The Right Hand Of The Father

Chapter 35

He stared at the note. The elegant scrawl of lies. The

signature beneath it. The bold slash of letters, the rapier

strike of the flourish at the end of each sentence. The upstrike

at the end of each word.

George had left him.

He had done what he needed to come home to George and they

had spoken and he'd explained his feelings. Declared himself to

George. Told him that he could not be his son. Could not love

him in that way. He was in love with George. Desired him. Needed

him in his bed and in his heart and in between his thighs and

George had accepted.

George had pressed his lips to Alexander's. Had climbed

into his bed and in between his legs and they had joined and it

was like nothing had changed.

They would continue to pretend for society but when they

were together they would be as they had been before. Alexander

would be his boy and George would be his daddy and they would

love each other properly again.

He had drifted off in George's arms and felt safe for the

first time in weeks. Had felt loved and adored and they were

together.

Then he'd woken up and found that parchment on his pillow.

The signature.

George had left him. Left him. Gave him his freedom and a

letter of introduction and some money to get him out of town. A

promise like the one he'd made Alexander's mother. Money will be

coming. I'll take care of you. Simply trust me to take care of

you.

Except Alexander's mother had ended up in a prison and then

they'd sold themselves in bonded servitude to Thom Stevens

because George had not taken care of them. Had cast them aside.

Had pushed them aside. Didn't love them enough to stay. To take

care of them properly.

He didn't love Alexander enough to stay.

He pushed himself out of the bed and started for the door.

Turned the handle and found it locked. Jiggled it. Hammered at

it with his fist. Heard footsteps on the stairs and pounded

harder.

"Mister Alexander?" Daniella's voice was faint outside the

door. "Do you need something, Sir?"

"I need you to let me out of the room," he said, trying to

keep his voice steady.

"I can't do that, Mister Alexander."

"Daniella." He could feel sweat along the nape of his neck.

"Please."

"Mister Alexander."