Read Online Loyalties by Rachel Haimowitz, Heidi Belleau - Free Book Online Page B

with a crush, still in pigtails. Of course he’s going to sell you on. Don’t get me wrong, he likes you, likes you more than most if I’m honest, but you’re still a fucking meal ticket in the end. One day, you’re gonna walk out those doors and wind up at the feet of another man, and you’re gonna spend five, ten, maybe fifteen years there missing Nikolai for every fucking second of it, like your heart’s torn out of your goddamn chest.” If it was possible to cut vegetables bitterly, Jeremy was doing it, slamming his knife against the cutting board. “But you stick it out and do your damn job as best you can because you know he wants you to and you promised him you would and you’d die before you’d disappoint him. And maybe, if you’re real lucky, your new master reminds you a little of him and maybe even loves you a little like Nikolai did and maybe you even love him back a little like you love Nikolai. But of course it’s never the same. And then at the end of it all, when you’re too old or too tired or just too plain familiar and boring for your master and he’s had enough of you, Nikolai might buy you back on the cheap, or maybe your master’ll take you out back and Old Yeller you for kicks. Or worse. So like I said, don’t screw this up, kid. You give Nikolai everything , and then you give your new master everything, and maybe when it’s all over, Nikolai will give you everything in return.”
    Maybe . So many possibilities for a bleak and empty future if he wasn’t careful. Dougie didn’t want to picture it. Didn’t want to picture what Jeremy must know about it. He stared down at the sink, scrubbing furiously at a stubbornly filthy brass pot and trying not to cry.
    “Oh! Master!” Jeremy said. “We were just talking about you.”
    Dougie didn’t want to turn around.
    Dougie wanted to turn around more than he’d wanted anything else in his life.
    “I heard.” Nikolai’s voice was soft and calm, and those two words were punctuated by the sound of a chaste kiss. A kiss for Jeremy. Dougie’s shoulders stiffened, waiting for his own greeting, but it never came. “Roger’s asleep now. I told him to call you on the intercom when he wants lunch. And we’ll both be taking dinner in bed tonight.”
    “Of course, Sir. Luke killed one of the chickens today. Freshly plucked. I could roast it.”
    “With stuffing?” God, Nikolai sounded so affectionate .
    “Would I ever serve you a chicken without stuffing, Sir?”
    “There was that one time you gave me wild rice.” Dougie could actually hear the good-humored crinkle in Nikolai’s nose. He glared at the pot in his hands. That fleck of stuck-on whatever didn’t budge, so he scrubbed it harder.
    Jeremy laughed, a pure sound without any of his usual bitterness. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
    “You wouldn’t love me if I did,” Nikolai countered flirtatiously.
    “I would always love you, Sir.”
    Dougie’s stomach clenched. Why the hell couldn’t he get this damn pot clean? Why couldn’t he do this one simple fucking thing?
    A hand fell on his shoulder, gently cupping it. “Hello, Douglas.”
    Oh Master, thank you. Dougie wanted to fall to his knees at Nikolai’s feet and just cry and cry and cry, beg Nikolai to forgive him, to let him stay, to love him like he loved these other men, and if he could have that, God, he’d be good, he’d be so good, he’d do anything, he’d let Nikolai beat him every day. “Hello, sir,” he finally choked out, his voice rough with unshed tears.
    “How are you feeling now, Douglas?”
    Like I’m afraid you’ll send me away. Like I don’t want to go.
    Like I love you so much, but I don’t know if you really love me back.
    Like I don’t know where I stand.
    “Like I don’t know what I mean to you, sir.” He braced himself for a swift punishment, a kick or a slap—what he meant to Nikolai was none of his damn business, and of no import besides—but it never