“I feel like I lied to him.”
“You didn’t lie. You were my good boy and said exactly what needed to be said right now. You followed orders perfectly.”
“He’s so upset.”
“Well, if you’re right that he had a tracking app on my phone, maybe he’s worried about me.”
I hope.
Another flash of guilt tries to work through me and I shove it to the side.
Elliot’s brow furrows. “When are you going to tell him, Sir?”
“I haven’t yet decided how to handle that.” There’s too much emotional sewage rolling around inside me, and, for now, I need to focus on Elliot.
His needs far outweigh mine.
Elliotneedsme.
Again, I know, Iknow.I’m self-medicating via Elliot.
Igetit.
I don’t need Leo’s psychology degree to tell me that.
Maybe there’s more than a little perverse satisfaction rolling through me at the thought of Leo maybe being worried about me.
Okay,fine.Fuck. Not maybe—there’s alotof perverse satisfaction rolling through me right now.
I finally get Elliot calmed and settled so we can resume eating, even though my appetite’s mostly gone.
“Do you want me to tell him for you, Sir?” he softly asks. “That you’re back and working for me?”
Actually…that’s very touching that he’d consider doing that. “No, boy. I don’t want you doing that. I will deal with him in my own way and time.” Iboophis nose with my finger. “And that isdefinitelyanorder.” He relaxes at that, at being told he can just let go.
Once I have him asleep in bed, I retrieve my personal tablet from my room and power it up. I haven’t opened my personal laptop since arriving in DC because I’ve been too damned busy.
In retrospect, maybe that’s a good thing. No telling what Leo might have put on it.
I bought this tablet after I moved to Tallahassee, because my old one died when I accidentally dropped it in the kitchen sink.
And the other way I check my personal e-mail is on my phone.
Well, duh.
So I log into my e-mail on my tablet, and…
Holy shit.
I have fifteen e-mails from Leo asking me to please text or call him. The earliest one, sent the day after I returned to DC with Elliot, is sort of casually phrased, just checking in, missing me, wanting to know how I’m doing, and…
Heh. Apologizing for not being in touch lately.
More guilty glee rolls through me.
The next e-mail, sent two days after that, is a follow-up, and a “just wanted to make sure you received my e-mail” kind of e-mail.
The third one reveals Leo’s growing alarm and stops short of demanding I check in with him.
