But Elias’s beauty and his sexuality belong to me.Ihave brought them forward. Elias Rose has bloomed for me.
The closer we get to Saul’s apartment, however, the farther I get from Elias. I’m not there to watch him, to keep others away. And therewillbe others. Others will see what Saul has finally seen.
Elias is too beautiful—and too beautifully submissive.
He crouched in front of me tonight like it was the most natural thing in the world. I didn’t know if it would work. I couldn’t be sure that he would notice my shoelace or, even if he did, how he would respond. But he did notice, my observant Elias, and he seized on the opportunity to serve, to submit, to be praised.
But what makes Elias such a beautiful puzzle is that he’s not actually soft. He’s a deliciously twisted little masochist. He’s perfect for me. So fucking perfect.
No one else gets to have him. I don’t even want anyone else around him.
My footsteps falter.
What use, then, to kill Saul? There would just be another and another.
I need Elias where I can see him at all times. I need him where it’s clear that he belongs to me—and where I can play both of my roles with him. Neither role alone is enough.
And Idoneed structure for this role, external structure. If I shape it, it will get very dark, very fast. The game will be over too soon.
I need Elias to submit another fantasy.
He needs it too. It was obvious this afternoon in his drooping shoulders, his disappointment. It was obvious in the way he dropped so eagerly to his knees in front of me.
But he makes such a piss-poor wage. There’s no way he can afford another submission to ForbiddenX.
The answer comes to me so fully formed that I realize some compartment of my brain had already been working on the problem. Another part of my brain objects because, while it’s a perfect solution, it’s also a very bad idea.
But then … it was also a bad idea to blackmail Peter Grange and take his hotel. I’ve had a lot of bad ideas. They usually end in blood. Maybe this one will too.
But that’s to be expected, isn’t it, when a sadist and a masochist play a game?
I decide not to kill Saul, but I don’t stop following him. I let him hear my footsteps. I let him understand that he’s prey. And I very much enjoy his stumbling footsteps as he hurries to the door of his apartment building. I enjoy it so much that I laugh.
Oh, it’s eerie and cruel. I don’t really blame Saul for his yelp as he yanks open the door and scrambles to safety.
***
I give it two days. I have things to put in place. Elias will have access to a lot of my files, so I have to remove some things. He’ll be in my office and penthouse, so a few items have to be hidden. Then there’s his apartment to prepare.
In spite of this extra, unplanned work, I get caught up from my absence. I smooth things over with Gina after missing the meeting with the wedding planner. I find myself focused and actually enjoying my role at The Axis because I’m thinking about all the ways I can use it.
I still watch Elias walk to and from work. It’s a compulsion. To see him, yes, but also to make sure that nothing happens to him.
I wish that I had killed Saul after all because during the two days of preparation, I have no control over his interactions with Elias. But I am secure in the knowledge that what Elias needs, only I can provide.
That doesn’t mean, however, that Elias isn’t going to balk. I’m sure he will. But I’m ready for that. He’ll do what I say.
On the third day, dressed casually in jeans and a leather jacket, I go in long after the deli has closed, when Elias is alone at the store in its last, quiet hour.
From outside, I see that he’s at the register. He’s leaning down, writing something on a notepad. The shaggy sweep of his dark hair obscures part of his face.
He looks up at the sound of the door, jolting when he’s sees that it’s me. I’ve never come in this late and, from his perspective, I’ve been away for several days.
“Hi,” he says, still bent down to write but with his pen frozen.
“Hello, Elias.”
“You’re, um … it’s late.”
