul wanted to return to those days, he didn’t dare make a move. He remembered all too well what the memories of Tanner’s molestation had done to the boy their first night together. While he hadn’t asked Danny for details about what Fahey had done, he could only imagine that the man had treated him similarly. Paul couldn’t bear the thought of triggering a flashback to the kidnapping. He had resolved to take things slow and not push Danny into anything he wasn’t ready for.
Danny stood in the kitchen, twining his fingers together. “Um. If it’s okay with you, Master, can I skip washing for now and make us dinner? I know we have eggs and some ham. I could make western omelets while you shower.”
The boy looked so uncertain, biting his lower lip, gaze not meeting Paul’s. Paul wanted to walk over and pull him into a hug. He almost moved to do so, before fear of upsetting Danny stayed his impulse. Instead, he nodded.
“That sounds like a plan, if you’re sure you’re not too tired?”
Danny shook his head. “I’m not, sir, really. I’m actually a little sick of pizza.” He started to
grin, but his expression morphed into one of worry. “Not that I’m complaining, Master. I really appreciate your buying me such a treat.”
Paul sighed. “Relax, Danny. I understand. You know it’s okay to tell me what you like and don’t like. Remember?” Please remember the way we were before that fucker Fahey created a shitstorm.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’d like omelets and toast tonight.”
“That’s fine. I’ll go hop in the shower and be back with my appetite in twenty minutes.”
Once his back was turned, he rolled his eyes at his own inanity. He finished his beer in one more swallow and took a really long shower. Washing took no time. The jerking off session chewed up the rest of it. He’d been taking himself in hand for the past week, not wanting to pressure his boy indirectly by walking around with a hard-on. Self-gratification paled in comparison to the orgasms he achieved with Danny, but it took the edge off. Dinner was on the table by the time he returned. Danny even had a new bottle of beer by Paul’s plate. Paul gratefully drank his way through the awkward dinner.
Danny broke his silence with a nerve-fraying declaration toward the end of the meal. “Master? Would it be all right if I spend the weekend with my mother? Big John is going to ask Master Ben if he can.”
Paul stared at those beautiful, hopeful eyes and naturally intended to give the boy what he wanted. He worked to keep the disappointment from his own eyes, not wanting Danny to see how the idea bothered him. Although it shouldn’t. They’d spent the last ten days together, even with Paul at work, and they just seemed to be drifting further and further apart. Maybe some time with his parents would help with Danny’s emotional recovery.
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