[In Distress 01.0] In Distress

by Caethes Faron

  A cold hand slithered up Malcolm’s spine and grasped his heart. He couldn’t ask Will to forgive his previous Alpha because Malcolm was nowhere near ready to forgive him either. And he never would be. The brighter side of himself reminded him that if Vincent hadn’t been so damn foolish, Will would have never ended up in Malcolm’s home. In a way he should thank him, but he knew he’d never be able to see it that way. No, revenge would be exacted. Will would probably never know about it, or perhaps once the deed was done and there was no risk of discovery, he’d tell Will. Either way, the day would come when Will’s previous owner would beg for the mercy he hadn’t shown Will.

  “Malcolm?” Will’s worried voice dragged him from his thoughts. “What were you thinking about?”

  “Noth—I don’t want to talk about it. It falls squarely in the safety category. And I said all Alphas, not my father and not your slimy ex-owner. Those two you are welcome to hate to your heart’s content.”

  From there, the conversation moved to lighter topics. They spent time pointing out interesting cloud formations, watching the Beta landscapers work while children played, and talking about happy times in the past and hopes for the future.

  “It’s time we head down for lunch.” Malcolm desperately wished he hadn’t put such a firm rule about mealtimes in place, but he couldn’t ignore it now. Playing favorites would only breed resentment.

  “You’re eating with us?” There was a slight dip of disappointment in Will’s voice that Malcolm couldn’t quite understand.

  “Might as well. There’s no chance of me getting any work done. I really only stay away when I’m busy. Or brooding.”

  “But if you show up for lunch, especially dressed casually, they’re going to expect you to go to the beach or something.”

  Ah, so that was the source of the disappointment. That was easy enough to overcome. “I’ll simply tell them I’m busy. No one will question it, and it’s the truth. There’s no need for them to know more than that.”

  “But they’ll know when they see us together.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell them I’m helping you with your reading in the library. If we go in there, they won’t see us together, and we’ll be free to talk.”

  “Not if Syrus is there.”

  “He won’t be able to hear anything with his earbuds in, and he’s obviously not going to see anything.”

  “He’ll be able to sense it though.”

  “Probably, but if that’s true, he’s sensed it already. It’ll be fine.”

  They walked to the piece of floor that was still pushed aside to reveal the closet. On the way, Will picked up one of the books from a stack on the floor. “What do you read anyway?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “An Illustrated Guide to Corporal Punishment,” Will read the title. “You fantasize with this, don’t you?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, only curious.

  “Yes. When I’m in the mood. There are some actual erotic titles up here as well. There’re even more in the library.”

  “Hmm. I’ve never come across those. Could make for some good research.”

  Any embarrassment Malcolm might have felt was chased away by the possibility in Will’s words. “I’ll be sure to show you where they are.”

  The surprised looks at Malcolm’s casual attire when he entered with Will were followed by raised eyebrows at Malcolm’s announcement that he would be busy helping Will after lunch. Malcolm felt as if they could all see through them, especially Syrus, who politely ignored their huddled conversation in the library. He knew it was ridiculous. He’d spent one-on-one time with each of the boys before.

  The time flew by until they were escorting Syrus to dinner. Now, with a full belly, sitting in the lounge surrounded by everyone in the world he loved, Malcolm was happier than he’d been in a long time—especially when he considered that it wasn’t a result of pain.

  Will played charades with the others. The game quickly devolved into senseless laughing and roughhousing. As always, Malcolm observed, content to enjoy their antics from the safety of the sofa. Without Will to talk to, his thoughts drifted back over the last twenty-four hours.

  Will had said he loved him, but had he meant it? Malcolm had wanted to ask, but it wasn’t the nicest of questions. There was no need to put Will in the uncomfortable position of having to take it back, to explain that it’d been said in the moment. It had comforted Malcolm more than he had thought possible. It gave him a hope that he hadn’t felt since he’d dreamt of running away with Billy. Besides, actions held the truth where words could deceive. Will had to love him. It was the only explanation for why he was still around when a house full of distractions lay open to him. So much was left to be determined, but Malcolm felt for the first time that he’d met a man who could truly know him. More and more, he realized his feelings for Billy, while sincere, had been the juvenile stirrings of first love. He didn’t want to demean what they’d shared, the place Billy still held in his heart, but with Will, there was the potential for a deep bond, an understanding, and a closeness that had never been possible with Billy.

  The world was light, but dark clouds waited to roll in and plunge it back into darkness, because Will had said the only way Malcolm could hurt him was by lying to him. An impossible predicament. No matter how honest Malcolm tried to be, he couldn’t escape the fact that his entire life was a lie, the kind that could hurt Will deeper than he ever had been before. The only pain that trumped it was the pain of discovering the truth, so Malcolm took refuge in that, knowing it was borrowed time. A lifetime of being strong had made him weak, so he’d enjoy this bit of happiness while he could. Perhaps the memory of it would console him after Will inevitably withdrew his love upon finding out the truth.

  25

  Twenty-Five

  Will soaked up the words like a sponge. Scattered on the floor around his seat in the library were little stacks of books, all titles Malcolm had pointed out the previous day. There were erotic stories, studies of masochism, personal accounts, and more.

  At first, he’d been disappointed that Malcolm insisted on working today—especially after they’d parted the previous night with no more than a goodnight kiss. Malcolm hadn’t wanted to pull him away from the fun in the lounge, and by the time they had finally dispersed, he’d had a hard time keeping his eyes open. However, as soon as he made it to the library after breakfast, he dove into the books.

  They were far more fascinating than he’d thought they would be. The knowledge he gleaned would be invaluable. Of course, Will understood that Malcolm, like all people, was unique in his particular preferences, but there was an insight into the psychology of masochism that proved enlightening. Will needed all the help he could get, because he couldn’t imagine ever seeking out or enjoying pain. However, as he read, he began to understand. His mind drifted to the times he’d bottomed with other Zeds for enjoyment, the slight pain when passions were high and time—and lube—were short. It wasn’t the same, but the pain had given a slight edge to the experience that, after the initial discomfort, added something. The kind of pain Malcolm sought was in a completely different class, and Will would always choose more lube over less if given a choice, but at least it gave him some sort of reference point.

  Will planned to learn from Malcolm, but the books he read, especially the ones he knew Malcolm particularly enjoyed, gave him a good place to start. Plus, there was practical knowledge—safety, proper use of different implements—that was beneficial, especially to a man terrified of permanently harming his lover. There also lurked in his mind the knowledge that conversation with Malcolm would not always be the best source of information. Will was becoming proficient in reading his body language, and he’d continue to hone that skill, but he wanted to understand his mind. It wasn’t that Malcolm would lie to him, at least not consciously—Will trusted him that much—but it was entirely obvious that Malcolm did not view himself in anything approaching an objective or honest manner. Malcolm could only tell Will the truth about himself
as far as he knew it. Will would have to discern the rest.

  Most relieving were the assurances in several books that masochism itself was not a symptom of some other problem. Nothing had worried Will more than the thought that perhaps indulging Malcolm’s desires would ultimately hurt him. He held to his conviction that what had transpired two nights ago was wrong—necessary under the circumstances, but wrong just the same. From his talk with Kaleana, it had seemed that Malcolm’s normal desire for pain was much different than the assuaging of guilt that had driven their last encounter, but it helped to read that it was entirely possible for a healthy individual to enjoy pain and take erotic pleasure in it.

  Good, because Will didn’t intend to wait much longer. Malcolm had assured him he didn’t need a beating in order to have sex, but something inside Will needed to supplant the memory of the other night. They needed a pleasant experience to associate with the pain Will inflicted in order to chase away the darkness of what they’d already been through together.

  “I suppose I’m too old for gossip, but I had hoped you’d share something of what’s going on with you. I’ve been sitting here for hours, waiting for you to offer some tidbit, but now it’s nearly time for lunch, and you’ve left me hanging.” Syrus’s voice came as a complete surprise. Will had forgotten he was even in the room.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Syrus howled with laughter. “Boy, I don’t know who you think that pathetic line would convince. Fine, fine, don’t tell me anything. But I’m happy for the both of you, whatever it is you’re up to. I don’t think this room has been so happy in all the time I’ve been here.”

  “Thanks, Syrus.”

  “And next time, just tell me to mind my own business. Don’t insult my senses.” Syrus stood, and Will took his arm.

  “All right. I just…it’s new…and I don’t think he really wants anyone knowing about…whatever it is. I think he worries the others wouldn’t approve.”

  “Approve?” Syrus shook his head. “I sure hope you can plant some sense into his head. He needs it. Badly. If you two were to announce any type of relationship had formed, you’d have to fight the boys from throwing a party the likes of which this house has never seen. They’ve all wanted it for him.”

  “So he’s never had a relationship before?”

  “No, not even a tryst as far as we can tell. I had begun to think he’d just mastered hiding it from us all—he’s not exactly a very open man, as you know—but after yesterday, it’s clear he’s never had anyone.”

  Heat rose in Will’s cheeks. “You don’t think the others realize, do you?”

  “Oh, they’ll know something is up, but I doubt those blockheads will put all the pieces together for a while yet, and I know how to keep my mouth shut. But don’t worry about it. Even when they do figure it out, they won’t want to embarrass you.”

  Will wasn’t so sure.

  “Nick will, but Tony’ll keep him in line. Most of all, they want Malcolm happy, and you too. If you find happiness together, it’s that much better for all of us.”

  “Thanks, Syrus.”

  “Now, you better start controlling that smile of yours. I can feel it shining. I bet it looks giddier than an Alpha girl with her first crush.”

  Will laughed as they entered the kitchen, which didn’t help with the smile but at least disguised it.

  At Malcolm’s quiet urging after lunch, Will spent some time with the boys. They all sat in the hot tub together, telling jokes, splashing, and enjoying each other’s company. In addition to the soothing jets on his leg, Tony spent some time massaging his muscles. He’d never been given this kind of attention before and was surprised at what a difference it made in the ache that was so constant it almost seemed normal.

  The high-pitched alert of the State Broadcasting System pierced the air from their pile of Glass Tabs, towels, and shoes. The conversation stopped and then resumed after the alert had sounded the usual three times. Nick was the only one who bothered getting out of the hot tub to see what it was. Will didn’t particularly want the intrusion of the government into his day.

  When Nick returned, his expression practically begged someone to ask what the bulletin said.

  “So, what was that all about?” Tony was the one to oblige.

  “Rioting’s broken out up north, Betas claiming they’re fighting for the plight of the Zeds. They’ve bombed some government buildings, and quite a few people have died. The government’s warning that they’re actually Spark of Life fanatics and that this kind of violence is why the movement’s banned. The bulletin says they’re terrorists, and the government won’t stop until the movement’s leader is in custody. They’re offering a reward for any information leading to his capture.”

  If an official bulletin was being released, it only meant the situation had progressed beyond the government’s ability to cover it up.

  “They’ll get themselves killed. Don’t know why they think they can change anything.” Carson kept his eyes shut, his head resting on the pillow attached to his seat.

  “They say it worked before.” Will had always believed it’d be up to the Betas to change anything, since they supplied both Alphas and Zeds. There wasn’t any comfort in having to rely on free people to liberate the enslaved.

  Carson looked up. “Really? So that collar around your neck’s just decorative?”

  “Stop.” Tony eyed Carson disapprovingly. “They’re doing what they think is right. We’re not the only ones this system hurts. They feel it too every time they lose one of their children or see a Zed and wonder who they might be.” His was the voice of reason, always calm and measured.

  “These things never end well. The same happened in my country. Nothing came of it. Just made everything worse.” Rufus rarely spoke about his native land. Even now, his voice was hesitant, not inviting questions.

  “It’s all st-st-stupid. C-c-c-come on. Let’s swim.” Stu exited the tub and dove into the pool, splashing water over the sides. Nick was quick to follow.

  “Come on, Carson. Let’s join them.” Tony coaxed the quite comfortable man from the hot tub. “You coming, Will?”

  “No, go on. I’m enjoying a few blissful, pain-free moments with my leg. Thanks for the massage. I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

  “My pleasure. We should do it more often if it makes that much of a difference.”

  Will didn’t know why it continued to astound him that these men cared about him. Maybe that was all right. Maybe it was good to not take such care for granted.

  Rufus left with Tony and Carson, leaving only Syrus and Will.

  “You sure stayed quiet.” Will moved to the seat next to Syrus so they could speak more comfortably.

  “I’ve heard it all before.”

  “They say science isn’t the answer. I sometimes wonder if they’re right. If science knew everything, we wouldn’t be in this predicament, would we?”

  “This predicament has nothing to do with the veracity of science and everything to do with greed.”

  “So you don’t think we’re doing our duty as Zeds by removing ourselves from the gene pool?”

  “I think every person, Alpha, Beta, or Zed, deserves to be treated with dignity and respect always, and compassion as much as possible.”

  “But what if the Geneticists are wrong? What if there really is a Spark of Life that’s responsible for humanity? I like to think those Spark of Life fanatics are on to something. It’d explain why the Geneticists repress any writings about it.”

  “You shouldn’t talk about such things. You shouldn’t even think on them. The world is what it is. Don’t go searching for explanations. It’s dangerous enough for a Beta to do it, never mind a Zed.” Syrus’s tone was uncharacteristically harsh.

  “So now the world can dictate even what I think?” Will bristled at the implication.

  “No, but the world can visit consequences on you for those thoughts. It’s dangerous, Will.”


  “Malcolm wouldn’t hurt us or allow anyone else to either.”

  “There are certain dangers he can’t protect you from—especially the dangers that threaten him. The Spark of Life Movement is the great equalizer: it’s equally outlawed for everyone, irrespective of caste. Put that mind of yours to better use. I’m sure there’re more interesting things to fill it with between a library full of books and a certain Alpha who likes whispering in corners with you.”

  It was hard to be upset at the chastisement when Syrus was so obviously right. “All right, I’ll try to forget it.” Or at least hold his tongue around the Zeds. Malcolm was a different matter. He’d bring the subject up with him sometime, get his opinion.

  They settled into a comfortable silence. Will laid his head back and closed his eyes, picturing the night he hoped to have with Malcolm. In the background, he heard the splashing settle down until there was hardly any noise at all from the pool. The tranquil air was disturbed a few minutes later by a beeping.

  “Whose tab is that?” Nick got out of the water and looked around at their pile of towels and shoes. “Will, I think it’s yours.” He brought Will’s tab to him.

  Will hardly cared what it said, so long as he didn’t have to get up. Maybe if they all just stayed at the pool, Marcy would be forced to serve dinner here. He took the tab from Nick’s outstretched hand. “Thanks.” A message notification flashed. He opened it and read it silently.

  “Work emergency has called me away. Don’t wait up. I’ll be late. Sorry.”

  He couldn’t help the stab of disappointment and jealousy. At what? Malcolm’s business? It didn’t matter. The sadness was sharp whether it was justified or not.

  “What is it?” Nick still stood nearby. Will hadn’t done anything to try to control his expression, and now everyone looked at him expecting bad news.

  He didn’t know what to say, so he stuck with the relative truth. “Malcolm won’t be joining us for dinner.”