He nodded.
“I’ll show you where to put my things.”
On numb feet he followed Master. Tilly didn’t appear to be home. Master walked into the master bedroom and opened several drawers in a large dresser. A few of his things, the clothes slave knew he’d taken with him, already lay there neatly folded. “You can put my things there, and in the closet.” He walked over to a large walk-in closet and flipped on the light. “There.” He pointed.
He led him back through the house to the garage. “Laundry is in there. That will be one of your jobs, of course. Not just for us, but for her as well.” He led him down the hallway again, to what looked like an office. “Set up my laptop in here, on that desk. I’ll be getting another desk and we’ll rearrange later.”
He left that room, down one more door. The slave needed no explanations for this room’s use.
“You might be spending a lot of time in here if you don’t behave yourself,” Master teased. “Or even if you do.” He turned on him, his face hardening. “You have two choices, and only two: stay, or leave. If you stay, you stay under my terms. There will be no negotiations, no safe words, no equality. You gave up all rights to that by your actions. Do you understand me?”
The slave nodded.
“Good.” Master headed back to the kitchen, slave on his heels. “Sit.” He pointed at the table.
The slave sat.
A legal pad lay in front of Master’s chair. He’d started a list on it. He sat and added to it. “You will coordinate moving our things from California. We’ll need a large enough storage unit close to the house to put our things. Next week you’ll fly back home, arrange the move and a car transporter, and handle any issues at work that need personal attention.” He made a few more notes. “I will handle transferring the bank accounts. If they need personal signatures, you can do that while you’re out there.”
He looked up at slave. “We are living here for the foreseeable future. Make sure when you pack that you clearly label cartons so we can easily find things we’ll need here, versus things that have to go to storage. I will not be able to help you unpack, so keep that in mind.”
The slave had thought nothing could break through his stunned fog, except that cryptic comment. He desperately wanted to ask what he meant by it and forced himself to remain silent.
After a few more minutes, Master sat back, stared at his list, then turned the legal pad around and shoved it across the table. “Read through that. If anything needs clarification, you may ask about that and nothing else.”
He tried to focus on the words and not his emotions. After three read-throughs, he nodded.
Master had been crystal-clear. No explanations needed. He looked up at Master and waited.
Master’s green eyes bored into his. “My cancer’s back,” he said.
Well, he’d been wrong thinking he’d hit bottom. The three words echoed through his brain, seizing his heart in a hard, cold grip.
Master continued, “I have a biopsy scheduled for Wednesday.”
The slave hated that he felt the tears in his eyes. He closed them and swallowed, trying to control himself, not wanting to break down.
“The only reason I’m telling you now is because I wanted to be the one to tell you and I know you’ll probably hear about it later tonight.” He stared at slave for a moment. “You may speak.”
The slave looked at him. “I love you,” he whispered. “Please don’t make me leave. Please let me stay with you and be with you for this.”
For the first time, he saw his Master’s expression soften. “I’m not going to make you leave.
Well, I mean leave our relationship. You have to be the one to go to California to handle the move because I’ll be going through treatments. Tilly will be here for me while you’re gone. The Realtor said he has an offer on the house. You will, however, go through your own hell before you come out on the other side. If you choose to leave, that will be your decision to make, not mine.” Master looked at him for a long time before speaking again. “I do love you, Cris, but I’m human. You know how I am.
Before I can move forward, I need my pound of flesh out of you for this. It’s the only way my healing and hers can begin.”
The slave nodded but didn’t speak.
“I feel guilty for what we’ve had for the past few years. I thought I had my angel back. Then to find out what you did to her…” He looked away for a moment, composing himself before returning his attention to slave. “She went through hell because of what you did to her. I can never repay her for that.
I can never give her back the peace of mind she lost when you betrayed her. You didn’t just take her happiness. You stole her trust and broke her heart. She deserved better than that from you.”
Master sat back, his hard mask descending again. “We will leave here at six-thirty for our appointment tonight. Wear jeans, black shirt, and your formal collar. You will not speak tonight, no matter what is said to you, unless I give you permission to do so. Understand?”
The slave nodded.
“This is what is going to happen. From Wednesday on, my focus will be on my health and my healing. Tilly and I have an arrangement in place. For the next three years, she will be with me, helping me through this. I’m amply compensating her for it, don’t worry. I am not taking advantage of her. This agreement is between her and myself, and she is looking forward to being able to use her nursing training again. You will obey her and any orders she gives you. You have no say in this whatsoever. I have also changed my will. If I die before the three years are up, she will get everything I have and whether she chooses to give you anything or not is up to her.”
He nodded, still stunned.
“As you can see, I am sleeping in her bed. I suppose you have now put together in your mind where the marks on my shoulders came from.”
He slowly nodded.
Master’s voice dropped almost to a growl. “Do not get in my way in regards to her, Cristo. If you try, you will find yourself out on your ass before you can blink. Any comments?”
He found his voice. “Please don’t hurt her, Master,” he whispered.
Master laughed. “I am not like you,” he said as he sat back. “I don’t go back on my promises.
And I promise I will never hurt her. She, on the other hand, might hurt you in ways you never imagined possible and far more deeply than I ever could.” He glanced at his watch. “Make me lunch. I want a salad with chicken. There are leftovers in the fridge.”
Master started to stand. The slave didn’t bother wondering how Master knew the contents of the fridge. “Master, may I ask you something else, please?”
“Yes.”
He took a deep breath. “How bad is your cancer?”
“We don’t know yet. That’s what the biopsy on Wednesday will determine. Make me lunch then put our things away. I’ll tell you what to do after that.”
Landry headed for the bedroom and took a deep breath. He must be losing touch with his sadistic side. He almost felt sorry for Cris when he dropped that bombshell on him about his cancer. He looked horrified.
He closed his eyes. Wednesday. He would push the envelope until then. From that point on, he would look forward, not back, and resume their previous relationship if Cris hadn’t bailed on him before then.
Whether Tilly could look forward was up to her.
After lunch he went to the office to catch up on email while Cris put their things away. He ignored Cris when he returned to the office after completing that task. Landry knew without looking that Cris stood in the doorway, waiting for his next instructions.