The Prince and the Painter (Part 2)

By Emily Carrington

As the tension mounts, Aaron and Jason must face their demons. But those demons never counted on the love between them growing from a single flame to a raging inferno. Now, just maybe their demons will have trouble with them.

Publisher’s Note: The Prince and the Painter Parts 1 & 2 are the prequel to Painter's Pride (Prince and Painter 1). For everyone who asked Jason and Aaron’s history, thank you.

Warning: The Prince and the Painter Parts 1 & 2 deal with issues of PTSD, M/M rape, hate crimes, stalking, kidnapping, and torture. Jason and Aaron’s stories may be triggers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Feb 14, 2020

Book preview

Carrington

The Prince and the Painter (Part 2)

Emily Carrington

As the tension mounts, Aaron and Jason must face their demons. But those demons never counted on the love between them growing from a single flame to a raging inferno. Now, just maybe their demons will have trouble with them.

Publisher’s Note: The Prince and the Painter Parts 1 & 2 are the prequel to Painter’s Pride (Prince and Painter 1). For everyone who asked Jason and Aaron’s history, thank you.

Chapter One

Six months previous

Aaron woke with a hangover. He couldn’t imagine even lifting his head off the pillow, never mind getting out of Jason’s bed.

Jason’s bed. That’s where I am. He’d slept there the night before, after sharing the fifth Jason had offered. I told Jason the truth. And I didn’t have any nightmares despite everything I told him. Of course, he hadn’t told Jason everything, but he’d told him the worst part. The rest, Mrs. Fielding’s treatment of him chief among it and even the rape, paled by comparison.

He squinted into the dimness and saw he was alone in the bed. The other bed had been slept in but was likewise empty. What time was it?

He struggled to a sitting position despite his pounding head. And found a note half tucked under the pillow where he’d been resting.

Good morning, Aaron. I have to show up at the tutoring center at ten, so that’s where I am. If you have time to get to class, I suggest you go. Griffin says resuming a normal routine as soon as possible will help. I don’t know if she’s right, but she knows more about healing than I’ll ever learn.

-- Jason

Realizing he was still in his jeans and T-shirt from last night, Aaron tucked the note, carefully folded, into his back pocket. Then he pushed himself out of bed. The room spun a little, but when he took a steadying breath, it stabilized.

If this is what a hangover’s like, he muttered, grimacing at the taste in his mouth, I’ll never get drunk again.

Jason’s door opened and Griffin, wrapped in a towel and nothing else, trudged in. She looked much less glamorous first thing in the morning, but still managed to carry herself with a regal tilt to her head. Morning, she muttered as if finding Jason’s boyfriend in his bed was normal.

Uh, hi. Do you know what time it is?

Ten-thirty.

Halfway through his calculus class. Aaron sighed. I guess I’ll go back to my dorm and change.

Probably for the best. But Griffin was looking at Aaron, nailing him to the spot with her gaze.

Aaron swallowed. What?

You’re a lost lamb. Jay loves lost lambs. But if you don’t bring anything to the table but heartache and horror, stay away from him. Griffin turned her back on Aaron and dropped the towel as she reached for clothes already arranged on her bed. "He’s gentle and he’s loving, but that doesn’t give you permission to use his nature against him. Unless you have something to offer him, and I mean something good, leave him alone. She sighed. Aaron, that came out more harshly than I intended. It’s just… Jason’s nature is loving. I don’t want to see him hurt."

Aaron stuffed his feet into his shoes. I’m not asking anything of Jason.

No? What about asking him to listen to the confession you gave yesterday?

I told him the most horrible thing that’s happened to me. Was that true? Which was worse, forced masturbation or rape? Maybe neither is worse. Maybe the worst were Vance’s hands and breath.

And he’s still trying to look out for you. If that’s not dedication, I don’t know what is. Griffin cast a glance over one shoulder. If you don’t have anything to bring…

To the table. I get it. Aaron escaped the room. He rushed down the stairs and through the common area. Once he was outside, he broke into a run. He had something to bring to Griffin’s metaphorical table. He had love and self-respect and self-love and passion and truth. His suicide prevention group had helped him realize all he still had to offer. He was strong. Able to stand on his own two feet.

And what did Griffin mean by getting involved anyway? What was Jason to her besides a roommate?

They’re friends, but Griffin’s acting more like a parent. This comparison eased some of Aaron’s anger. He respected a parent’s love for their children. Wasn’t that very love part of the reason his own mother was so protective?

But Griffin was not his mother, he reasoned as he slowed to a walk. He’d rounded the student union and was in sight of his dorm. Griffin’s just… a friend.

Like the older people in my group back home are just friends even when they act like parents.

This realization made Aaron lose all his anger toward Griffin. She would come around when she saw how much he cared for Jason. Calmed, he went into his dorm.

Today there was no note on the board. Aaron admitted he’d been watching for one. Thanking his lucky stars, he headed for his room. If he was quick, he could catch the end of his math class and get the homework.

He sniffed his pits. Well, maybe not. What I need first is a shower.

* * *

Jason was just about to pack up and leave the tutoring center for the day when Aaron poked his head in. He looked… well, hungover. He wore sunglasses that didn’t quite hide a haggard expression. In spite of that, Aaron was smiling. He held up a large sheet of paper covered with images of flowers. I didn’t know what your favorite flower was, so I drew all the ones I could think of.

Jason grinned as he took the page. It’s… His gaze rested on an ostentatious bloom in the upper right corner. What’s this one?

Aaron joined him, also grinning. It’s a Dr. Seuss flower. I don’t know what it’s called, but when I said I drew every flower I could think of, I didn’t restrict myself to reality.

I love it. What he loved more was that Aaron’s first thought had been of him. He set the picture aside and hugged Aaron close. How are you feeling?

Truthfully? Like hell. Remind me never to drink that much again. Aaron looked up at him. I know you’ve been letting me come to the realization that I need to talk to the police in my own time. Thank you for that.

Jason blinked. I guess I was. I just didn’t want to force you.

I’m ready now to tell them about Isaiah.

And about Vance.

Aaron shook his head. Statute of limitations.

What? No. Isn’t that something like seven years?

But everyone will want to know why I didn’t come forward right away. And there’s no proof. It’d be my word against his. No proof at all.

Jason could feel how tense Aaron was. All right, we’ll just talk to them about Isaiah. But you and I are going to write Vance a letter telling him to stop sending you Christmas cards. You didn’t save any of those, did you?

No way.

Jason nodded. He’d wanted to see what, exactly, Vance was writing to Aaron, but it made sense Aaron wouldn’t keep the letters.

The only ones I keep are from Mrs. Fielding. Aaron colored. And I haven’t kept her last couple like I’m supposed to.

Supposed to?

Aaron looked away. Yeah. He fidgeted. Do you want to go to lunch?

Sure. Jason picked up the large piece of paper. Can I fold this?

Aaron’s eyes were wide with mock horror. He was laughing. It’s your art now. Do with it what you will.

He liked that, Aaron not holding onto the present and giving it over. Thank you. He folded the page in half and tucked it into his backpack. Lunch?

They walked to the student union in silence, Aaron toying with the hem of his shirt and giving Jason sideways glances after removing his sunglasses. Whatever was eating him, Jason resolved to have it out before their meal was done.

It’s nothing, Aaron said when they were seated with their food. Not from last night, I mean. It’s just… He dropped his gaze.

Tell me? Jason took Aaron’s hand across the table.

Mrs. Fielding, Aaron burst out. She shouts at me and berates me and drags me through the mud and I have to accept it because if it wasn’t for me, Nate would probably still be alive.

That bombshell stunned Jason into silence. He’d been planning to talk Aaron through the forced masturbation, to calm him. But now… How many problems does this guy have?

Aaron squeezed Jason’s hand. That’s why shouting triggers me, but I didn’t want to confess that. My group back home already tried to talk me through it. I get that it’s not my fault Nate died, but it still feels like my fault. Aaron straightened his shoulders. I want to be with you and carry my burden at the same time. One won’t affect the other because I’m strong and sure. I can take care of myself and you too.

Jason looked down at their joined hands. Aaron’s conviction ran counter to what Jason knew about healing, but Aaron sounded so sure of himself. So unlike when Griffin had been hurting and Jason had helped her through things.

He leaned across the table and kissed Aaron over the cooling French fries.

When he sat back, Aaron was grinning and blushing. I guess that means you’ll accept me?

I accept your assertions. For now. But I reserve the right to change my mind.

"I’ll just have to go about proving to you that I’m sincere. So… what is your favorite flower?"

* * *

Interlude 1: Aaron

Present day

Chained to the bed by that single handcuff, Aaron watched Ben come into the room. He looked frightened. Like Aaron, he was naked.

Vance has gone out. He’ll be back soon. Ben stood by the door and didn’t meet Aaron’s gaze.

Where did he go? Not that Aaron cared. As long as Vance was far away, that was fine with him.

Ben shrugged. He’ll be back.

Where are we, Ben?

In Saltport.

Can you be more specific? Okay. In a house? He glanced at the closed window. They obviously weren’t in a basement or anything half as secluded.

We’re in a duplex.

Aaron got up so fast his ass hurt. And he began screaming for help.

Almost at once, his prayers were