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  Spencer is stunned the day an older boy named Dmitri takes him firmly by the hand and intertwines their lives. Spencer hangs on Dmitri’s every word and order for years until the vicious lies of an outside party cause Dmitri to throw Spencer violently from his life. Heartbroken, Spencer is pushed almost to the breaking point until a mysterious stranger offers him the chance of a lifetime. With nothing left to lose, Spencer accepts.

  Years later, the two are reunited and Spencer is forced to make a difficult choice. Should he continue on with the life he has fashioned and turn Dmitri away once and for all? Or should he take one final chance on the only man who has ever made his heart race?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Reign Over Me

  Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Brochu

  ISBN: 978-1-77111-214-7

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  Reign Over Me

  By

  Rebecca Brochu

  For you as always

  Chapter One

  The first time Spencer sees Dmitri his life is changed almost beyond his comprehension. He’s nine years old and sitting out on the front stoop of his mother’s ratty apartment. He’s clutching the latest in a long string of bloody noses and busted lips when he sees the other boy walking in the distance. At first Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be anything special, figures he’ll be just like everyone else that has ever passed him by, but the closer he gets the more he sticks out. Even at his age, Spencer can tell the other boy’s clothes are good quality, the type of expensive that Spencer is practical enough to know he’ll never have. He likes to eat and have heat during the winter and often enough he can’t have both. It goes without saying that adding in a budget for clothes that don’t come from the corner Five-and-Dime or the people who hand out stuff at the local shelter is out of the question.

  It doesn’t really matter though, because Spencer is smart for his age and tough so having some stranger pass him by without a second glance won’t hurt, it never has before. It does though, much more than it should have, the ache building up in his chest before the older boy is even level with his position on the stoop. Spencer glances up for a second, his eyes taking in messy spikes of black hair, the exact opposite of his own dirty blond and tangled mess, and bright blue eyes that put his muddied green to shame. He’s older than Spencer is, not by more than a handful of years, his face is still rounded with the sweet kiss of youth, but his frame hints at the sheer size he’ll achieve when he’s older.

  He tucks his head back down quickly before the other boy can notice his interest. He knows that people don’t like it when he stares or sometimes they like it too much and either way he doesn’t want the trouble it will bring. Instead he just swipes at his nose and lip again, not really caring about the blood he’s smearing on his clothes since it’s not the first time this has happened and it won’t be the last either.

  “Are you alright?” The voice comes out of nowhere and when Spencer jerks his head up warily his gaze locks with bright sky blue eyes and it feels as if his whole world has crashed to a halt.

  “I said are you alright?” The other boy’s tone is concerned now, something that Spencer can identify but doesn’t really understand because he’s never really had anyone be concerned for him before.

  “I-I’m fine.” His voice is feeble and shaky when he replies. He’s unsure about what the other boy wants since no one has ever simply stopped to check on him before, not without wanting more than he’s willing to give in return.

  “You don’t sound fine, and you’re bleeding. Do you need some help?” The older boy is crouched in front of him in the blink of an eye, hand outstretched and Spencer can’t stop his instinctive flinch. He isn’t used to touches that don’t end in pain. He shakes his head no quickly in response. There’s a frown on the older boy’s face and Spencer has to remind himself that he’s tough and can take anything even as the sight of it makes him want to whimper an apology.

  Suddenly there’s a hand gripping his wrist tight and he’s being tugged upwards and into the older boy’s arms and all he can do is gasp and squirm. A firm grip on his shoulder stops him short and once more he’s gazing upwards into the other boy’s face.

  “What’s your name?” The blue-eyed stranger asks with a kind of authority that stirs something deep within Spencer that he doesn’t understand.

  “S-Spencer.” He doesn’t even entertain the thought of not answering. It’s as if that possibility doesn’t exist where he’s at in that moment.

  “Hmm, I don’t like that.” Spencer can feel himself visibly wilt at the proclamation. He’s nearly preening at the other boy’s next words though.

  “How about I call you Spence? Would you like that? Would you like to be my Spence?”

  It’s all Spencer—no, Spence now—can do to contain the strange joy he can feel bubbling up inside of him as he nods his agreement. He’s never been claimed before, never been given a nickname or been told that someone would like him to belong to them before. His mother seldom calls him by his name. Normally he can only tell by the tone of the curses she’s hurling around whether or not she’s talking to him. And never once has she ever willingly claimed him in such a way.

  “Y-Yes. Yes I would.” His voice is low and serious, more serious than he should be capable of at his age but it doesn’t make it any less true.

  “Good, then. My name is Dmitri, Spence, and you’re coming with me.” The newly introduced Dmitri doesn’t even wait for Spence’s reply before he’s tugging him down the street and away from the cold stoop he’d spent too many nights on already.

  Spence for his part goes along without complaint, fascination warring with confused awe at the fact that this stranger has not only stopped but has apparently decided to claim him as well. It never crosses his mind to be leery, to question their destination or the other boy’s intentions despite the fact that he should know better. It’s instinctive, the urge to follow this boy, so he pushes aside the part of him that recites all of the rules of survival that he learned a long time ago in his neighborhood.

  In that moment he is not able to understand just how much Dmitri will change his life, how so much of his future will revolve around this blue-eyed boy taking him by the hand.

  Chapter Two

  Spence is seventeen and the only bright spot in his life is Dmitri. In truth he’s the only person Spence has in his life since his mother ran off and he’s been forced to work himself to the bone to make ends meet. Dmitri doesn’t understand how that is, doesn’t understand the struggle. The older boy is in college now, his grades and his parent’s money assuring him a place in nice apartment off campus. It is outside that same apartment that Spence is now hovering awkwardly. Dmitri called him a few hours earlier and ordered him in that s
ame brusque manner he always has to come to his place immediately.

  Spence wanted to obey like he always does, wanted to drop everything he was doing and rush to do Dmitri’s bidding, but he’s had to force himself not to. Dmitri might be well off, his every need catered to by his parents, but Spence desperately needs his job at the corner store. It’s all that stands between him and being forced to beg for the older boy’s charity to keep clothes on his back and food in his stomach.

  There was a time, a few short years when they were younger, when he relied on Dmitri’s kindness to survive. He accepted the clothes the older boy shoved on him despite the way they’d itched and made him uncomfortable because he knew what he could buy with the money spent on one of those shirts. He also ignored the cold and disapproving way Dmitri’s parents eyed him when the other boy dragged him into his posh home and settled him in the kitchen to be fed. Hell, Dmitri even walked him to school most mornings and always seemed pleased when Spence met him outside the gates to his own school in the afternoons.

  It made him happy for a while, brought something to life inside of Spence that had long been cold and dead.

  Looking back he knows that things began to change between them when the whispers started. The students at Spence’s elite private school began to talk about the raggedy boy who waited at the gate and the teachers began to quietly harass him. He’d resisted their attempts to get rid of him, had stubbornly hung onto his and Dmitri’s routine with everything in him because it was all that he had. He’d held out, had managed to ignore the whispers and the taunts from every direction because the sight of Dmitri smiling at him was worth the pain. He’d been blind to the way Dmitri had looked at him, with possessiveness and amusement that shouldn’t have been so natural on so young a face.

  When Dmitri is sixteen and Spence is just thirteen, the easy understanding they’ve always had between them begins to change. The clothes and the food stop coming, but Spence doesn’t see a problem with that because he’s old enough to pick up a few errands for some neighbors and the corner store to earn some extra money. Dmitri stops walking Spence to school but still expects the younger boy to be waiting on him in the afternoons no matter the season or the circumstances. He is quick to show his displeasure with Spence if he isn’t where he’s supposed to be with long drawn out silences or harsh cutting remarks. It hurts but the way he smiles and ruffles Spence’s shaggy blond hair, or tucks him snugly into his side whenever the younger boy does something right, is well worth it.

  Spence takes things in stride, is actually happy even though their friendship is so unbalanced, because he can effortlessly lose himself in Dmitri despite the changes. There is an almost hardness about his friend that has never been there before, a pinched look around his eyes that is out of place on his handsome face. The older boy has rules and guidelines now, things he wants done in certain ways and things he expects Spence to know. He tells Spence one afternoon that Spence belongs to him, that he’ll never belong to anyone else as long as Dmitri lives, and Spence melts with joy.

  Spence finds that he craves the structure and the ownership, the orders and the delicate system of checks and balances that Dmitri sets for him. He bends to the blue-eyed youth’s every whim, begins to anticipate his desires and provide for them accordingly. Even at such a young age something within him recognizes Dmitri as his ruler, knows that the older boy owns him and rejoices in the fact. In his desperate desire to be acknowledged, to belong to someone, he revels in the control that Dmitri has begun to take over his life. The ever tightening fist of ownership the older boy displays makes something within him sing in sick joy.

  It gets worse the older they get and by the time he’s old enough to realize their relationship is unusual Spence is helpless in the face of the other boy’s personality, which has only grown more intense with age.

  So he’s standing outside Dmitri’s home at all of seventeen, his hands shaking and his heart pounding like it wants out of his chest because he’s several hours late. He wipes his sweaty palms on the sides of his threadbare jeans and with a deep breath raises a hand to knock on the door.

  “Come in.” The words are a low growl that reaches through the thick wood of the door, wraps itself around the base of Spence’s spine and tugs. He has the door open and shut behind him and is inside the apartment before he even realizes he’s moved in the first place. He stops at the end of the hallway to toe off his shoes and takes the opportunity to peek into the living room without anyone being the wiser.

  Dmitri is waiting on him, long muscled limbs sprawled across the leather chair he favors with a sort of alert nonchalance that sets him immediately on edge. Spence knows he’s in trouble, knows that Dmitri hates to be kept waiting. What’s worse is the fact that he isn’t alone—the leather sofa that dominates the room is filled with the sprawled forms of Antony and Blake. They’re two of Dmitri’s oldest friends, their parents swimming in the same cold blooded, old-money circles as his.

  Spence despises them, hates the way they look at him and down on him and the nasty comments they make about his and Dmitri’s relationship. They’re quick to snip and sneer at him even when Dmitri is around and they’re even less inclined to be friendly when he isn’t. He’d been unfortunate enough to get corned by them once a few weeks before at one of Dmitri’s parties and it had taken all he’d had to get away from them unscathed. He’d been woozy and sick but he’d managed to stumble his way home and he’d woken up the next morning with a massive headache but thankfully alone.

  His only comfort is the fact that Dmitri usually never lets them get too out of hand when he’s around. He always stops them with a sharp look or a growled word if they go too far, but tonight Spence can see the coiled tension in Dmitri’s shoulders even from a distance. He knows that he’s pissed Dmitri off by being late so he straightens his spine and takes a deep breath to prepare himself for the worst as he walks further into the room.

  “Well I’ll be damned if bitch boy hasn’t finally shown up!” It’s Blake’s sneering voice that greets him first when the brunette spots him standing hesitantly in the doorway.

  He sneers back at the older male for a second before his eyes cut back across the room and clash with Dmitri’s sharp sky colored gaze.

  “You’re late.” Dmitri gets to the point, as quickly as always, his voice a low growl that suits his tall muscular frame and wild black hair. He’s so different from Spence who’s short and slender with wiry muscles from too many missed meals, too much hard work, and not enough care. His hand is large and yet elegant when he carelessly waves the younger male further into the room

  Spence is quick to cross the floor between them to sit on the thick pillow beside Dmitri’s chair. He doesn’t remember when it first showed up or when it’d officially became his seat in the apartment, but it’s close to Dmitri and comfortable so he has no complaints.

  “I’m sorry.” He keeps his voice low and his tone soft, an effort to keep their conversation as private as possible.

  “I called you three and a half hours ago, Spence.” Dmitri’s voice is sharp and he makes no effort to keep it low. He’s always been of the opinion that it doesn’t matter if other people hear them talk, no matter the situation.

  “I know. I wanted to come when you called, but I had to finish my shift at Mrs. Choie’s store, otherwise I would’ve gotten fired. You know how much I need this job.” He knows that there’s a hint of almost pleading in his voice. He doesn’t want to fight, especially not in front of those two.

  “Spence, shut up.”

  Spence flinches back before he can stop himself. Dmitri isn’t normally so sharp with him and when he is Spence always feels as if he’s been struck in the stomach, like all of the air has rushed from his body.

  “I see why you keep him around, Dmitri—he makes such a good dog. Now that you’ve finally managed to teach him how to lie down and roll over I bet he doesn’t get on your nerves half as much.” Antony’s voice is as slimy smooth as his slicked back bl
ond hair and there’s a sense of almost glee behind his words.

  Spence wants to show him just how much of a dog he can be but he pushes the urge down and does his best to smooth out the snarl that once again tries to twist his face. The submission he shows to Dmitri doesn’t mean he’s willing to let others run roughshod over him all of the time. He’d have never survived in his neighborhood if that was the case.

  Spence looks back at Dmitri, an apology in his eyes and his shoulders slumped slightly in instinctive submission. He doesn’t want to anger Dmitri any more than he already has by being insulting to his friends on top of being late. Still, there is a part of him that is almost angry at Dmitri’s attitude. He knows somewhere deep inside that being late isn’t this big of a crime, that he must have done something else to deserve this coldness.

  Dmitri is staring at him again, cold blue eyes sharp and hard with a sort of simmering rage that sets Spence immediately on guard. The younger man knows immediately that something is horribly wrong and his suspicions are confirmed when Dmitri begins to speak.

  “I’ve stuck by you through the years despite everything everyone has ever said about you. I went against my parents, my friends, hell even my teachers to be around you. They all told me that you were using me, that people of your caliber know no other way, but I ignored them.” His voice is steady, his tone as icy cold as his gaze.

  Dmitri pauses for a moment to reach for something on the small table beside him. Spence can only stare in confusion at the manila envelope in the older male’s hand as he drops it onto the floor in front of his pillow. It pops open and Spence can only watch as glossy photos spill out onto the wood floor in front of him. His hands are shaking when he reaches down and picks the stack up and he can feel his face pale when he finally gets a good look at them.