Chapter Eight
Terry dried off the last dish from the drainer and put it in its proper space in the cupboard.
Ever since Phil and Gerard had started working together, things had shifted back to how they’d been when he and Phil had begun the new incarnation of their relationship.
It was odd how comforting a feeling it was.
The middle of January was approaching, and the angel and demon series would be beckoning him soon.
He’d signed a contract with them, which he wouldn’t dream of breaking, but a thought had been rattling through his brain lately and he figured it was about time to bring it up to his Master for discussion.
With him so busy again, it would only make sense.
Terry checked on his baked potatoes, squinching up his face at the blast of heat when he opened the oven door.
After poking each of the large russets a few times, he decided they could use another ten or fifteen minutes.
Once they were done, he would scoop out the insides to mash, then fill the potatoes with a ground meat mixture that was from a recipe he’d gotten from his mom.
Then he would top them with the mashed potato middles before returning them to the oven.
The final touch would be to sprinkle them with cheese about five minutes before it was time to remove them from the heat.
He set out the large skillet, then got to work preparing the filling of ground lamb, sauce, onions and green peas.
The reality was that he no longer needed—nor did he have much of an interest in— working on location or at the studios.
When he’d originally come to Hollywood, his only intention had been to pursue portrait work.
Doing headshots had been a way of achieving a name for himself.
The only reason he’d ever begun doing set photography at all was because Phil had recommended him.
Then, he’d kept on accepting the jobs to combat the loneliness and melancholy after Phil had left for Toronto.
But now everything had changed. They didn’t need the money and he could have a fulfilling career, the career he’d dreamed of all along, by going back to working on portraits and portfolio shots only.
So I can be more available to take care of the house and my Master.
Just thinking about it filled him with excitement. I’ll bring it up to him tonight.
Terry continued with the preparations for their meal while also practicing in his head the best way to broach the subject regarding his desired career adjustment.
He doubted it would be an issue. But part of their dynamic was that they discussed everything together before making any final decisions.
A frantic knock surprised him out of his reverie.
He frowned, wondering if Phil had forgotten his keys.
He highly doubted that would be the case coming from such a meticulously organized man.
The banging became more insistent. Not knowing what to expect, Terry turned off the oven and stove top, moving the meat mixture to a cool burner and covering it with a lid.
He wiped his hands on a towel, untied his apron, tossing it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs as he hurried to answer the door, the knocking increasing in desperation.
Right as he was about to grab the knob, he paused.
His hand shook, and he swallowed hard. A flash of opening the studio door to a serial killer and rapist came to life in his mind and he fought against the panic that shot through him from the memory.
After the attack, he and Phil had purchased a stronger door to the studio which included a peephole.
“Please, Terry. Please can you let me in?”
Marco? What the fuck.
All hesitation was gone as he flung the door wide. He gasped as Marco hurled himself into his arms, the action so sudden that Terry had to steady himself to keep from stumbling back and falling.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Terry fought against the awkwardness of holding Marco without their Masters around, but he needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with the clearly terrified sub.
Marco tensed, clutching him tighter, his voice muffled as he buried his face in Terry’s chest. “Shut it! Shut the door before he comes!”
Marco’s pleas jolted him into action. He shoved Marco behind him in an almost simultaneous motion as he slammed the door closed, smacking the brass latch-guard into place. Sweat gathered on Terry’s upper lip, his breath coming in short pants.
Is it him? Did Master Joe or his partner, Norm escape somehow?
Marco tugged on his hand, yanking him from his terrible thoughts. “Come on, Terry. Can I sit with you until we find my Master?” His voice was as soft as ever, but the lilting Spanish accent was tinged with fear. “I need you right now, I don’t want them to take me away.”
Terry regarded Marco’s tear-streaked face, his heavily-lashed brown eyes staring up at him as if Terry could miraculously protect him somehow.
I already proved how hopeless I am at that.
He frowned. But I won’t let what those assholes did to me leave me cowering every time the fucking doorbell rings or someone knocks on the door.
“Okay, let’s sit on the couch together while you fill me in on what’s happening. Or… should I call nine-one-one?”
Marco squeezed his hand tighter, shaking his head. “No, they won’t help. They never do. But you’ll hold me, right? I need someone to hold me and Master isn’t here and I don’t trust or like anyone else except you.”
Terry arched his eyebrows. “Uh, of course I want to do that, but what about Master Gerard? Will he be angry with me?” Will Phil?
“I won’t kiss you, I promise.” Marco tugged harder.
“A-all right.” So out of my element here. He offered Marco a smile. “We’ll figure this out together. I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Marco smiled back in his unique way. Teeth were never involved, nor a wide grin or the crinkling of his eyes. For Marco, his smiles would encompass a brightening of his typically calm and somewhat blank features accompanied by a slight pull at the corners of his mouth.
“Thank you, Terry. I knew you would help.”
Help? I have no fucking idea what’s going on.
Terry allowed himself to be led to the living room, marveling at how comfortable Marco seemed in a house he’d never been to before.
Marco reached the long sofa and landed on it before yanking Terry’s hand with both of his until he’d plopped down onto it to join him.
Right as Terry sucked in a breath to speak, Marco crawled into his lap and snuggled up to him. Terry snapped his jaw shut.
Oh boy. He tentatively wrapped his arms around Marco, not sure if he was doing the right thing after all. I need to get hold of Phil immediately.
“Uh, Marco, how did you get here?” He remembered overhearing Gerard tell Phil at one point that Marco didn’t drive.
“I called the limo service my Master always uses. I don’t like riding with strangers, but the one driver we use the most often was available.” Marco shuddered. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t been on duty.”
Terry rubbed Marco’s trembling back. “But he was, and that’s what matters. Can you tell me why you’re so afraid?”
Marco buried his face in Terry’s neck, the shaking increasing as hot tears splashed against Terry’s skin. “He’s so bad, so bad. He lies when he talks about love, not like Master. I need my Master.”
“Shh, it’s okay, we’ll find Master Gerard and he’ll fix everything.”
Marco peered up at him. “Oh, thank you, Terry. I knew I should come here.”
Speaking of Master Gerard… “Marco, how come you weren’t able to get hold of him?”
“I had to break my phone. The moment I knew it was him, I had to destroy it so he couldn’t…
so they wouldn’t find me.” Marco blinked away more tears, but his voice no longer shook.
“They have locaters inside the phones, you know. They can find you from your cell. But maybe he already knew I was there at the house, had already found me and was trying to keep me on the line so he could snatch me away while my Master wasn’t home.
” Marco buried his face again and clutched at Terry’s shirt. “We have to find Master, right now.”
Terry swallowed hard. Jesus. Maybe Marco had issues they weren’t aware of, was delusional. Nothing he was saying made any sense.
“Yeah, excellent plan. Let’s find Master Gerard.” Terry licked his lips, his throat dry from his recent panic. “Uh, can you let me up so I can grab my phone? I left it on the kitchen table.”
Marco tensed in his embrace. “Don’t let me go.”
“No, no. Of course not. However, I’m pretty sure my Master and your Master are out together working. The kitchen is close, right behind us. All I gotta do is run there, grab my cell, then run right back. Then we can call them, and everything will be fine.”
Marco gave him another soft smile and Terry released some of the tension he only just realized he’d been holding.
“Okay. I trust you. But very fast, okay?”
“Very fast. I promise.”
Come on, Master Gerard. Please be with Phil.
After he’d disentangled himself from Marco, careful to keep his movements gentle, he rushed to the kitchen.
When he’d reached his phone, he snatched it up, then paused.
He chewed on his bottom lip, wondering whether he should let Marco overhear the conversation or keep his promise that he’d return to the living room immediately, almost groaning aloud from the stress of having to make the decision.
He shoved aside the thought that being mastered was what he’d needed all along.
Oh great and powerful Master Phil, right again.
Terry rolled his eyes and decided to go with keeping his promise.