Dalton (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (18 page)

BOOK: Dalton (Mistress & Master of Restraint)
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I relax my neck and rest the back of my head against the sofa. Someday I want someone that will stay with me; someone who
won’t
die on me, or judge me, or use me. I want someone to love me for me. I’m not even sure I want a child wit
h this woman. I know this time in
my life isn’t right or that I’
m in a position to raise a child. But I will always give those around me what they want. My father wanted a grandchild and my wife wants a way out. I simultaneously hope that she doesn’t conceive and that she does.

Knowing that my life hangs in the balance brings thoughts of my mortality to the surface. If I were to bring a child into this world I would be immortal. I feel even closer to Tony with the realization. In our line of business, death could be at any moment. He wanted to make sure the Marconi name lived on, not out of selfishness, but out of a primal need that every animal has- the need to breed. It’s ingrained into out being. Even in the DNA of a gay man.

I catch my mother’s eyes and tell her silently to leave. I need to
be with Bianca
and I don’t want my mother to watch me. She stands up and I watch her head toward
s
the hallway to en
ter Dexter’s classroom.

I slide my eyes to Devlin. It’s not the same as my mo
ther, but it’s still weird. He’
s my dad in the sense that he has cared for and mentored me my entire life. I don’t want him watching either. He looks torn and I’m not sure why. He follows the path my mom took and
he
joins her in the classroom.

I only hold Whitt’s attention and I know he isn’t going anywhere. In fact he move
s
to the
center of the sofa so that he’
s directly
across from me staring me dead-
on.

Bianca’s fingers fumble with my zipper. I’ve never allowed her to touch me in this manner. I always initiate and do all th
e work. She pulls me out and I’
m already erect for her.
“No,” I grab her wrist to stop her from touch
ing
me- stroking me.
“What’s wrong?”
Rejection is thick in her voice.
“I can’t do this.” I shake my head no back and forth- back and forth.
“It looks like you can,” she squeezes me in
her
hand and raises an eyebrow at me.
“No, you don’t understand. I will no
t do this anymore. Of course I’
m hard for you. It’s no different than when my cell phone rings that fucking Cabaret song and I get the sweats and freak out that I’m going to disappoint my mother. I’m only around you to work or have sex
,
nothing else. I can’t.”
“What are you saying?” Her hand flinches away and I know I’ve
just
offended her.
“I. Am. Gay. I can’t do this anymore. I will not perpetrate this cycle anymore. I don’t even know if I want kids. And if I do, I want them with someone I’m in love with. I love you- as my child. Someone who is dependent on me, someone I take care of.
Go home to your lover and get married, buy a house, have some kids, go to dance recitals or soccer
games. I can’t do that.”
She’s speechless. Bianca’s expression is betrayal and
it’s
like I slapped her across the face.
“Our marriage started off wrong. It wasn’t for the right reasons. I was born for the wrong reasons. I understand the point of view my father was coming from. Anthony Sr. and Pierre were old-world men where arranged marriages were how it was done.  No more. I won’t have a ch
ild and put it through this. I’
m not putting a target on my ch
ild’s back with the hit-men. I’
m living a lie for fuck’s sake. NO!”
I slide her off my lap and stand. I have reached a point of clarity in my life. I will take my father’s advice this one time.
“Tony’s last words to me were, ‘never doubt your ability to do the right thing.’ I’m taking his advice. This isn’t the life for me. I could be bitter and make you stay with me,
k
nock you up, and go about our lives. It would just keep the cycle turning. My hypothetical future children deserve better than that. Keep the businesses. I’ll give you a divorce. I just want a different life. I wouldn’t raise a child in the lifestyle without a perfect boundary. I sure as fuck wouldn’t bring one into the underworld. I’ll keep the charade of Dalton Thompson long enough to help the people of Restraint. They have shown me more kindness
than I’ve received in my entire life,
all the
while I’ve been a complete and total asshole. My mother doesn’t deserve my loyalty.
After this is over Font is back. I don’t care if I get gunned down in the street some night. It’s better than this fucking shit.” I point around the dungeon.
“I just had to send my mother to her room like a child and then my father because I was going to fuck you on this couch in front of the man I want as my lover. How fucking sick is that? I’ve allow
ed you all to do this to me. I’
m no longer e
veryone’s whore. I can’t eat or sleep. I’
m constantly nauseous. I’m not going to punish myself for everyone else’s mistakes any longer. Just leave- go to get Devlin and I don’t fucking care. I wish you luck. Have a happy life. I’ll talk to you when you no longer have that look of betrayal on your beautiful face.”
I turn my back on my wife and walk slowly out of the dungeon, down the hall, and up the hidden staircase feeling lighter than air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Sixteen

 

“I didn’t think you’d come,” I say to Whitt as he shuts and deadbolts my door.

I ran up here and immediately removed all traces of Thompson from my body and then I showered until my pale skin glowed pink. I didn’t want a trace of my old life on my skin when I touched Whitt. I wasn’t sure he would want me after everything I said to my wife.
“That was epic,” I can hear the smile in his v
oice. He approaches the bed.

I’
m sitting with
my back to the headboard with my hands crossed over my torso and my legs crossed at the ankle
s
. I look
relaxed and replete- inside I’
m a chaotic mess. I watch as he folds his leg under and sit
s on the corner of the bed. He’
s far enough that he isn’t in my space, but close enough
to connect.
“I should warn you.
A
few words into your speech, your voice changed to its French accent. A few people noticed. The look on their faces told me they already knew.”

“Who?”
I tense in worry.
“The Zeitlers.
I figured it out, I’m sure they did as well. I’d guess that’s why you never had your ass kicked earlier.
No doubt Marcus was protecting you.

He settles himself more o
n the bed when he sees that he’
s welcome. He was hesitant when he first came in the door.
“I’m sure Marc knew who you were the moment you came to Restraint. You look just like your mom even with the disguise. That’s how I figured it out, by the way. We were creating the article on your mom
,
and your sister sent us that picture
. That was a shock, seeing a female version of Marcus smile back at us and an older female version of you. You intrigued the shit out of me after that.”


Yeah, Marcus knew as soon as I came here. He refused to train me in my disguise. Alex knew, too.
You’ve known that long?” I ask in surprise. I guess I’m not as good at this secret identity stuff as I thought. I sit up on the bed and fold my legs underneath me. Whitt and I are sitting cross-legged facing each other.
“I noticed you earlier. You always had a pained expression on your face. You look
ed
like you wanted to throw up when you were with women. And you’d avoid them. I started to notice a pattern. You act like the biggest asshole right after you had sex with someone. I could tell you didn’t enjoy it and I couldn’t figure out why you would do that to yourself.”
“Great, so I’m that obvious.” I close my eyes in frustration.
I feel like such a fool. I would walk around as Font if it wasn’t for the fact that I need to figure out who wants me killed.

“I think it was obvious just for me.
I felt something diffe
rent around you. Call it gaydar,

he says seriously.
I laugh and it sounds a bit hysterical
even to me
.

“There’s no such thing as gaydar,” I tease him. 
“Oh, really?”
He smirks at me. “So there isn’t
another gay in our midst that’
s freaking out right now. I had him pegged since I was a kid.
Strutting his ass around likes he’s a stud.

“Oh, yeah, he is.
Well, probably bi. I wouldn’t say gay.
” I join his laughter.
“You found out a lot about me during my rant. Are you okay about it? I’d understand if you don’t want to be friends. I have a lot of baggage, but I did just throw some of it away.” 

“I have a lot of baggage myself. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but it’s true. I won’t lie.
Some of what you said
bothers me. I’m more worried about you and how it affects you, not how it affects me. I don’t know much about you. What the hell is with a contract on your life? Are you really an FBI agent?”

I smirk and inside I cringe. If I want him in my life I have to be honest.
But I want to enjoy his company for a short while longer before he leaves me.
“Tell me about you first. I have a lot to say and none of it is good.”
I reach forward and squeeze his thigh
. A
desperate urge to touch him overcomes me. I give in for a second
,
enjoying the feel of his solid muscle underneath my fingers. The warmth is as soothing as the innocent smile he gives me.
“I still live at
home with my parents and my nephew.
It’s a big
,
dusty
,
old house filled with history
that
I’m not a part of. I’m the youngest.” He smiles at me and I can see where the nic
kname pretty boy came from. He’
s devastating when he smiles and
the dimple appears.
“When you’re a Whittenhower you don’
t have a choice in your life. You have to go to school where
you’re
told, date who
you’re
told,
and work
where
you’re
told- be who you

r
e
told. I don’t
fit in and neither does Niel and
it
has
drawn us closer
together
. He’
s more of a brother than a nephew. We were raised together. My parents are old enough to be my grandparents and they know nothin
g of anything unless
it fits into their mold.
I took over as his father when Grant died,

Whitt’s voice breaks and he wipes a tear away.
“I miss him every day. He couldn’t handle the life of a Whittenhower. I’ll make him proud though. I have plans set into motion to get my family back. I understand your need to be with Bianca because your family thought it was best. I’m trying to undo the damage my family created as well.”

The anguish is obvious in his expression and the tone of his voice. This is what Queen meant by us helping each other. It feels good to be needed instead of uses.

“I
have to ask this because you’ve confused the shit out of me.
Are
you gay?” My voice goes into an upward inflection at the end.

“Yeah,” he says bashfully and his tan skin takes on a healthy glow. “Not that a Whittenhower is allowed
to be anything other than perfect
. The whole family knows, but I’ve never said it out loud or anything.
Almost every dirty secret our family has
Adelaide
le
aked in her book, except this one.
She was pissed
that Dad committed her. She needed to go to prison for her actions, but that would have embarrassed our good name.
A mental
ly
ill daugh
ter was better than a criminal.
She showed us. What she did was worse than if we
’d
let the bitch rot in prison.
I do agree with Dad on this one thin
g; she is mentally unstable. I’
m so sorry for what she’s done.”

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