Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (125 page)

“I don’t know what you’re taking about,” I innocently say, giving Whitt my harmless little girl expression. I rest my palm on my swelling baby bump-
I’m just an innocent pregnant lady
, I project. 

“I just work here,” Wil sarcastically says, causing Niel to huff a laugh.

Whitt glares at his brother, but says to me, “How long have you been married,” Whitt ask, sounding betrayed. If only my baby brother knew the half of it. He’d probably never speak to me again.

“Three years,” I easily answer. “But we’ve been together since I was fifteen.”

“What?” Whitt hisses out in shock. “Why wait so long for a child? Not that you’re old…” he backtracks when I glare at his rude ass. “That’s seventeen years.”

“Who says this is my only kid,” I hiss while Wil says, “that’s my fault,” he grumbles in shame. “I guess you could say I finally hit the mark.” He cockily smiles. “Some of us are better shots than others,” he directs at Niel, who looks like he wants to cower underneath his desk.

“Which is it, you didn’t work or you already have a kid?” Regina pipes in, sounding impatient and betrayed.

A few in the group are completely ignorant to everything. Others know everything, and the ignorant are going to kill them when they find out. One knows a bit about my personal life, but not much. It’s an interesting dynamic to watch, especially with all the guilt wafting around the room.

“I work just fine,” I say with a smile. “I already have a son. He turns fifteen tomorrow. I’ll be sure to bring him by to visit real soon,” I sweetly threaten. My smile turns a little bit evil.

“I always feel like I’m solving a puzzle when I talk to you,” Whitt says
in an exhausted tone. “I miss you. I miss the girl I knew. Why can’t you just be real for a minute, and just be Faith.”

“
I want that, too,” I choke out the words. A lump forms in the back of my throat and my eyes prick with tears. Wil reaches over and clasps my hand. He rubs soothing circles in the back of my hand with his thumb. “If I could talk to you, I would. Don’t you get that,” I whine.

“Why don’t you?” Whitt says, leaning forward on his desk.

“I wish I could,” my voice breaks with suppressed tears. “You have no idea how badly I wish I could.”

“Just let it go,” Niel says, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Trust me, she will tell you what she can, when she can.”

“You know what’s going on!” Marcus bellows at Niel. “I’ve been following your ass around for the past month. You and your new buddy Torian have been busy boys. I’m not as stupid as you all think. I saw you all go into a house. All of you!” Marcus points at the majority of us.

“What?” Daniel barks. “What is going on?”

“I didn’t want to believe it. It’s made me feel insane,” Marc spits. “In this room alone… You,” he points at Niel. “You,” he points at Adelaide. “YOU,” he screams in Grant’s face. “Why?” he whines, sounding like a lost little boy. “Why are you hurting us?”

“If we say anything,” I furiously whisper to Wil, “we’re in breach. If you say something, make sure it’s within the rules,” I warn.

“I understand,” he murmurs back.

Niel, Grant, and Adelaide are deathly silent, and it’s because Wil and I are in the room. I’m sure they want to spill their guts, but the executioner is in their presence.

“Marcus,” I quietly say, because he looks like he could unhinge if I were to say the wrong word. “Think about it all. Think back to my son. Think,” I sharply hiss.

“No,” Marcus moans in denial. “No,” he cries out, covering his face with his palms.

“What’s going on?” Regina’s voice quivers as she tries to comfort a despondent Marcus. “What the fuck is going on?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Whitt yells at her. “Help him,” he motions to Marc.

“I’m trying,” she whines. “He hasn’t been himself since we moved here. Who is playing with us? Why are they playing with us?” 

“Everyone needs to calm down,” Wil says in a soothing voice.

Ade, Grant, and Niel are slowly backing towards the doors. There is a storm building inside Marcus, and he’s about to blow. The air is thick with agony and fury.

“Father, Diane, please come over here,” Adelaide says to her father and lover. “Marcus figured out what’s going on. You better get away from him.”

“What’s going on? Who is doing this to us?”  Diane demands as she walks over to her girlfriend.

“I can’t tell you. But even if I could, I’d never tell you,” Ade states. “You guys better hurry,” she says in a panic as Marcus gets to his feet. The doors creak open as Ade pulls on the latch, and all hell breaks loose.

“No matter what I do, it’s never good enough,” Marcus bellows. Whatever is within arm’s reach, he grabs and launches across the room. Chairs fly through the air, hitting objects in their path, and exploding like shrapnel of a bomb. I dive for cover behind the large desk as everyone seeks their own slice of cover.

“Goddamn him!”
Marc screams while assaulting the fireplace with another chair. “What did I do in a past life to deserve this one?” A series of screams fill the air. Words that sound like gibberish, but must be some foreign language, spill from Marc’s lips. He sounds like he’s praying.

I crawl beneath the desk, pulling Niel and Whitt under there with me
, when Marcus picks up Daniel’s entire collection of Steuben Glass paperweights, and starts lobbing them as live grenades. Glass explodes all over the room as they make contact.

“Don’t let them in, Grant,” Wil shouts above the noise of smashing wood and glass and Marc’s blood-curdling screams.

“I don’t want to live here anymore,” Niel whimpers. “Take me home with you, Whitt. I can’t take listening to people breakdown in this room. I still can hear mom screaming when she was told dad had died, and now she has to witness Marcus do the same thing. I can’t handle it.”

“Niel,” I sharply say to get his attention. “You’re stronger than this. You have to be here to protect the girls. You can move out when they do. You know damned well that Regina won’t leave you behind.”

“We have to do something,” Whitt’s words get lost when a loud crash echoes around the room.

I crawl to the front of the desk and peek ou
t the small gap where the veneer doesn’t meet the floor. Marcus is demolishing a leather side chair. Breaking it with his bare hands and feeding it to the fire. Regina is pressed up against the wall with Wil standing protectively in front of her. Grant is standing in front of the double doors, blocking the people who are trying to enter. Ade, Daniel, and Diane had made it to the safety of the foyer.

“My own son,” Marcus howls
, and begins his breakdown anew. He picks up the edge of the leather sofa Ez and I used to consummate our relationship, and chucks it across the room. He is in a blind rage, and it lends him strength he wouldn’t have had otherwise. Marc picks up a fireplace poker and my heart fails to beat. I know just how much damage one of those can do. I still have my daddy’s fireplace poker in my closet. It was my first weapon.

“MARCUS,” a ghastly howl fills the room, rendering us all speechless and immobile. Grant runs up to a stunned Marc and yanks the poker out of his hand. Grant remembers all too well what I was capable of doing with that weap
on. In Marc’s hands, he could’ve killed someone.

“Stop,” Grant painfully forces out. “Stop.” He whips the poker across the room, where it lands in the fireplace.

“Oh my God!” Regina makes a gut-wrenching sound that has tears falling down my cheeks. Whitt and Niel begin sobbing next to me. The brothers curl around each other for comfort.

Marc falls to his knees, looking broken.
“You can fucking talk? Does anyone tell the truth anymore? You’re running some game, using us as pawns, and the entire time I was trying to protect you. I don’t think I can ever understand this,” Marcus breathes the words.

“Sorry
,” Grant whispers. He runs out of strength- not only to speak, but to stand. He slumps to the floor, drawing his friend into his lap.

“I’m sorry,
too” I weakly say as I crawl out from beneath the desk. “I can’t tell you anything right now. But if you could just be patient for another twenty hours, I’ll tell you everything. Please,” I beg, kneeling beside them. I don’t dare touch Marcus because I fear that sudden movements and harsh words will cause him to explode again.

“Here’s what we do,” Wil begins. “Regina tells everyone Marc had a breakdown. Which isn’t a lie. I’m su
re they heard Marc’s fit all the way down on Crestview Drive. Whitt goes home. Grant and Niel go to bed- preferably together, because Grant isn’t feeling very stable, and it is Christmas, after all. You have to do what you’d normally do so you don’t attract notice.”

“What about Marcus?” Regina asks as she stares at her fiancé. Marc is
nearly catatonic, blindly staring off into space. He said what he wanted to say, and then shut down.

“You say you’re going to a hotel or something- you have to get away. But you’re coming home with us. Neither of you are getting out of our sight for the next day,” Wil warns.

“But it’s Christmas,” Regina whimpers.

“Does that man look like he gives a shit?” Wil hisses. “He’s al
so not Christian. You can exchange gifts on the twenty-sixth, and he won’t be the wiser.”

“Why us? Why you?” Regina rapidly asks.

“Why you, you ask, because we need you both to be safe and well for everyone’s sakes. Why Faith and I, because we can keep you safe and healthy. Marcus needs looked after by a medical professional. He’s going into shock. He needs nourishment and liquids and sleep. He needs comforted. We will take care of him. You know Faith would never harm you.”

“Will it hurt or help, Marcus seeing Zane?” I ask.

“Well, we’re about to find out,” Wil drawls.

~Chapter One-Hundred-Twelve~

Ezra is beyond off kilter this evening. I’ve never seen him so demented before. I’m sure the news of his father’s breakdown is making him feel guilty somewhere in the depths of his mind. I
shouldn’t have worried about Ez remembering the date, because he looks like he’s living in some far off land where he isn’t hurting all those that he loves. Ez has reached the space where he lies to himself so thoroughly that he forgets all the evil deeds he’s committed. I can see the lies forming as I watch him.

“Find your center,”
I softly demand, reminding Ez to keep even. “It’s not here, Ez,” I say as my eyes flick over to his wife.

Katya is fucking Dexter again. This time, she’s right out in the open, having sex with Dexter in the main dungeon with all of those in attendance watching.
They aren’t even doing a scene. Dexter is sitting on a bench with Katya riding his dick. The fact that Katya wanted to be at Restraint on Christmas night instead of with her three children is telling. Dexter is here because he doesn’t have kids. Restraint was open and we needed volunteers to watch over the place. I’m here because Ez is. I’ve been tailing him all day.

“I have nowhere else to go,” he
softly murmurs, sounding lost and forgotten. “You promise Cort doesn’t know,” he hopefully pleads.

I want to say,
know what? Pick a secret, Ez. You have so many to choose from.
But what I actually say is, “Trust me.” My voice is soft and sad. Even though I am so furious with Ezra that I could spit bullets, I love him too much to see him in pain. I’d do anything to make him happy, even lie. “I know him better than I know you.”

“True,” Ez replies
. “And why would you lie?” I relax in relief, hoping to mitigate another disaster. Last night was hard enough. I can’t do it two nights in a row. Ezra keeps on talking while I only halfway listen. Katya coming on Dexter’s dick is distracting me, but ironically, the sounds of pleasure don’t even register with Ez.

“Well, except to ensure that I don’t go postal. You’d lie to save me from myself. I can feel it, Faith. He knows. How could he not?”
Ez’s sharp voice sounds like broken glass.

Ez looks so lost and alone. It’s like he’s back years earlier, living in the past. What year is he in? What secret is he scared Cort will find out? I used to wonder if the
fractured identities were a ploy, a way of getting out of the consequences of his actions. Like,
oh
,
Master Ez made me do it, or Ezra made me rape Regina, or Ez doesn’t know of Zane’s existence.
Now I wonder if it’s more than that. When the stress is too much, does he get sucked into his memories? I know he knows he’s at Restraint right now, talking to me. But do the feelings and thoughts of another time assault his mind?

“Do us all a favor and just
tell him the truth,” I plead. I don’t know what the fuck Ez is talking about, and I wonder if he does. Which secret? Should I just pick one at random? “You’d… you’d be better if you told him.”