Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (27 page)

For some snarky cheer, I allow my old self to reemerge. My new outlook says that I’m being ironic, whatever that means. I pull on a bright red t-shirt over my turtleneck. It says
no
…
no
…
no
… with a picture of Scrooge.

I grab Boyd’s Christmas present on my way out. It’s a piece of lump coal wrapped in newspaper. How’s that for irony?

~Chapter Twenty~

I walk down the sidewalk towards Boyd’s, and
I feel
him
. I know he is there. The second I think it, his car materializes in Boyd’s driveway. I almost turn around and go back to my empty house, but I’m no coward. My hand shakes as I ring the doorbell, though.

“Cute,” Boyd says with an amused snort as he tugs on my t-shirt.

“I thought you said we were going to be alone,” I mumble through my clenched teeth.

“I never said that,” he flashes me an evil grin that looks exactly like my own.

“Pretty sure you did,” I snarl as I walk into the Spencer house.

“Nope, I just said that none of our relatives would be here. To which your reply was, ‘what about your dad?’ To which I replied with, ‘out of town with the rest of our tormentors.’ And then you agreed to visit.” Boyd cheerily says as he takes my coat and shakes his head that I don’t have to unlace my boots and go in my socked feet.

“Fair enough,” I allow. “Here,” I press the lump of coal into his chest. “Merry Christmas.”

“And you’re so festive
, too,” Boyd teases, “look at you- wearing something that is a color. The color of blood, mind you. But at least it’s not black.”

“And you’re such a bucket full of sunshine too, sweetling,” I tease, battin
g my eyelashes. “I’m your clone. But I do pissed off teenager better than you do. You’re just jealous.”

“It’s debatable. Wil’s better at it than you are,” Boyd maliciously says as he points to Wil ghosting in the doorway to the kitchen. I close my eyes and sigh. As I slowly raise my lids, I catch sight of my brother’s satisfied grin, proving that sadism runs in the family.

“You do love me, right?” I sarcastically grumble as I walk by.

“With all my heart,” Boyd affectionately says. “But I do like seeing you squirm.”

“Right back at you,” is my reply before I clamp my lips shut tighter than a straight man’s ass in a prison shower.

I wave at Wil as a greeting. I
’d promised to go easy on his ears. Wil stares at me like he’s never met me before, but he has to memorize every inch of me for a test he’s taking later.

“Fate!” A girly scream hits my ears a nanosecond before I’m engulfed in a huge hug. Sleeping beauty squeezes me tight
ly, all the while wishing me an enthusiastic Merry Christmas. I freeze, arms out to the sides, just hovering in mid-air. Do I hug her back?

B
oth guys say in exactly the same dead-like voice, “It’s Faith, her name is Faith.” I don’t blame Gretchen for not knowing, I did pretend to be Fate all those months ago when I met her.

“It’s nice to see you again,
Gretchen,” I woodenly say as I pat her on the back and glare at my brother. I mouth
I hate you
at Boyd.

I’ve never seen anyone so de
lighted in my torment before. Boyd’s positively glowing with cheer. “Ah,” Boyd croons, “it’s a beautiful thing when sister-in-laws embrace.”

I snarl at Boyd as I slip from
Gretchen’s suffocating hold. “Getting married already, big brother. Isn’t Gretchen a little young for you still?”

Boyd’s answering smirk scares me to death. “It’s fifteen in the state of New York, sister. Greta turned fifteen last month. All we needed was her guardian’s signature,” he slyly sings.

“Wil’s not even legal yet,” I bark out. “Who the hell is their guardian?”

“My
grandfather, Jon,” Wil distastefully hisses the name. His face is slightly tinted green, like he wants to vomit. “He lives in Las Vegas, as he watches over the Fontaines,” he pointedly says- meaning Wil’s grandfather is watching the little kid who is my future brother-in-law. Now I want to throw up.

“When’s the lucky day?” I pretend to be thrilled for the happy couple.

“Just this morning,” Boyd sings, eyes lusting after his bride. He raises their joined hands and kisses the huge rock that’s weighing down Gretchen’s ring finger. I roughly swallow when I see the platinum band on Boyd’s ring finger. He really is ecstatic, as is she.

It hurts me. It hurts me deep. Mom’s special
little bastard gets to be married- legal. But I’m just trash who should fuck and birth bastards. My future nieces and nephews won’t be bastards, but my babies will be.

“Congratulations,” I whisper, and I even mean it. But my mind keeps rolling over that the fact that my own mom thinks I’m worthless scum.

Boyd is oblivious, because he’s a horny teenage boy and the object of his desires is purring all over him. Looking at them, I can almost see a hormone explosion in the air. I swear to God, my mom is going to be a thrilled bitch come next month. With the way Boyd and Gretchen are eye-humping and rutting on each other, Gretchen will be knocked up before I can blink.

Wil and I share a look. Somehow the dickhead knows my private thoughts. And isn’t that just lovely.

“Are we having food?” I ask the newlyweds, and they don’t hear me. “You invited me over for dinner, remember?” I meant for my tone to be sarcastic, but I just end up sounding exhausted. “Fine, I’ll cook.” I sigh as I walk towards the kitchen. I grumble underneath my breath on how I knew our houses were identical inside. Even the kitchen is set up the same.

I poke around the
refrigerator and see a ham. I’ll make my new sister a nice wedding meal for Jesus’ birthday. I try to think nice, friendly thoughts, but every one of them sounds snide in my mind.

“I guess this officially makes us family,” I tease Wil, pretending my voice didn’t
just crack from nervousness. I close my eyes and smile. “Watch this.” I walk over to the cupboard by the double ovens. “Roasting pan,” I sing as I flick the cabinet door open, and sure as shit, there are the pans.

“How’d you do that?” Wil laughs.

“Psychic,” I tease. “All these Richie-Rich bastards think the same way. No imagination. I bet I could go from room to room, and they are the same as my house. The architect and builders were the same, and then they hired staff from the same agency. The appliances are exactly like mine. If I didn’t know I was at Boyd’s house, I’d think I was at my own. God, I hate this shit hole- Pimp fucking Crestview Drive. I have to get out of the Gates with their Stepford family robots. I’m moving above
The Black Death
as soon as the tenant leaves. They already gave two months’ notice.”

“Faith,” Wil’s cuts me off, making me realize I was babbling out of nervousness- so much for my promise to shut up. “We
should talk about what happened. It’s not what you think.”

“Forget about it,” I
tightly say. “Never happened, remember?” I flash him a phony smirk and concentrate on cooking.

“I need to explain,” he stresses, grabbing the pan from my hands and forcing me to look into his creepy white eyes. The breath catching in Wil’s throat proves how big of a fucking sadist I am. The sound makes my dumbass slut of a teenager roar to life.
I blink and step away, effectively smothering the naïve bitch that’s clamoring for Wil’s attentions.

“I won’t like what you have to tell me, I can feel it. So let’s pretend it didn’t happen, and you don’t
worry about what I think. No one else gives a shit about my opinions, why should you?”

“I just don’t want you to think it was… that is
was about you.” Wil’s eyes no longer hold mine. He turns and puts the ham into the oven and sets the thermostat to four-hundred and twenty-five degrees.

“It’s about Gwen. It’s that I look, sound, act, smell, feel, and breath
e just like her.” Wil says nothing, but he doesn’t need to. He looks physically ill. “I don’t need to know the why of it. But I can’t allow someone to be with me when all they see is my mother. No one else thinks this, but I know I deserve better than that.”

“You’re not her, Faith,” is said in a way that I can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that I’m not Gwen the Whore.
“What happened had nothing to do with you or Gwen.” His voice breaks, and I just know he’s lying.

“You said that it wasn’t my fault, but it is. It’s because I’m too much like my mother. I’m doing my best to be myself without compromising myself. It’s all I can do.” I spread my hands wide and look Wil in the eyes. I wait until he can’t look at me anymore before I step a
way and forage for side dish fixings.

“Just don’t let it affect how you are with other people,” Wil softly says
, back on target-
operation bag a Holden
.

“Pfftt...” I snort. “Fuck you, Wil.” I grab a knife from the block and decimate an onion.
Wil doesn’t have the nads to punish me for disrespect while I hold a weapon- wimp. “Maybe you should be worried about what our siblings are up to.” I point overhead with the knife tip. “It’s gross that they are de-virginizing each other while we visit.”

“It’s only fitting after what we did,” he quietly murmurs, looking unbelievably ashamed that he ever touched me.

“Jesus Christ, Wil,” I hiss. “We didn’t murder people and bury them in the woods. But something tells me that would have been easier for us to do together. As far as it being easy to touch other people- screw off, that’s none of your dang business.”

“It sort of is, Faith,” Wil tries to keep the growl from his voice, but fails.

“Just shut up and cook. I’m ignoring you now. I’m too much Gwen for your ass, buddy.”

Wil’s snort is the last thing I hear for a long while as we work together side-by-side in total silence. I want to joke that Boyd must suck in the sack, because my two sexcapades weren’t quiet- not by a long shot.
But I think it’s too soon to joke about. Plus, I don’t want to feed Wil’s massive ego.

“You are different than the last time we…” Wil trails off.

“You think,” I snidely say as I slide off the stool to go check the ham. It’s been an hour and a half. Boyd might be quiet but he’s hella virile. 

“You’re the first one to take disobedience to a whole other level. You’ve created a stir in the game. The other players love it. They are championing you for their cause. If a sixteen-year old girl is like this… what will you be like at twenty or thirty… your grandfather is worried.”

“Good,” I chuckle. “I told that creep that if he came to my house I’d kill him. He knows I mean it. Only thing stopping me is that it would put Gwen in a stronger position- bitch,” I snidely hiss, pulling a grimace.

“I like the piercings,” Wil says to change the subject off of my mother. I don’t want my mind to go where it’s headed. I shut that sucker down before I take a knife and cut something. “They’re… they’re…”

“Me,” I add for Wil since he’s lost all rational thought.

“How many do you have?”
he softly asks.

“Five,” I quickly answer.

“I only see four,” Wil mumbles in confusion, eyes tracking over my face, mentally tallying my adornments.

“I don’t think you can handle it, Wil,” I
seductively purr, and his eyelashes flutter shut, hiding that white-blue gaze.

Motherfucker!

I am just like her- just like Gwen.

I take perverse pleasure in Wil’s torment. It’s better than sex. I can’t even stop myself- that dumbass teenager turns into a sadistic, seductive, grown woman that’s hell-bent on punishing Wil for rejecting us. I watch from afar, as if my name is Ezra and I have multiple people dwelling in my mind.

I take Wil’s callused hand in my own, never breaking our gaze. I stare deeply into his blue-white spooked eyes from beneath the fringe of my lashes. Both of us cease to breathe. Slowly… ever so slowly… I move his finger towards my mouth, so Wil has time to decide to pull away if he wants to… but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. It’s as if I’ve captured him with my gaze.

I
draw his long slender finger between my parted lips and deep into my mouth. I suck his flesh into the cavernous depths of my wet mouth. When I roll the barbell that pierces my tongue along that rough, delicious fingertip, Wil’s knees give out. The hand that isn’t in my mouth latches onto the countertop for balance, fingertips biting into the granite. Wil makes the most incredible sound. I almost cum from hearing the garbled noise that rumbles up his throat… and it sounds like he just did.

I need someone to save me from myself because I’m horny again… and I do bad, nasty things when I’m horny. I stare at Wil like I
’m going to eat him alive and Wil stares back at me like he’s petrified- I don’t know if he wants me to attack him or leave him alone… and neither does he.