Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Ryell
Lane wipes the steam from the mirror and looks at his reflection, his eyebrows dipped.
“What’s up?” I ask, standing behind him without touching him.
If I do, I’ll have him bent over the counter, sucking and licking at his hole until he comes and then I won’t get to take him outside.
I told him I won’t break my word to him again, even if it’s something as small as going outdoors.
Any rimming has to wait until he gets some vitamin D.
He runs his hand over his facial hair, still scowling. “Can I have a razor? I don’t like the beard. I never grow one. This feels…weird.”
I raise an eyebrow. While I have razors since I don’t like a beard either, I removed them for my safety and Lane’s.
I’m not sure where his head is, and if he’ll try to take himself out as opposed to staying with me.
And I also didn’t want him to find a way to separate the blade from the handle and try to hurt me.
He might be weaker than me, but a well-placed slice will kill me, no matter his strength.
But if I want Lane to trust me, I have to trust him, too.
So I step out of the bathroom—not bothering to cuff his ankle since he would have to get past me and my closed bedroom door to run—and step inside my closet.
Right near the door is my safe. I put in the combination, then open it, pulling out a brand-new razor.
When I return to the bathroom, I see Lane has already added shaving cream to his cheeks and chin.
I hand him the razor, but before I let it go, I say, “Do I have to shave you?”
I’m sure he knows what I’m asking: Will you try something idiotic with this sharp razor blade in your hands?
Lane shakes his head. “No. I just want to get this hair off my face. That’s all.”
I hold on for a second longer, then release the razor. Lane turns to the mirror and runs the blade down his left cheek in a smooth motion. He sighs almost in ecstasy and after rinsing the blade off, does it again.
More and more of his face comes into view, and I see how much weight he’s really lost. An unexpected pang shoots through me as I roam my gaze over his body.
I’ll make sure he eats and gains back his weight.
He looks good to me like this—I’m sure he’ll always look good to me—but with his skin hanging off him and his belly hollow, he’s… incomplete.
After a few more minutes, Lane is sans beard, happiness evident on his face. “God, that feels good,” he murmurs.
I grab the lotion from the counter and pump some into my hands. Reaching around him, I rub it onto his cheeks, soothing the naked skin.
Lane meets my eyes in the mirror and gives me a small smile. “Thank you.”
I grunt, though I grin at him. “Ready to go outside?”
He nods, his face shining with eagerness.
After we get dressed, I lead him out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Lane stops walking when he sees the door that leads down to my basement, staring at it with a glazed look in his eyes.
“You want to go out front?” I ask, not sure what else to do.
Lane studies the door for another moment, then shakes himself. “No. We can…we can…go.”
I hold my hand out and Lane takes it, letting me lead him through the back door.
The smile that spreads across his face once we’re outside is breathtaking. I admire his profile as he tips his head back, taking in how gorgeous he is. Still pale and his cheeks hollow, but he’s fucking beautiful.
When he lowers his head and opens his eyes to look at me, he’s still smiling. “What?” he asks, a blush climbing up his cheeks.
I just shake my head. “Come on.” I take his hand, and we walk through my backyard.
My property sits on a few acres of land with no neighbors for about three miles and an old logging road at the edge of the property, so I don’t have to worry about him getting away and telling anyone I’m holding him captive.
We walk slowly, Lane gazing at his surroundings, smiling softly.
“It’s pretty here,” he says after we’re silent for a few minutes. “How did you find this place?”
I give him a long look, then say, “I needed something secluded, and I wanted a lot of privacy. Not just for…what I do but because I don’t like neighbors.”
“What about…if something…like a fire…” He tilts his head. “Won’t you need someone, Daddy?”
A zing shoots through me, but I tamp it down. “I haven’t before.”
“Where does your brother live? Close by?”
“No. He lives in the city. About half an hour away. He visits sometimes.”
Lane looks at me sharply. “Did he…come while—”
“He hasn’t been here in a few months.”
“Does he know you have…company?”
I look at Lane, wondering if I should lie to him. I mean, I lied when I said Jacob hasn’t been over in a few months, but I don’t count him helping me dismember and dispose of a body as visiting.
“Yes,” I say. “He knows.”
He turns slightly green. “Is he…”
“A psychopath?” I fill in for him. Lane nods. “Yeah. He’s like me. But he doesn’t kill. It’s too messy for him. He likes to channel his psychopathy by being a ruthless businessman.” I glance over at him. “He’s an architect.” His face shows recognition, then he chuckles softly with an eye roll.
“So you told me you wanted to be a doctor but became an architect. So I take it you just swapped you and your brother’s professions?”
I shake my head. “It’s not that simple. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to be an architect.
” We reach the wooded edge of my property and walk the perimeter slowly.
It’ll be dark in about an hour, and I want Lane to get as much of the sun as he can to bring that healthy tan back, not this ghostly pallor he’s rocking.
“But I ended up transferring to college with a pre-dental program during my freshman year.”
“Why?” he asks, peering at me with curious eyes.
I bring us to stop. “Do you really want to know? I’ll tell you, but I’m not sure you can handle it.”
He gives me a dry look. “I know who you are. I’ve been studying your work for years. I’ve seen what you do. I think I can handle what you’ve done in your past, Daddy.”
I can tell that he’s warring with himself to accept what I do or what I’ve done. Will I be making it worse if I tell him about crimes he’s never known about?
Fuck it. He’ll just have to figure out how he feels about it with himself. I won’t apologize for who I am.
Nodding, I grab his hand so we can keep walking, making our way slowly back to the house.
“I initially enrolled at the same college as Jacob. Though I don’t have the capacity to love like most people, I love my brother and wanted to be just like him.
I figured we could start a firm when I graduated, and we’d take the architecture world by storm.
But we both had to pretend that we were normal.
Jacob had an easier time of it, making friends even if he didn’t really care about them.
I was always quiet, kept more to myself. ”
“The poster child of a murderer,” Lane says quietly.
“Exactly. So, to try to avoid that perception, I wanted to rush a frat. Those are lifelong friends or some shit they peddle to recruits.”
Lane nods.
“I thought that was best. It was hell. Not them hazing me, that was whatever. My dad did worse. But knowing I couldn’t kill them, that I had to allow them to fuck with me and I couldn’t gouge their fucking eyes out was hard.”
“What stopped you? Did you have someone like me around?” he asks, and I think I detect a hint of jealousy in his tone. That’s adorable. “Someone that you promised you wouldn’t hurt anyone?”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t want to go to prison.
I had to keep myself in check so I would remain free.
I had only killed one person before. I didn’t want to risk being arrested before me and my brother could work together.
” Lane pales but doesn’t say anything, so I keep talking.
“I was doing okay until one hazing incident where I was pushed down a flight of stairs.”
“Oh my god,” Lane says, his hand flying to his mouth. “Why the fuck did they do that?” Then his eyes grow wide. I’m sure he’s surprised at himself for caring about what happened to someone like me.
I laugh and shake my head. We’re at the back door, but I don’t want to go in yet. So I sit down in one of the chairs on the back porch and pull Lane onto my lap. He sighs and leans into me, wrapping his arms around my neck.
“Part of a ceremony,” I answer him after a few beats of silence.
I pull Lane closer, close enough where there’s no space between us and keep recounting my past. “The other recruits and I had been drinking for most of the day, and we had to prove that we weren’t afraid of pain.
So some of the brothers pushed me. I was the only one who broke a bone.
My ankle.” I lift my right foot unnecessarily.
“When I came back after getting patched up, I was told I was weak because of that, and they didn’t want someone with brittle bones to join their frat.
Everyone but the President and his best friend thought it was bullshit, but what could I do? ”
“You killed them for not letting you rush?” he asks and I can hear the incredulity in his voice.
“No, baby boy. I murdered them because they tried to humiliate me.” I clench my fists, still hearing the echoes of their laughter as I walked away.
“How?” he asks. I look at him with a raised eyebrow. “How did you kill them?”
“I pushed the president off a balcony, and I bashed his friend’s head in with a brick.”
He shivers in my arms but doesn’t try to withdraw. Lane is mine. If he can sit on my lap while I tell him about a murder without wanting to get away from me, he fucking belongs to me, his badge be damned.
“Do I scare you, Lane?” I ask after we’re quiet for a while.
“Little bit.” He leans away so he can meet my eyes. “But this…caring side is making my head spin. I’m taking this one day at a time, until you decide to get rid of me, so I’m trying not to be afraid.”