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Nathaniel answered that one. “Richard blames himself for Gregory’s injuries. If we offer him a chance to heal him, he’ll come.”

I stared at Nathaniel, watched the intelligence in those flower-colored eyes. It was one of the most insightful things I’d ever heard him say. It gave me just a little hope, that indeed Nathaniel could be made whole—that he was getting better. I needed some hope just then, but it was still unnerving for Nathaniel to know Richard so well, to be that observant. It meant that I’d underestimated Nathaniel. I kept equating submissiveness with being inferior, and that wasn’t really the case. Some people choose to be bottoms, to serve; it doesn’t make them less, just different. I looked into his face and wondered what else I’d missed, or what else he’d show me? It was a night for revelations, so why the hell not have Richard join us? How much worse could it get? Please, no one answer that.

32

I BRUSHED MY teeth and sat at the kitchen table in the dark, drinking coffee while we waited. Nathaniel padded barefoot into the room, his hair swinging loose around his bare chest and the jean shorts he’d put on.

“How’s Gregory?” I asked.

“Dr. Lillian put an IV in him, to help with the shock, she said.” He stopped beside the table, not quite in front of me.

“An IV. Richard will be here within an hour or less. If she put an IV in then . . .” I let my voice trail off.

Nathaniel finished for me. “Gregory’s very hurt.”

I looked up at him in the darkened kitchen. The only light was the small one over the sink. It left most of the room in thick shadows. “You don’t mean the injuries he got from the wolves, do you?”

He shook his head, all that hair sliding around his body. A long heavy strand slid over one shoulder, and he tossed his head to flip it back behind him. I’d never been around a man that had such long hair, who was so comfortable with it.

“He kept talking about Raina,” Nathaniel said, “kept swearing under his breath.” His voice had dropped low, almost a whisper. He was staring over my head at things I couldn’t see, and probably didn’t want to.

I touched his arm. “You alright?”

He looked down at me, smiled, but not like he was happy. He moved his hand so he was holding mine. His grip was tight like he needed the comfort.

“Talk to me, Nathaniel.”

“I gave you copies of three of my movies.” He smiled, wide this time, before I could say anything. “I know you’ve never watched them. When I gave them to you, I still thought you were like Gabriel and Raina, that it had to be sex, that you would like that they were porn. I understand now that you’ll take care of us no matter what, not because you lust after us or because you love one of us, but just—because.” He went to his knees, still holding my hand, pressing it against his chest with both his own. He laid his head on my lap, his face turned away from me. I moved a thick line of hair away from his face, so I could see his profile as he leaned against me.

We sat there for a few moments, me waiting for him to continue, him maybe waiting for me to prompt him, but the silence wasn’t strained. One of us would fill it when we were ready, and we both knew that. He was the one who sighed, keeping one hand on my hand, pressed to him, his other hand curling around my leg. I could feel the beat of his heart against the back of my hand.

“I did more movies than just those three. Most of them with Raina. Gabriel wouldn’t let her have me as a lover, or a slave. I think he knew she’d kill me, but on film where things could be controlled . . .” He hugged his body against mine, clinging.

“What happened?” I said, softly.

“She did that to Gregory on her own, as a kind of . . . fun. But when he survived it, she wanted to do a version of it on film.”

I went very still for a second or two. I think I stopped breathing, because when my breath finally did come out, it shook. “You?” I made it a question.

He nodded his head, cheek still pressed to my thigh. “Me.”

I stroked his hair, stared down into that young face. He was six years younger