Love in the Land of Fire, Brochu, Rebecca [best free novels .txt] 📗

Frisch’s face is older when it comes on the screen; there are lines that weren’t there before, signs of age and wear. It’s the almost maniacal gleam in his eyes that sets Josiah on edge, the way his voice is teetering on the edge of hysterical.

“He’s still so beautiful even after so long. I love to watch him scream, watch him bleed. He actually tried to use his safe-word last night but I put a stop to that. He’ll know better next time; he’ll know that what he says doesn’t matter, that he’s mine. She gave him to me.”

Feeling sick Josiah closes out the clip and pulls up the next one and then the next one. Each one gets progressively worse, showing Frisch’s downward spiral into cruelty. They show how he ignored Rafe’s attempts to end a scene by his own admission, how he abused a submissive under his protection in ways that he should have never even thought of.

It’s the last one that he pulls up that does him in.

Frisch comes on screen, his skin flushed and chest heaving with exertion, eyes blown wide in pleasure. The hand he wipes across his forehead is red to the wrist and leaves a smear of crimson blood in its wake.

“That bitch still won’t agree to him living with me, says it’s not in the contract, that it’d be a bad idea. She thinks I’ll end up killing him if I have him all the time. Maybe she’s right…maybe I would. But I just can’t help it; he’s just so pretty when he screams. Especially when I cut him, God I love to cut him. He’s a strong fucker though; I’ve got to get better restrains, maybe some help in here. Still I’ll never give him up…”

Frisch trails off and in the background Josiah can hear Rafe, and he’s screaming. The screen goes black, the file ending, and Josiah has to stop himself from snapping the flexible tech in half. Instead he walks away from it, stumbles into the kitchen and pours himself a finger of liquor, downs it in one burning swallow and then pours another. He’d wanted to be completely sober but after that, after hearing Rafe scream in the background and knowing that it had already happened, that he couldn’t help, he needed something to steady his nerves.

He hears the floorboards behind him shift and squeak and he whirls around, hand reaching for the pistol that 4he’d actually forgotten in the living room, and comes face to face with Rafe. Rafe’s face is ashen, his eyes wide and breathing shallow, and Josiah knows in startling clarity that he’s been there for longer than Josiah is comfortable with, that he’s heard everything. Shaken, Josiah tries to speak with him.

“Rafe…Rafe, I…”

“How long…how long have you had that? How long have you had proof of what he did to me? How long have you known that she sold me?” Rafe cuts him off sharply and there’s something wild in his voice, in his eyes, that Josiah doesn’t like. It reminds him too much of the way he’d looked when they’d first met face to face.

“Not long, Rafe, I swear.”

“Is this a game to you? Some sort of sick fucking game where you string the poor pitiful submissive along while you get your rocks off over all of the horrible shit that’s happened to them in the past? Is it?” Rafe screams the last bit and Josiah sees the hysteria in his face, knows that he won’t be able to reason with him, not now, but knows that he has no choice but to try.

“Rafe, it’s not like that. You know it isn’t like that. Just calm down and let me explain.” He starts forward to lay a hand on his shoulder, needing the contact, but withdraws, stung when Rafe actually flinches back from him.

“Don’t touch me. Not after you’ve been watching him, not after what you’ve seen. We both know you shouldn’t touch me.”

It slams into Josiah then, slams into him with the force of a blow, exactly what the problem is, why Rafe’s so desperate and wild-eyed. He steps forward determinedly ignoring the way Rafe flinches back from him again and wraps his arms completely around him. He holds on despite the way Rafe struggles, uses his strength to clamp his arms to his sides so that he won’t hurt himself and simply waits him out.

When Rafe finally seems to tire of the one-sided fight, he goes limp in Josiah’s arms. The dominant simply gathers him closer, strokes a hand through his disheveled hair and speaks quietly into his ear, his voice low and steady and completely sincere.

“What happened to you, what you’ve been through, is terrible and you came out of it so much stronger than you realize. You didn’t give up, Rafe, not really; you kept fighting even though you didn’t have to and when you couldn’t fight anymore you still took control over the situation. Nothing that happened was your fault, Rafe. You’re beautiful and good and nothing that happened to you is your fault. It’s not your fault, Rafe.”

Rafe shudders in his arms and Josiah feels it when his shirtfront begins to grow damp. He realizes that finally, after everything that’s happened, Rafe is letting himself cry. He gathers Rafe closer to him, rocks him slowly back and forth where they’re standing, and croons sweetly in his ear.

“You’re going to be alright, Rafe. I swear you will.”

For the first time since all of this started, for the first time since Josiah met Rafe, he actually believes that it might be true.

4Chapter Twelve

They end up on Josiah’s bed, curled around each other on his wine colored sheets, Rafe’s head nestled safely on his chest and Josiah’s