Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
The last thing Charlie expected was to fall asleep in a jostling, speeding carriage as it whisked him through the dark to some unknown place.
He’d seen a man killed, two of them, each shot in the head.
He’d come close to death on the streets of London, but that would have been a slow death, a quiet one.
He would never recover from seeing death roar with quick, merciless violence.
It still might come for him and Jonathan. That thought would not leave his head as the carriage hurtled them through the night. Hammond expected them to spend the night in their room, then to come downstairs to face whatever reckoning he had planned for the morning.
What would Hammond do when he and Jonathan were nowhere to be found? There was as good a chance as any that he would send the shadowy guards from Fairford House to seek them out in London and murder them.
No, they would murder Jonathan. Charlie would be taken away, like Fabian, possibly drugged and sold like chattel.
All of those things should have kept him rigid with terror as they fled.
But the world was quiet, but for the turning of the carriage’s wheels, the creak of its springs, and the vague sound of the horses’ hooves out front.
Charlie pressed against Jonathan, sharing his warmth in the chilly night.
Jonathan kept his arm firmly around Charlie, his hand solid at the back of Charlie’s neck.
It was too much for Charlie to resist. He tilted his head toward Jonathan’s shoulder, twisted his body slightly so he could cling to him, and with nothing but the indeterminate sounds of the carriage around them, he nodded off.
Jonathan must have fallen asleep, too. Some time later, Charlie had no idea how long, both of them jolted awake as the carriage came to a stop. It dipped and swayed, and then the driver appeared at the door.
“We’re on the outskirts of Swindon, sir,” the driver said quietly before knocking and opening the door. “It’s not yet dawn, so I could drive on, if you’d like.”
“Hmm?” Jonathan struggled to right himself from where he’d slumped against the side of the carriage. Charlie scrambled to sit straight as well.
“Dawn is coming,” the driver assured them. “I could take you to the station in Swindon and you could purchase tickets for the first train of the day.”
“Yes,” Jonathan said, rubbing his eyes. “Anything that will get us to London faster.”
“Very good, sir,” the driver said, then closed the door and mounted his seat again.
The carriage rolled on at a more sedate pace than their flight the night before. It was still dark inside the vehicle, but the edges of dawn light spilling across the horizon streamed through the windows, giving Charlie enough light to see by.
Neither he nor Jonathan was in much of a mood to talk.
They went about sorting their things, which did not take long, since all they’d brought with them were the satchel of photographic plates and the carpetbag filled with lenses and a few items of clothing.
By the time the driver rolled up to the edge of the station platform, they were ready to move.
“I am sorry I have nothing to spare to pay you with if we are to buy tickets,” Jonathan told the driver as he helped them down, nodding to the station office.
The driver shook his head and held up one hand. “I am employed by The Zagreus Den, sir. They will compensate me accordingly.”
He took a moment to show Jonathan and Charlie the tattoo of a snake curled into a heart on the back of his forearm.
Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. He’d trusted Mr. Thomas because of his tattoo, and seeing that same image etched into the driver gave him confidence that they really had been saved.
Jonathan was less certain. He remained silent as they headed into the station office, which was only just opening.
He purchased two first-class tickets, which Charlie considered a dubious extravagance when Jonathan had just said he could not pay the driver, while the ticket seller watched them with suspicious eyes.
Charlie didn’t like it. The man would remember them and would tell someone about them, if Hammond thought to question ticket sellers at train stations.
“Would you rather we sit in second-class, where everyone might see us?” Jonathan asked when he noted Charlie’s disapproval.
Charlie let go of his disapproval at once. Jonathan was right. A first-class compartment would keep them concealed from the world for the duration of their flight.
They had to wait nearly an hour for the first train. Luckily, there was an old woman selling tea and cakes on the platform, so they purchased a small meal to stave off hunger.
They bought a few more treats on the train later.
“I shouldn’t spend this money,” Jonathan said grimly as he sipped weak tea. “There’s no telling what waits for us in London. If Hammond has somehow managed to send word ahead of us to whomever he’s associated with in London, we could be flying out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
Charlie didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he hunkered down into himself as he took up the seat at Jonathan’s side, hands clasped around his teacup.
“You can still leave me, you know,” Jonathan said quietly after too much silence had passed.
Charlie stiffened and stared at Jonathan in alarm.
“I’m a failure,” Jonathan sighed, bowing his head. “Hammond is many things, but he was right about you being more intelligent than me. I am nothing but a fool who has hurt people without realizing it.”
“You are a man who was unprepared for the world,” Charlie said, his heart hurting to see the man who had changed his life suffering. He knew what it was like to be cast out into the world without preparation.
Jonathan shook his head and rubbed his face with his free hand. “I should have known better.”
“You know better now,” Charlie said, unable to bring himself to contradict Jonathan.
Jonathan peeked sideways, then softened into a smile. “You seem determined not to preserve yourself,” he said. “Why would you possibly wish to remain with me after all that?” He nodded out the train window at the rushing countryside, as if Fairford House were just beyond the horizon.
“You are clever and you are kind,” Charlie said.
Jonathan laughed humorlessly. “I am none of those things. I am blind and selfish.”
Perhaps on the surface, but Charlie had seen the hope and the yearning underneath all Jonathan’s faults.
He’d seen the agony of the neglect he’d received in the past and all the ways the coldness he’d been shown by his family had damaged him.
He saw all that and Jonathan’s conscience and natural inclination to be wicked and happy, too.
“You are handsome,” Charlie said after studying Jonathan for a while. He shrugged one shoulder, and when Jonathan gaped at him, he burst into a tired smile. “You’re good at fucking.”
Jonathan blinked, then laughed loudly. “Is that why you’re still here with me?” he asked, the warmth in his smile returning. “Because I fuck you well?”
“I need it,” Charlie said. He intended to be glib, but the words came out as serious. “I am too wild without you.”
Jonathan’s expression changed. Instead of turning grave, though, the warmth in his eyes began to smolder. “I know,” he said, cupping the side of Charlie’s face. “I’ve seen what you have in you. It excites me. It has from the moment you looked up at me from the gutter.”
Charlie’s heart pounded. He put his teacup aside and slipped off the seat, shifting to kneel between Jonathan’s feet, his hands resting on Jonathan’s thighs. He didn’t have the words for how he felt, so he bowed his head the way he’d seen the boy being trained in the parlor at The Zagreus Den do.
“Charlie.” Jonathan spoke his name like a caress, sweeping his hand around Charlie’s face. “Why? You are brilliant. You could give yourself to anyone in the entire world. You should give yourself to someone worthy. Why me?”
Charlie looked up at him. The feelings within him were far too big to express, but he knew he had to.
“You were kind to me,” he said, the words threatening to stick in his throat. “You didn’t have to be, but you were.”
“Anyone can be kind,” Jonathan argued, cupping Charlie’s face with both hands.
Charlie shook his head. “Too many men are not,” he said. “And….” He was less certain how to put his next feelings into words. They were too powerful and far too dangerous.
“And?” Jonathan prompted him, leaning closer. He was almost close enough to kiss him.
Charlie swallowed, holding Jonathan’s gaze as if it were a real lifeline between them. “And you need me,” he whispered.
Jonathan’s sly look dissolved into something potent and almost hurt. “I do need you,” he whispered. “I am lost without you. I need you to guide me.”
Charlie breathed those words in, letting them reverberate through him. “I need you to own me,” he replied as intensely as Jonathan had spoken.
They stayed still like that in the train car for several seconds, eyes locked, souls entwining. Finally, Jonathan let out a breath, dropped his head, and laughed. “It’s the two of us together now, I suppose,” he said.
Tears stung at Charlie’s eyes, and he smiled. He had no more words left, so he leaned forward, resting his head in Jonathan’s lap.
They stayed like that until the train whistle sounded that they were approaching the station. Their quiet moment was over, and the need to keep themselves safe took over again.
No one was waiting to drag them away in chains at the London station, which was a good thing. They even managed to hire a carriage to take them back to the shop in Marylebone.
More miraculous still, Jonathan’s shop and studio did not seem to be disturbed at all. A few notices from potential customers had been slipped under the door and half of the food in the kitchen had spoiled, but Hammond had not sent men after them.