proper submissive should. Then as if that wasn’t good enough he accused her of infidelity, swore that I wasn’t his.” Josiah snorts in remembered bitterness at the pain he’d felt when the father he’d adored from afar had refused to even acknowledge him. He’d been young but not stupid and he’d always paid attention.
“It was an obvious lie and everyone had to have known it. I’ve seen old pictures of him and I’m practically a carbon copy of the man. Still in the end it didn’t matter. The accusation was enough to destroy any standing she’d had in society and within the week he’d Disavowed her and disinherited me. Nicolette, my mother, had nothing after that, no friends, no credits, no family and no reputation to speak of. Draxon was old fashioned and believed that her duties should revolve only around him and his household so she had no skills either.”
Josiah feels the way Rafe tightens his arm around his stomach, the way he burrows his head further into the warmth of his chest. He knows that Rafe’s a strong and fierce man, but he also knows that he’s fragile now in a way he’s never been, that his fire and flash are buried under pain and depression, and Josiah doesn’t want to upset him. Rafe squeezes him tightly then, a wordless plea for him to continue so he puts his reservations aside and goes on.
“We lived on the street for a while, and then in a few run down apartments that barely deserved the name.”
Josiah smiles slightly, the memory of peeling paint and chipped plaster, of sour smelling air and patched curtain floating across his mind.
“I remember that she was too proud to go to Sanctuary, too proud to consider herself in need of that kind of help. Then when I was six the men came, muscle from a local thug I found out later, and we both ended up in one of the less reputable pleasure houses. Looking back on it I’m amazed that they let her keep me at all, but I guess it didn’t really matter anyways because the place was a nightmare. She…she tried her best but she didn’t make it a year there before some out of control dominant without any limits went a step too far. She held me while she cried and I remember her apologizing and I was so confused about why. It took her two 4days to die and when she wouldn’t wake up no matter what I tried I ran away.”
“Josiah…” Rafe’s voice is soft and sorrowful and Josiah just presses a kiss into the crown of his head and keeps talking.
“I ate out of dumpsters and avoided the enforcers for as long as I could before I was dragged kicking and screaming into the orphans program of the armed forces. Marx isn’t my real last name; it’s the name the people in my barracks, the ones who eventually became my family of sorts, gave me since I didn’t actually have one. They even designed my crest for me. Draxon took even that from us both, had our names stricken from the records so we couldn’t claim relation. After that I didn’t really have any other options. I stayed there, eventually joined Crimson Elite and then retired when my last tour was over. I just wanted out after that, wanted to find some way to make an actual difference. So I became an enforcer instead.”
Josiah tightens his grip in Rafe’s hair, uses it to tilt the submissive’s head up so that he can look him in the eye.
“I know what it’s like to be hurt, Rafe. Not in the same way you were but I’ve seen other horrors. I would never do anything like that to you. The information I got, the files I was going through, a friend of mine from my old unit sent it to me. He’s always watched all of our backs and even after we disbanded he never stopped. He sent me things he knew would help, things he knew we’d need to settle this. None of it was to hurt you.”
He sees the embarrassment and shame in Rafe’s eyes at his words and wants nothing more than to be able to erase it. He knows that it’s something Rafe will have to conquer on his own, but Josiah
“It was an obvious lie and everyone had to have known it. I’ve seen old pictures of him and I’m practically a carbon copy of the man. Still in the end it didn’t matter. The accusation was enough to destroy any standing she’d had in society and within the week he’d Disavowed her and disinherited me. Nicolette, my mother, had nothing after that, no friends, no credits, no family and no reputation to speak of. Draxon was old fashioned and believed that her duties should revolve only around him and his household so she had no skills either.”
Josiah feels the way Rafe tightens his arm around his stomach, the way he burrows his head further into the warmth of his chest. He knows that Rafe’s a strong and fierce man, but he also knows that he’s fragile now in a way he’s never been, that his fire and flash are buried under pain and depression, and Josiah doesn’t want to upset him. Rafe squeezes him tightly then, a wordless plea for him to continue so he puts his reservations aside and goes on.
“We lived on the street for a while, and then in a few run down apartments that barely deserved the name.”
Josiah smiles slightly, the memory of peeling paint and chipped plaster, of sour smelling air and patched curtain floating across his mind.
“I remember that she was too proud to go to Sanctuary, too proud to consider herself in need of that kind of help. Then when I was six the men came, muscle from a local thug I found out later, and we both ended up in one of the less reputable pleasure houses. Looking back on it I’m amazed that they let her keep me at all, but I guess it didn’t really matter anyways because the place was a nightmare. She…she tried her best but she didn’t make it a year there before some out of control dominant without any limits went a step too far. She held me while she cried and I remember her apologizing and I was so confused about why. It took her two 4days to die and when she wouldn’t wake up no matter what I tried I ran away.”
“Josiah…” Rafe’s voice is soft and sorrowful and Josiah just presses a kiss into the crown of his head and keeps talking.
“I ate out of dumpsters and avoided the enforcers for as long as I could before I was dragged kicking and screaming into the orphans program of the armed forces. Marx isn’t my real last name; it’s the name the people in my barracks, the ones who eventually became my family of sorts, gave me since I didn’t actually have one. They even designed my crest for me. Draxon took even that from us both, had our names stricken from the records so we couldn’t claim relation. After that I didn’t really have any other options. I stayed there, eventually joined Crimson Elite and then retired when my last tour was over. I just wanted out after that, wanted to find some way to make an actual difference. So I became an enforcer instead.”
Josiah tightens his grip in Rafe’s hair, uses it to tilt the submissive’s head up so that he can look him in the eye.
“I know what it’s like to be hurt, Rafe. Not in the same way you were but I’ve seen other horrors. I would never do anything like that to you. The information I got, the files I was going through, a friend of mine from my old unit sent it to me. He’s always watched all of our backs and even after we disbanded he never stopped. He sent me things he knew would help, things he knew we’d need to settle this. None of it was to hurt you.”
He sees the embarrassment and shame in Rafe’s eyes at his words and wants nothing more than to be able to erase it. He knows that it’s something Rafe will have to conquer on his own, but Josiah
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