“If the bastard had left my sweet Sam alone in the first place, then he wouldn’t have to meet my other demands as well.”
Aaron hadn’t filled Sam in on any of what would be happening that evening. His boy had trusted Aaron to handle everything.
They went over more details of the plan, Aaron confident that everything would go as intended. Saul had taken care of getting the boxers to come down for back-up. Thomas and Theodore would provide the method that would insure that Sam’s father would leave him alone for good. Aaron was there to play the part of the money-hungry pimp who would only relinquish Sam once a sizeable amount had been paid to cover for Sam’s lost services.
It had taken some convincing to get Sam to walk ‘alone’ to the plant shop the morning after he’d been followed. Aaron, Theodore and Thomas had watched from the Bearcat to see if anyone tried to approach his boy. The same brutes that Sam had described to Aaron had shown up and the men had cut them off. A note with Aaron’s contact information had been passed along, stating that Sam was Aaron’s property but that perhaps a business arrangement could be agreed upon. Sam’s father had called shortly thereafter and the meeting they were preparing for had been set up.
“I need to check in on Sam.” Aaron pulled out his pocket watch. He was sure he’d have ample time and it would be good for them both. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take my boy into one of the private rooms for a good spanking and fucking. He’s been rather anxious the last couple of days, but today has been particularly wearing on him.”
“Poor thing. Yes, go take care of that charming creature. He needs you.”
Aaron stood then regarded his loyal friend. Saul appeared absorbed in his cigar and brandy, gazing off into nothing, seemingly lost in thought. The only wish Aaron would ever have other than having Sam happy and by his side forever, would be that his kind-hearted fellow Dominant would find someone to comfort him. Someone as adoring to Saul as Sam was to Aaron.
His thoughts shifted back to Sam. Saul was right. Sam did need Aaron.
But no more than I need him.
* * * *
The time spent with Sam had taken the edge off any lingering trepidation Aaron still had over the deception they had all planned for the evening. He had no qualms over what they were about to do but had needed to shed his personal fears over the possibility of failing to protect his boy. In place of any anxiety he’d felt was fury that Sam’s father wished to purchase his son—to take him against his will to a life that Sam didn’t wish for.
No love.
Only the desire for power and wealth. That was all Sam represented to his father. Aaron curled the corners of his mouth into a small grin. He couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait to destroy the reprehensible man.
The doorbell gonged and Aaron glanced at the ornate mahogany and bronze mantle clock.
At least the bastard knows how to show up on time.
Saul peered around the entryway of the study in the hall leading to the main living area.
“Showtime, old sport.”
“Bruce and George are in their places outside?”
“Of course. They are well hidden and waiting for their cue.” Saul arched his eyebrows. “I have to say, I’ve never seen you so…edgy.”
Aaron frowned in consternation. “And that means what, exactly?”
He had no right to be angry, not when Saul and his other friends had gone out of their way to help both him and Sam. He knew it was really only the stress over Sam that had him out of sorts.
Saul moved into the room then took his position on the opposite end of the settee where Aaron was already seated.
“Don’t take offense, old sport. You’re alive. You’re in love. It’s a wonderful thing for me to witness.”
Aaron nodded, calming. “Thank you again, Saul. This means so much to both of us.”
“My absolute pleasure. I’m always up for a bit of mischief.”
Saul held up his partially filled brandy snifter and dipped his chin before taking a sip. Aaron let out an easy laugh, suddenly anxious for the game to begin as well. Saul set his glass down on the elegant serving tray that sat on the low coffee table in front of them. In addition to Saul’s drink, there was a half full crystal decanter of brandy and additional empty glasses. On the other side of the antique cherry wood piece of furniture were two matching wingchairs with a small round top table in between. Perched upon it was a box of cigars and heavy silver lighter. Aaron held his own drink, swirling the amber liquid within—all of it a part of the ruse.
“Gentlemen, your guest has arrived.”
Aaron fought the urge to snort at Michael’s mention of the term ‘guest’. Both Saul and Aaron rose in unison. As the valet stepped aside, a rather rotund man of short stature appeared. The man scowled at them both, making no attempt to mask what was likely his revulsion at having to conduct business with men who ran a house of perversions. The two brutes who had followed Sam and who had taken Aaron’s info, flanked Mr Cunningham.
Aaron pasted on his most radiant smile and extended his hand. “Delighted we could meet, Mr Cunningham. I’m Aaron Rubenstein. We spoke on the phone?”
The man merely grunted, but took Aaron’s hand briefly before snatching it back as if he might catch a disease.
“And this is my esteemed colleague, Saul Liebowitz.”
Saul gave a quick nod of acknowledgment. “Old sport.” He turned to Aaron. “I was under the impression that this was to be an amiable gathering, a simple business exchange? I wasn’t aware there would be others present. I’m afraid I’m not comfortable discussing private financial matters under these circumstances.” Saul faced Mr Cunningham again. “I’m sure you understand. Dreadfully sorry things couldn’t work out, but I have to be on my way—”
Mr Cunningham sputtered. “Now hold on there. We had an understanding.”
Aaron piped in. “I’m afraid Mr Liebowitz is correct. I had also assumed we would be meeting privately. I’ll be honest, I’d rather keep Sam anyway. Wonderful boy—very much in demand. As a matter of fact, I have an overseas buyer who’s expressed interest in—”
“This is an outrage!” His face had turned a vivid shade of scarlet and his eyes bulged. “This is my son you’re talking about!”
Saul locked eyes with their quarry. “Be that as it may, dear sir, we have him and you do not. Are we negotiating a deal to return your son to you or has this meeting come to an end?”
Aaron held back a grin at Saul’s use of his forceful tone. He could come across as quite intimidating when he did that. Not all submissives could handle him—but he could always handle them.
It hadn’t seemed possible that Sam’s father could appear more enraged than he already did, but the red deepened to almost a purple and his breathing became something that was more akin to snorting.
“And what’s to stop me and my men from taking him from you? Huh?”
“Well, you would have to locate him first.” Saul smiled tightly, as if it hurt him to do so. “We have him safely tucked away until our business here has been concluded. If we are still doing business, that is.”
Mr Cunningham wiped his face with one meaty paw then straightened his suit coat. “Fine. Hans, take your brother and wait for me outside.”
“But—”
“Now.”
As soon as the thugs had left, Aaron gestured for Mr Cunningham to sit. Sam’s father kept his eyes narrowed but lowered himself on to one of the chairs across from them.
“There now,” said Aaron. “Much better.” He made a show of picking up his snifter then languidly crossing one leg over the other before relaxing against the back of the sofa. “Let’s start over, shall we? So much nicer when we can keep things pleasant.” Aaron brought the amber liquid to his lips for a small taste. He kept it in his hand. “I must confess I was quite surprised at how resourceful you were in discovering Sam’s whereabouts.”
Mr Cunningham grunted. “I know how you degenerates all like to gather together in one place. I
t was easy enough to check those clubs—or whatever you call them—until we found someone who knew all about Sam. I hardly had to pay that Larsen fellow anything. He was quite anxious to tell me all about you.”
He’d revealed the last part with a sneer and Aaron worked extra hard to keep from giving the man a good thrashing, consequences be damned.
Aaron cleared his throat, determined not to allow himself to become derailed. “I had a figure in mind that would entice me to relinquish your son to your care. Saul has agreed with me that it’s a fair sum.”
“Has he now?” Mr Cunningham darted his eyes around the room as if searching for some unseen menace and he couldn’t sit still.
Explains a lot.
“I have my own ideas too. So, uh, is this where… I mean, do men…?” He plucked a handkerchief from his coat pocket then swiped at his forehead before stuffing it back in. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Aaron maintained his friendly expression “Mr Cunningham, I assure you, we have the orgy scheduled for tomorrow. You needn’t concern yourself about witnessing any…unfamiliar behaviors this evening. Unless you were curious…?”
Saul coughed into his fist and Aaron had no doubt his friend had stifled an outburst of laughter. Aaron struggled to maintain his own composure at the horror etched on Mr Cunningham’s face. His eyes had bugged wide and his jaw hung open as if it might fall off. Aaron absent-mindedly took a sip of his drink, never breaking his gaze with Sam’s father.
“No…I… No.”
Mr Cunningham grabbed his hankie and swiped at his face again. He eyed Aaron’s drink, licking his lips. He indicated to the decanter on the table.
“Would you mind…?”
Aaron put on a show of jumping to attention. “Oh, do forgive me. How rude. I confess I was a bit rattled by your…associates.” Aaron picked up the decanter after removing the stopper. He regarded Saul. “Would you like more?”
Saul took a sip then eyed his glass. “Yes, that would be marvelous, old sport.”
Aaron topped Saul off then poured some of the brandy into one of the empty snifters. “I can warm it if you like?”
Mr Cunningham reached for the drink. He cupped his hand around the bowl of the stemware. “Not necessary. I’d prefer that we come to an agreement quickly so that I can get outta here.”
“Of course.”
Aaron smiled at him, settling back then taking a healthy swallow of the brandy he had prepared for himself prior to Mr Cunningham’s arrival. Sam’s father eyed him then took a big gulp of his own drink. Aaron had made sure to get the finest he could from Walter’s stash back at the speakeasy. Their prey nodded then took another drink.
“This is some fine hooch you have here.”
Aaron downed the rest of his drink then leaned forward to pour himself another.
“Thank you. We have a wonderful source.”
After adding to his own glass, he held up the container of the rapidly diminished liquor to Mr Cunningham.
“Don’t mind if I do. It certainly has a pleasant effect, as well as taste.” Mr Cunningham clutched his newly filled glass to him then tossed some back.
Drink up, you fucking piece of shit.
“I do agree.” Aaron relaxed again, swirling the liquid in his snifter, but not sipping from it. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we? As I mentioned, Saul and I have a figure in mind for the return of your son. However, I would like to hear what amount you were proposing?”
Mr Cunningham’s eyes were hooded, his shoulders slumping. He took another half-hearted swallow of the drugged brandy. “Mmm…yes… Well, considering he is my dear son, I’m sure…um…sure…” Sam’s father frowned. “I can’t remember…”
The glass rolled from his hand onto the carpet and Mr Cunningham slumped forward. Saul leaped from the sofa to grab him before he tumbled onto the table and liquor set.
“Well played, old sport!”
“We’re not done yet. I’ll let Michael know we’re good on our end and he can signal to Bruce and George. I’ll go upstairs and tell Theodore it’s time for the next step in the game.”
After settling the unconscious lump of a man, Saul stood then patted Aaron on the back heartily.
“I must confess… I’m greatly looking forward to it. I can’t wait to see the look on the face of this horse’s ass when we’ve completed everything!”
Saul roared with laughter and much of the tension Aaron only then realized he’d been holding in was released. He grinned.
“Yes, Saul. Me too.”
* * * *
“Sam, stop it! Your lip is bleeding. Master Aaron won’t be happy.”
“Oh no.” Sam clapped a hand to his mouth.
Here his Master and so many other Dominants from the club were going to so much trouble for him, and he would shame Aaron by disobeying him. He didn’t even have a handkerchief to dab at it. There weren’t any pockets in what he was wearing. He giggled, the sound verging on a little hysterical.
Francesco touched Sam’s knee that peeked out from the split of the silk robe Sam had put on after Aaron had fucked him. Sam couldn’t understand why Francesco wore nothing. Even the other boy who was with them in the room—Charles? - had nothing on either. The one thing Sam did know about the evening’s activities was that the club had been closed to all members for the night in order to facilitate whatever plan had been worked out.
The door opened and Sam jumped. Was it over? Or had his father convinced Aaron to give Sam back? His mind taunted him. He knew in his heart Aaron would do no such thing. Master Theodore peeked into the room and gestured to the other two boys. They had all been kept in a den far away from whatever was happening downstairs. Javier had been placed outside as a guard of sorts.
“Come on, boys. It’s time.”
Sam was confused. Aaron hadn’t told him he would be getting involved with whatever was supposed to happen. And how did Francesco and Charles fit in with everything? He pushed up from the floor to follow.
“Not you, Sam. You’re to stay here.”
A protest formed on his lips, but he forced it back. Arguing with Master Theodore would be no different than arguing with Aaron.
‘Go with Master Theodore, Sam, and follow his instructions. He’ll take you to see Francesco and one of the other submissives. They can keep you company until all this is over with.’
Reluctantly, Sam nodded his head and lowered himself back onto the plush rug. He glanced at Francesco, who blew him a kiss, and he felt better. It was nice to have friends who really cared about him just as he was and would go out of their way to help him. The ones he’d grown up with had all turned on him after the incident with Gerald.
“Don’t worry, Sam. Master Aaron’s thought of everything.”
The door snicked shut behind them, which left Sam nothing to do except resist the urge to chew his entire lip off his face. It would’ve been an amusing image were he not so incredibly anxious. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in Aaron. It was that his father and those awful men he employed were so ruthless and without honor. They were nothing like Aaron or the other men of the Hampton Road Club.
He wasn’t allowed to go to the window, in case he was spotted. The curtains had been pulled tightly shut. Sam fingered the playing cards of the game he and Francesco had been in the middle of. His friend had promised he would teach him a game called Stern-Halma the next time they were together. He’d told Sam that it was played on a wooden star-shaped board and used marbles. It was more fun with extra players, so he’d said maybe they could get some of the other submissives to play too.
Francesco had also taught him a card game he could play by himself called Patience. Sam shuffled the cards then laid them out in a long line from the left, adding extra cards on each stack as he went along. The game helped give him the focus he needed when Aaron was absent. There were no plants or flowers to tend to. He only had himself and his worry to keep him company.
The brass clock on a book shelf in the corn
er tick, tick, ticked away. Sam wished for a phonograph in the room. He wasn’t in the usual room where the submissives socialized together. That much larger space had many wonderful things including the phonograph and stacks of heavy vinyl records. It would have been heaven to have the music to distract him.
As he lay down another card in what felt like his hundredth game, the door creaked open. He inhaled sharply and turned his head, the cards scattering to the floor as he dropped them.
“Master!”
He leapt up then ran into Aaron’s outstretched arms. In a torrent of tears that he couldn’t have controlled if he’d tried, he sobbed in relief that his lover was there. Aaron held him tightly, rocking him in his embrace.
“It’s all over, little Sam. He’ll never bother you again.”
He snuffled, trying to regain his composure. He had to know.
“What happened? How is it that he’s letting me go? All he’s ever talked about is being the big cheese so he could lord over a bunch of people.”
Aaron chuckled, the inner vibrations from his lover rumbling against Sam’s ear. Aaron pulled back then plucked a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped across Sam’s face.
“Let’s sit together and I’ll explain everything.”
Once they’d settled, Sam listened in fascination as Aaron explained how he’d lured his father to the Club. As the chatter had continued, Sam’s father had become more relaxed, more convinced that he and Aaron were discussing a small business matter amicably. It was then that Sam’s father had been offered a drug-laced brandy to knock him out. When Aaron had quizzed Sam for any and all things he knew about his father, Sam had told Aaron of his weakness for a good brandy. His father was rarely able to indulge—not daring to be caught with the illegal substance amidst his respectable peers—especially when he hoped to run for office. It made Sam feel as though he’d taken part in the evening’s scheme more directly.
Then, the most interesting part of the Dominant’s plan had come into play. They’d taken him to one of the playrooms, stripped him, then sent Francesco and Charles in to lie with him as if they were all lovers. It was then that several rather graphic photographs were shot.
Hesitant Heart Page 16
