The Rules of Love (6 page)

The black silk shirt had been for a formal gathering when they’d first joined the club. It would be perfect. He could wear it tucked into a pair of woolen trousers with suspenders. It would be adequate, as he wouldn’t be leaving the house, which would have required a jacket on top.

The spring temperatures were rising at a rapid rate. Soon, the heat would be a constant for several months. Since Kenneth typically wore little or no clothing, it wasn’t that critical if he was to stain the shirt with his blood. But at least it wouldn’t be obvious to their guests that he’d been injured in any way.

He glanced up at the dresser mirror as he pulled his pants on over his boxers.

Except for the very obvious bruises on my cheeks and the large cut on my bottom lip.

He didn’t dare say anything about them. It would be left to Preston to provide whatever explanation he might be able to dredge up. Then he could smile and nod amiably as if it was perfectly fine to have the crap beaten out of him because he was no longer in love with a man whose sadism ran contrary to what Kenneth had hoped for in a lover.

Hmm. Better not smile.

If he did, there would be blood all over again. Sighing heavily, he let it all out before he had to face the unknown downstairs. Once he’d slapped some pomade in his hair and combed it back, he made a cursory check to verify that nothing seemed out of place. Satisfied that it was the best he could hope for under the circumstances, he made his way to the living room below.

Before he’d even rounded the corner to the main area, he heard the strong, confident tone of Master Saul. His heart accelerated at the knowledge that he would be in the same room with the silver-haired man in mere seconds. As Kenneth entered from the hall, their eyes locked briefly before Kenneth lowered his gaze in respect.

It was a struggle for Kenneth to control his rapid breathing, his nervousness. Had Preston seen the look they’d shared? In that brief moment, Kenneth had been reassured that Saul was nothing like Preston. The Master’s expression had been one of shock tinged with sadness. No matter what Preston said regarding Kenneth’s bruises, he knew Master Saul wouldn’t believe him. Just as he’d felt all along, Master Saul was a man who cared about others.

If only he cared for me the way I do for him.

Chapter Four

It took all of Saul’s inner strength and willpower not to outwardly react to the beaten visage of Kenneth. Not only was his gut churning, but tears burned at the backs of his eyes. Saul never cried, but he could’ve wept for Kenneth.

“At last my boy is here.”

Preston had been regaling them with tales of all the men he’d dominated when he’d traveled to Berlin, how the Masters there had pleaded with him to share his tips with them on effective punishments for bad boys. Saul didn’t believe a word of Preston’s bravado. But in order to lull their prey along, both he and Aaron had nodded and feigned great interest in Preston’s jabbering.

“I have the finest gin in town, gentlemen. Kenneth makes an outstanding Gin Rickey with the fresh limes we have growing in the yard. Shall I have him pour us a round?”

“That sounds splendid. Aaron?”

Saul raised his eyebrows at his cohort. They were desperate to stay in the house as long as possible. They’d had no idea what they’d face at Preston’s residence when they’d come up with their ruse, but they needed to figure out a way to get Kenneth alone, if even for a moment. The longer they had a reason to stay, the better their chances would be.

“The best, you say? Then I would love to try one.”

“Kenneth. Go fetch some limes, as well as the special gin for our honored guests.”

“Yes, Master.”

Kenneth’s voice seemed unusually soft for a man of his size and Saul noted how nervous he was. He darted his eyes about the room and his fingers were never still even as he held his hands at his sides. His gaze landed on Saul for a couple of seconds before he tore it away. A blush stained Kenneth’s cheeks and Saul wondered at the source of his embarrassment.

“Go!”

Kenneth jumped as if he’d been smacked then scurried from the room.

As I’m sure he has.

Saul took in a deep breath. He had to remain focused.

“I was wondering, Preston.”

Saul kept his expression schooled at Aaron’s words. If they were to have any success with their little plan, Aaron would have to be the one to lead Preston on so that Saul could get to Kenneth.

“Yes?” Already suspicion shone from Preston’s eyes. No doubt he lived in a state of constant mistrust borne of his own devious behavior.

“I heard from one of the other Dominants that you have an incredible collection of authentic torture devices from medieval times. Is that correct?”

A self-satisfied smile curled the corners of Preston’s mouth. “Why, yes. I’ve been collecting for years. If it’s not too boastful of me to say, I daresay it’s the finest collection of its kind.”

Aaron gasped. “Truly?” He regarded Saul. “This is what I was telling you. We need someone with Master Cornwall’s obvious expertise to serve on the board.” Aaron turned back to Preston. “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of us, but we’ve been searching for some new blood…” Aaron chuckled. “Forgive my pun, but we really do need someone of your ilk at the club to serve on the board. We’ve both been very impressed with your techniques since you’ve joined us.”

Saul breathed in deeply though his nose. Rather than compliment the horse’s ass, he wanted to make him suffer the way he’d made Kenneth and likely several others suffer too. He just had to bide his time.

Preston had straightened in his chair at Aaron’s words, his chest puffed out even more than it had been. The man obviously thought quite well of himself.

Aaron leaned in to Preston as if they were sharing a deep, dark secret. “I don’t suppose you’d care to show us your collection? Perhaps instruct us as to what some of the implements are and what delicious uses they might have?”

Preston had a ridiculous grin plastered across his face as if he had finally been given the validation he knew he so rightly deserved. “I’d be thrilled to help you gentlemen out.” He rose from the wing chair. “Please don’t be shy about asking me questions either. I do so enjoy teaching the less informed.”

Saul maintained a tolerant smile, but Aaron was playing his part in their game to perfection. He looked almost rapturous as he hung on to every word the putrid man spoke. Preston appeared to be taken in by Aaron’s faked enthusiasm and Saul repressed a snort, imagining the two of them becoming the best of friends like two biddies cackling at each other over tea.

As they followed behind Preston while he prattled on about how amazing his collection was and conversely, about how amazing he also was, Saul interjected. They were about to enter the room that housed Preston’s precious objects of torture, so it was time for Saul to make his move.

“Could you tell me where the facilities are, old sport?”

A look of irritation passed over Preston’s face and Saul resisted the urge to hold his breath. Anything could derail their plan at any moment.

“I’d hate for you to miss any of my comments.”

Shit.

“It wouldn’t bother me in the slightest if you had to repeat anything for Saul’s benefit.” Aaron laughed lightly. “I’m sure it won’t hurt me to hear it more than once, as I’m hardly the expert
you
are.”

As Saul exhaled, he realized he’d been holding his breath after all.

“In that case, go back the way we came and the guest bath is on the other side of the kitchen.”

“Excellent. I’ll rejoin you both in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Preston nodded at him curtly, then carried on his excited conversation with Aaron. It was all rather retch-worthy.

Before Preston could stop him for any reason or change his mind about showing them his little toys, Saul hurried to the kitchen in the hopes that Kenneth would be there making their drinks. Right as Saul rounded the corner that led into the room, Kenneth was in the process of closing the door that led to the yard. He turned and when he saw Saul, he yelped, dropping the limes that had been cradled in his arms. They rolled in all directions across the tiled floor. One bumped the toe of Saul’s Oxfords and came to a stop. Saul bent down to retrieve it.

After straightening, Saul held the citrus out to Kenneth, who had gathered up the remaining ones. The young man stared at Saul as if he were an apparition, his soft hazel eyes rounded in surprise. Saul had underestimated the sharp thrill that ran through him at being alone with and so close to Kenneth for the first time. The man tentatively stepped forward to accept the lime, but kept his distance, as if afraid they might inadvertently touch. Saul wasn’t certain what it meant, but he suspected it had to do with the fear of what would happen to him were he to be caught alone with another man. That was why Saul had to act fast.

He moved closer to Kenneth and could have sworn that he heard him gasp. Kenneth’s gaze had lowered as he’d no doubt been taught to do.

“Kenneth.” Saul spoke softly in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “Look at me, please.”

Their eyes were locked on one another, but neither of them said a word. Saul laid the fruit in Kenneth’s palm, and as he pulled his hand away, he allowed his fingers to brush over Kenneth’s skin briefly. He visibly shuddered then dropped his gaze again.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Saul kept his voice low, partly to reassure Kenneth and partly to guarantee that Preston wouldn’t hear voices from the other room and come to investigate.

“I-I’m not frightened of you. Sir.” Kenneth’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“Here. Let me help you with those…”

He reached for the limes that Kenneth still clutched to him, but the young man jerked back.

“Oh no, Sir, I can do it.” He rushed to the porcelain tiled counter then set the green fruit down. “Is there anything I can get you, Sir? Some water, perhaps? Anything at all.”

The last thing Saul wanted to do was cause Kenneth any discomfort. He was clearly rattled by Saul’s presence and he couldn’t decide what that meant. Perhaps Francesco had been reading much more into Kenneth’s actions than were actually there. What was more critical to Saul was that he get the information he’d originally come for. Whatever else may or may not be happening could wait for another time.

Yes. Another time.

“No, thank you very much Kenneth. You’re a good boy to ask—”

Kenneth whirled around, his mouth agape. “I…? You think I’m…?”

Saul frowned. He was still completely in the dark over what was going on between Kenneth and his supposed Master. What he knew of Kenneth at all was very limited. Yet every time something else was revealed to him it broke his heart just a tiny bit more. Being so near to Kenneth, Saul was able to inhale his masculine aroma that was tinged with the bite of lime, he could see the amber flecks in his irises. But he could also view the purpling bruises and the cut on his lip that was crusted over with blood.

“You’re a wonderful boy, Kenneth.” Saul kept his voice gentle. “And I need your help.”

Kenneth’s brow furrowed and he shook his head absent-mindedly as if he was dislodging the confusion. “I don’t understand. I’m of no use to anyone.”

It was if Saul had been punched in the gut. How could such a beautiful boy not know his own worth?

“Don’t ever speak about yourself like that again. Do I make myself clear?”

Kenneth’s eyes widened as he lifted his gaze. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be angry with me, Master Saul.”

Before he could stop himself, Saul brushed a loose strand of hair back from Kenneth’s face. The young man inhaled sharply.

“I could never be angry with you.” Saul cleared his throat and reached into his suit coat pocket. He retrieved a small notepad and his jade fountain pen. “Quickly now. I need you to tell me your aunt’s name and everything you know about her.”

Kenneth blinked several times and his jaw fell open. “How do you know…?”

“Later, Kenneth. Now hurry before Preston notices how long I’ve been gone.”

Preston’s name seemed to rattle him effectively. “Edna. Edna Robinson. She’s sixty-four years old and lives in the south side of Chicago.”

Saul peered up at Kenneth from where he’d been writing. “She lives in
Chicago
?”

“Yes.”

“Kenneth, does Preston know that’s where she lives?”

“I assume he does.”

“And why is that?”

Kenneth flushed. “Uh, he, because…” He shrugged.

Saul moved purposefully forward, intimidating Kenneth with his body without touching him. Kenneth stepped back until his waist hit the counter ledge.

“You will answer me directly, boy. What makes you think Preston knows where your aunt lives? Don’t hold anything back from me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Kenneth took a deep breath. “Master Preston always told me that if I ever try to leave him, he’ll do something terrible to her. He’s told me that he knows a lot of people—bad people—and that all he’d have to do is make one call and they’d…” Kenneth’s voice tripped on itself. “I know I’m weak, but I couldn’t take the chance.”

“You’re not weak. What did I just say before? I won’t have you speaking nonsense about yourself. Of course you couldn’t take the chance. But you can now.”

“Sir?”

“Do you want to leave Preston?”

Kenneth swayed and Saul grabbed his upper arm to steady him. The man’s muscles were defined and strong. Saul yearned to discover yet more of the treasures of Kenneth’s body.

“Are you going to be okay if I let you go?”

Kenneth nodded jerkily. “Don’t tease me, Sir, please.”

“I’m not teasing and I asked you a direct question.” Saul maintained the intensity of his tone. He’d never failed to get a response from any submissive man when he’d employed it. “If you truly want to leave Preston, I can help you. If you don’t, then I won’t interfere. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Sir. Very much.”

“Then what’s your answer?”

“Yes. Please.” He took a deep breath again. “I want to leave Preston Cornwall.”