Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Falling Apart - 13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
"Oh fucking hell..."
I vaguely heard a curse float around the room.
I flinched, tightening my boneless body into a ball to create a small strike zone. I'd broken. I'd been weak. I was a pathetic, undisciplined whore, as Master always said I was. And now Lord Ashton knew it. I wanted to disappear into the soft carpet, to hide from the contempt I'd see in those beautiful eyes at my failing.
At least I'd finally imparted the information I'd been holding so close. Maybe he could use it. I just hadn't wanted him to send me away before I could tell him. And I had. Now, it was done. He could hand me over to Liam now, and I would gratefully cave under his whip. Hopefully, for everything to finally be...
"...over...finished..." I didn't even realize I was muttering out loud, waiting for the blow of the man's crop. He had to be irritated with my insubordination after he'd told me to stand here. I couldn't even think straight anymore. I knew I was falling apart, and I didn't care anymore. I'd done what I'd needed to do—tell Lord Ashton the name of his spy. I could be done now. I just wanted... I wanted...
Hazy exhaustion clouded my brain. I didn't even know what I wanted anymore. "...not a boy... not a pet... so sorry..."
"Kye! Kye, look at me!"
I buried my face against my hands, which I could barely even feel. Only the prickly numbness flitted through my languid arms.
"...be strong... be good..." I focused on my brother's words, the words that had brought me through so much before. A hand rubbed my back... just like when I was... Tareth?
Suddenly, my trembling shoulders were gripped firmly, and I was pulled from my fetal position, a small cry escaping my lips. A strong arm wrapped around my shoulders and a hand grasp my jaw, forcing my head back. My skull flopped heavily against a solid shoulder, my neck unable to hold it up any longer.
"Kye, Kye, come on, look at me," the deep voice cajoled.
No. I kept my eyes closed. That voice. I knew I didn't want to see the censure in the man that voice belonged to. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I kept repeating.
"Kye! Open your eyes!" The voice was more forceful now, the commanding tone striking that part of me that compelled me to obey.
Trembling fiercely, I managed to open my eyes. I blinked rapidly in confusion up at the viscount. He looked... worried? Why did he look so distraught? He had to be angry I hadn't been able maintain—
The thumb of the hand holding my jaw stroked softly over my cheek. A sense of relief ebbed through Lord Ashton's eyes. Relief? Relief from what?
I felt my breath stick in my lungs, short pants attempting to draw in more air in my panic. "I'm...sorry..."
"Kye, shhhh, be still. It's alright." I couldn't believe the viscount was trying to soothe me, when he probably should have been kicking me out the door.
"I—"
"No, don't say you're sorry again. There's nothing to be sorry for." I could feel his eyes boring into mine. His thumb wiped at something on my cheek, and I realized it was tears. My tears. Gods, how pathetic could I get? Please, just strike me down now, I prayed.
The chuckle that bubbled from the viscount's chest shocked me out of my reverie, and I looked up at him with wide eyes. "By the Gods, you are a stubborn thing, aren't you? Why would you wait until you literally collapsed? Was it suddenly 'time'?" His voice held a hint of amusement.
"Yes, sir," I rasped, my voice hoarse from lack of water.
He frowned. "Really? Why now?"
"You are alone."
Lord Ashton froze. I suspect he wasn't expecting that response. "That's all? You wanted to talk to me alone? Why didn't you just fucking ask?" he demanded, his voice rising in irritation.
I flinched at his tone, and he immediately softened, moving his hand to smooth back wayward locks of my hair. "I'm not allowed, sir."
"What are you talking about? Not allowed?"
"The rules. No asking questions. No talking unless spoken to."
I could see the mix of bewilderment and horror growing in the handsome face. "Where did you learn these 'rules'?" he asked cautiously, although I was almost certain he already knew the answer.
"Master, sir."
I was surprised by the flaring of the man's nostrils as he fought down his anger. I didn't understand why he'd be upset. "Master Barrett," he hissed.
"Yes, sir," I acknowledged, even though I knew Lord Barrett hadn't wanted me to call him that outside of his room. Most amoratos didn't call their lovers 'Master.'
"That spleeny milk-livered ratsbane," Lord Ashton muttered fervently under his breath. "When I find him, I'm going to—" He cut himself off, refocusing his heated gaze on me, and I found it etched with distress. "So because of these 'rules' you felt you couldn't ask to speak to me alone?"
"No, sir. It's not proper. I didn't want to be—" I bit my lip. I'd already said too much.
"Be what, Kye?" he asked softly. "Tell me."
"Be disciplined, sir. Punished for disobeying."
He muttered more words under his breath, but this time I couldn't make them out. Finally, he sighed heavily. "But you had to know it was okay to talk in front of my men. Liam is my steward; you could have told him. Why would you need to speak to me alone?"
I was already shaking my head, which made it hurt more. "No, sir. I couldn't. I don't know who Lee is, and I didn't want him to know I was telling you. So he wouldn't hurt you... or anyone else. Before you could find him."
"Lee." He stared at me for several seconds, thinking. "We don't have a 'Lee' on the estate. You must be mistaken, certainly no one close enough to know either Rowland's or my plans."
I swallowed thickly. "But...but you do, sir. At least three of them."
Lord Ashton's dark gaze frowned at me.
"Liam, Donnelly, and Charlie... at least, if not others. But I... I think... maybe Master would have... picked someone close enough to you to... well, get the reports he needed. Sir." I was practically holding my breath after my verbal vomit of information.
The viscount's eyes were darting wildly, taking in my face as if searching for deception.
"I'm sorry, sir. I—I only heard Master say 'Lee' had given him information, and that—that 'Lee' had taken care of... " I tried to remember exactly what he'd said. "He'd taken care of your..." I tilted my head, frowning, not sure if I had it right. "...your evidence?"
"Oh Hell," Lord Ashton jerked back in realization, and I nearly slid to the floor. I heard the soft whine from my throat at the loss of the comforting embrace but quickly tamped it down. I had no right to expect comfort from the man, a viscount of all people. The fact that he'd held me so long was shocking. Wonderful, but still shocking.
What ended up being more surprising was Lord Ashton gathering me back up in his arms and lifting me from the floor. I flailed, almost insisting I could stand on my own—but that would probably have been a lie. My body still felt like jelly. I held my breath, wondering what he planned to do to me.
Probably drop me back in the little store room. Maybe deliver me to Liam, especially if he thought I was lying about his closest companions. It really didn't matter anymore. I wasn't in a position to demand he believe me; to demand he find out who 'Lee' was.
I'd closed my eyes, my body rigid. I gasped in shock when I felt the soft velvet of the couch under me. He was laying me on his couch? He... he was kneeling in front of me? Why?
"Kye," he said softly, brushing my hair back from my neck. "You are an amazing boy..."
I grimaced at the term. Hell, I wasn't amazing. But I wasn't a boy either.
Lord Ashton chuckled. "Sorry. You are a man, just a young one. But you have presented me with a problem."
I frowned at him. I hadn't meant to make more problems for him. I thought I was solving one—by telling him who Barrett's spy could be.
"Well, now I need to figure out how to determine who 'Lee' is. I can't imagine that it would be Liam, Charlie, or Donnelly, as you have suggested. Maybe there is someone else..." his voice drifted off as he tried to think of others who might have the 'Lee' connotation in their name.
I struggled up onto my elbows to be able to face Lord Ashton better, but dizziness swamped me and I realized my lack of food and drink along with the exertion of standing so long, still left my body quivering. The room tilted before I could close my eyes to stave off the spiraling haze.
"Kye!" Lord Ashton's voice was suddenly closer. "Come on, stay with me, okay?"
I nodded, an odd knocking sound resonating with each of my head movements, causing me to frown. My head never banged like that when I'd moved it before. I nodded again, but the noise was silent. Strange... my eyes flickered open briefly.
"Come in..."
"Sorry to bother you, Lord Ashton..." Hmm, a new voice, deeply resonant... "But Marcus sent me to let you know we were able to get four new horses today. We'll look for more after we return."
"Fine, fine, Reth," the viscount sounded irritated with the rambling report. "Get the doctor for me. Now. He's in Rowland's room..."
"Sir? Are you—" Apparently, Ashton's man was worried he'd been injured. I wondered if I'd inadvertently hurt the man when he'd tried to carry me. I took a deep breath, hearing a creak that made me wonder if my chest was now making noises. But it was just the door, swinging wider as the man stepped in to check on the health of the viscount.
"Oh! Oh, Gods!" That new voice became distinctly panicked, startling me. What had happened to Lord Ashton? What had I done?
My eyes shot open, attempting to find the injury on the man looming over me.
"Kye?"
My heart jumped as I sought out the voice. Oh, gods it sounded so much like...
"Kye!"
Tareth? Tareth? No, no, no. I squeezed my eyes shut at the apparition of my brother. No, it couldn't be. I had truly lost my mind now. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as I fought to control myself. I'd already fallen so low, to now be hallucinating about my brother... in front of Lord Ashton... he'd know I was insane.
"...you know him?"
No, no, no, no. I chanted in my head, not wanting to hear this imposter's words. It couldn't be him. I didn't want it to be him. Tareth must never know what I'd become, what I was...
"...yes, sir..."
A hand brushed over my cheek and I flinched.
"...he's my brother..."
No—
- 54
- 4
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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