Page 6 of Lay It Bare

“So many ways to measure things. And many of them valid.” Ellisandre stood and went to the kitchen, coming back with warm water and soft biscuits. “Start with the water.”

He sat up slowly and accepted the water. He looked at his wrist, glistening with salve over the places where he’d torn the outer layers of the skin away. Gingerly, he pulled off the blanket, checking the rest of the damage, finding his ankles, the bruises on his ribs, the deeper cuts closed with tiny bands of medical tape. “I slept through this?”

“You’re tired, Vast. And you were safe. On some level, you knew it, or you wouldn’t have fallen apart.”

“That’s the worst of it. I know you’re safe. And I still can’t say what I need to say.”

“Perhaps I’m not the dangerous one. Perhaps you are.”

Sevastyan stilled, fingertips pressed against the warm surface of the mug of water. “Everyone is dangerous to themselves.”

Then he drank.

“What next?” he asked, when the water was gone, and the biscuits and another mug, this time of tea.

“You leave when you have to leave. And you come back whenever you can. I have two burner phones, one for you, one for me. I’ll keep mine on me. You call whenever and wherever. I will answer. Meanwhile, we date.”

“Date?” Sevastyan’s eyes widened.

“We date.” Ellisandre leaned forward. “Art galleries, coffeeshops, museums, pizza and movies here. Sex. Kisses. Time. Together. We date, like we’re starting over.”

“That’s what you want?”

“That’s what we need.” Ellisandre took Sevastyan’s wounded wrist in their hands. “I know a little of what your life has been like. I know you have some fragmented, damaged ability to trust. That you may not even remember the feeling of trust, of being protected. So we’ll teach you. In small packages of time. When you’re alone with me, you aren’t the international art dealer smooth-talking the rich and powerful. You’re not the undercover criminal agent moving valuables across borders. You’re just mine. I’m deadly enough for both of us.”

“You want to protect me?”

“I’ve always wanted to protect you. But we’ve been on the opposite lines of battle. I can’t take you out of the war without violating your heart, but I can give you moments outside of the bullet zones. And maybe you can start to know what it means to breathe.”

“Most people would say that I need to remember to breathe.” He sounded bitter.

“There’s no remembering for you, Vast. Breathing is something you were learning to do under my hand, before I left. Those lessons were left unfinished.”

“I can’t breathe and be who I have to be.”

“You’ll learn, or we’ll change who you have to be. I will bend the world for you, Vast.”

Sevastyan

Sevastyan walked back to the condo, taking a few pre-planned detours to throw anyone who might follow off his path. In the lobby he took the elevator up to his floor, making sure to hit several floors instead of just his and skipping his floor entirely, using the stairs to go back down to the eighth floor from the tenth. Every step ached down to his bones. It would be over soon, though. In moments he’d be in his bed with Rei. He put his hand to the door, typing in the code and letting himself in.

There were foreign boots beside Rei’s. No coat. And movement in the living room.

Sevastyan drew his gun, sliding the safety off. He left his shoes on and slipped around the partition.

Rei was on his knees, hands behind his neck, face averted towards the entrance. Lisa crouched on the edge of the couch, one foot on the floor, one knee on the cushions. Their clothes were creased as they’d been sleeping in them. The couch had the imprints of their bodies.

Sevastyan closed his eyes momentarily and pointed the gun at the ceiling, sliding the safety back in place. He stowed the gun back under his coat and went back to the front, pulling off his shoes.

So, Lisa had found them. And gotten inside. No wonder Rei was kneeling in penitence. It wasn’t like Lisa could disarm a window alarm and climb through like he’d done before. Either Lisa had developed hacking skills in the last few months, or Rei had let him in.

Sevastyan allowed himself ten seconds to close his eyes, trying not to sway in place, before he pulled off his coat and hung it up. Then he went back into the living room to face the two slaves.

Rei was exactly as he’d left them, but Lisa was on the floor beside him, not exactly kneeling, but not challenging Sevastyan either.

That wasn’t the problem. All he wanted to do was cradle Rei close in the bed and sleep. Ellisandre had given him pain medication and rechecked his wounds before they’d allowed him to leave, but he was still crashing. Around Rei, he could fall apart. But Lisa expected Sevastyan to be one of the assholes of the Merchari.

Masks on top of masks. And he didn’t have them at hand. Ellisandre had stripped them away. He was just Sevastyan—barely even Sevastyan. He was closer to Bal in this moment.