Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (45 page)

The Meyers:
Mitchell Meyers
. The Heir:
Gwendolyn Meyers
. The Enforcers
: ‘Wil’ Wilson and Raymond Hunter.
The Holden:
Pearl Hastings
. The Heir:
Ezra Zeitler
. The Enforcers:
Roarke Walden and Patrick Frost.
The Spencer:
Henry Spencer
. The Heir:
Boyd Spencer
. The Enforcers:
Sam Wheaton and Greta Wilson-Spencer
The Fontaine:
Pierre Fontaine
. The Heir:
Olivia Fontaine
. The Enforcers:
Jon Wilson and Devlin Conrick.
The Green:
Stanton Green
. The Heir:
not present
- Bianca Green
. The Enforcer:
not present
-
Caleb Green
.
The Whittenhower:
Grant Whittenhower
. The Heir:
not present
- Daniel Whittenhower II
. The Enforcer:
not present
- Roman Alexander
.
The Simpson:
Fate Simpson
. The Heir:
Faith Simpson
. The Enforcer:
Kristal Harris
.
The inductees:
Anthony Marconi
. Enforcer:
Victor Vance
.
Not present
-
Marcus Zeitler
.
Not present
-
Regina Regal
.

The game masters are all here, with the ex
ception of a few minor children, one enforcer that hasn’t been brought into the game, and the newest family lines that have to be voted on before notified- The Regal and The Zeitler.

We put aside game plays, treachery, and backstabbing and stand upon this hilltop, saying our final goodbyes to one of our own. The respect and grief is humbling and knee-weakening. Somehow, somewhere, I find the strength to stand proud and emotionless as I whisper my goodbye.

We walk down the hill single file, not one word uttered. I stand near the car that Grant drove us here in. Keeping up the appearance that Grant is hiding me somewhere, I rode with Grant, Fate, and Kris.

Fate and I stand shoulder-to-shoulder against the side of the car as every single person
respectfully offers their sympathies. I am pleased that Gwen isn’t playing the grieving widow routine. Grandfather and Gwen know better than to touch me. However, they hug Fate. Wil gives me a brief hug and doesn’t say a word. I hold him as tightly as humanly possible, but the hug is fleeting. He walks right by Fate without saying a word. I stare at Raymond Hunter, looking for pieces of Ezra and Cortez, and I find an abundance of them. The man stares at me with gunmetal gray eyes, as if he knows what I mean for the future of his bloodline- if they can find me and breed me.

The next group isn’t as stoic. Pea
rl hugs me like a mother should. I meet her enforcers. A boy, no older than me but built like a tank, flashes me a toothy grin and shakes my hand. He says his name is Roarke, and then he moves on to my sister, who he seems to find fascinating. The other enforcer I’ve met a few times, and he gives me a huge bear hug. Patrick Frost is Aaron’s father. It makes me worry for Aaron’s future.

Henry knows that if he wants to keep his hand, he won’t touch me. He doesn’t even spare me a glance as he walks by and engages with my sister. Boyd engulfs me, as if he is going to pick me up and run off. His hands shake against my back with emotions I don’t understand. He whispers how much he misses me and loves me. I don’t know why I find satisfaction in the fact that Boyd walks by Fate without a sideways glance.
Gretchen nearly attacks me, spewing words I don’t understand because her breath keeps hitching on sobs. My niece or nephew bumps against my stomach during our frenetic hug. The hard baby bump is our future. As sappy as it is, I touch Gretchen’s belly in awe and pray that I get to be in his or her life.

The Fontaines are the strangest and most beautiful family I’ve ever seen. I stare gape-mouthed and wide-eyed at the entire retinue in wonder. This is the family my baby sister is marrying into-
Holy shit!
Pierre is a scary, handsome man who hungrily looks at me like I’m his dinner. Olivia is by far the most beautiful woman on the planet. She makes my mom look like a butterface. Long, silky raven hair and huge green eyes, Olivia Fontaine is exquisite. Wil’s grandfather, Jon, scares the bejeebers out of me as he stares at me like he’s sizing me up for a coffin. A dark man animalistically prowls up and I take a step back but I’m already against the car. Devlin Conrick is close to seven feet tall. He towers over me by almost two feet, and he is as black as midnight. I’m scared until he genuinely smiles at me and my eyes flick to his- pale blue, nearly white. I try to reason out how he could be related to the Wilson family- all the men in their family have those eyes. But the Wilsons are pasty white and Devlin is the blackest man I’ve ever seen.

My eyes seek out Wil
in question. Our gazes meet for split second before he turns to shield his face. First it’s a mystery mother, now it’s a how does Devlin fit into Wil’s family tree mystery. And how about a first name, partner! Wil guiltily sulks off towards Mitchell’s car, but his grandfather intercepts him and a whisper fight ensues- off goes Devlin to mediate.
What the fuck?

Stanton gives me and Fate hugs, telling us to be strong. He doesn’t linger so that no one would guess he is my guardian. Grant is next. He gives me a hearty hug
that lasts for minutes. I feel better just touching him. I roll my eyes at the traitor when he gives Fate the same familial hug, which leaves Fate hysterically crying. Grant flashes me an apologetic grin when Kris takes Fate off his hands. They slip inside the car I’m leaning on.

A rough and tumble guy greets me and I recognize the name. Anthony is the other parent to my future brother-in-law. I look between Olivia and Anthony
, trying to create Dalton in my mind-
I’ve got nothing
. Stanton is back, chatting with his future in-law about some business dealing that makes my brain bleed.

I walk off to the side f
or the elusion of privacy and the one I
need
to talk to slowly follows behind. I can tell that Master Ez is doing his damnedest to hold Ez together. I can see the fight war across his handsome face. Gunmetal gray eyes flick everywhere, never lighting on any object.

“Hey,” I softly murmur, palming his whisker-stubbled cheek. “You okay?”

“If I were a good friend, I’d be asking you that, not freaking the fuck out that my father is standing over there,” Ezra bites out. He yanks me into his arms and holds on for dear life. Ez buries his face into the crook of my neck and shudders.

“I know the feeling,” I commiserate, running my hands up and down his back to comfort both of us.
“I just buried one parent, the other is lurking with yours, and the last is on the run… from my wrath. Tell me about your problems, I’m so fucking sick of my own.” I lean back so I can look at Ezra face without leaving his arms. Ez feels familiar- he and Cort and Marcus and Grant have been home for the past six or seven months. Without them I would’ve slit my wrists or everyone else’s.

“Before… before we came
up here, I had to meet him in private with a few of the others. I…I… it wasn’t pleasant,” Ez stumbles over his words, looking lost and like his age. For the first time ever, Ezra looks like a boy. His jaw twitches and his eyes flash. Master Ez is trying like a sonofabitch to keep Ez even. But it looks like a psychotic break is on the horizon. I hope he can stay even long enough to make the drive home- doubtful.

I do something that will benefit no one but Ez. My fingers snake around Ezra’s neck as I stand on my tippy-toes. I kiss sanity back into Ezra. That twelve-year-old isn’t much for female loving, but the Ezes- Master Ez and Ez- they like it just fine.
I need to shut out that freaky bastard from taking over.

Ezra collapses against
me in relief, I can barely hold him up. The energy he must expel just to stay together is exhausting. He slowly kisses me back like a lover. I’d fooled around with Ezra and Cortez for two months straight- every day, all day- like three, four, five times a day. Ezra and I know what the other likes. But this kiss isn’t a fire consuming your lusts; it’s a slow, lingering kiss of grief, friendship, and agony. There is nothing sexy about sobbing and kissing.

“Thank you,” Ez reverently whispers as he pulls away. He rests his forehead against mine as we regulate our breathing
and wait for the tears to dry. “I needed that. I’ve missed you, chickadee. Cortez misses you, too. But he will never admit it,” he says with a twist of his lips- an almost smile. “He’s such a jealous Fucktwit.

“Even?”
I whisper. 

“Seventy-five percent-
I won’t break,” he assures me. “Knowing that you’re here helps. I can’t go until I’m The Holden. You’re my only friend. I
need
to see you.”

“The Black Death,” I whisper in Ezra’s ear, digging my fingertips into his sides. “I’ll still be working there during school hours. Either leave me a note or drop by. I miss you, too. I just…” I trail off, hesitating.

“You just what?” Ezra says, tilting his head to the side, trying to get a read on me.

“I was dating Cortez because I was told to and be
cause I thought he was charming. But it’s like it shined a light on his negatives, and I managed to find you instead. I don’t mean romantically,” I stress. “The more Cort infuriated me with his childishness, the more I appreciated your seriousness. I’m glad the elders pushed us together,” I finally admit. “I think you need me, Ez.”

“Ha!” Ez barks
a laugh. “I’ll remind you that you said that when they find you before I’m The Holden. Then we will see how glad you really are,” he warns. “Then we will see how much you don’t need
me
.”

“You know what I mean,” I say, rolling my eyes and blushing like an idiot. “I’ll miss you,” I say again, this time with a sad smile of goodbye.

Ez takes a large gulp of air and breathes it out in his signature sigh. “I love you,” he quickly says, smacking a kiss to my lips. Before I can blink, he’s striding to the car Patrick Frost is driving. 

I do my version of a walk of shame. Every car is empty. When Ez and I walked off a distance, the cars were evacuated so they
could watch and listen. Every elder, heir, and enforcer heard and saw our entire interaction. I hate the greedy light that shines from most of their eyes. Even Pearl, who says she is on my side, is pleased. Raymond looks greedier than Mitchell, if that’s even possible. Stanton looks confused, Grant looks sick, and Wil’s back is turned towards me.

Without a word, I slip into the driver’s seat of Grant’s car and start the engine. I wait… and wait… and wait. No one moves. They all stare at me through the windshield. I can’t even process what that expression means- ever
y person has that indescribable expression on their face. The only people who don’t, is Ezra, hiding in their car, and Wil, who won’t meet my eyes.

I hold my hand over the horn- blasting an obnoxious, ear-splitting noise. Most jump,
but a few look amused. Young or old, they all act like teenage idiots or old biddies who gossip. After a minute straight of the horn from hell, they nod at me and return to their cars. Grant slides into the passenger seat with the Kris coddling Fate in the backseat. I glare at my sister from the rearview mirror. I wonder if that bitch misses my voice, yet. I haven’t spoken directly to her, even when I found Cortez inside her. I feel a well of pride knowing that I
won’t
speak to her ever again.

Finally, Wil looks at me. I tip my head in his direction
as a goodbye. I slowly pull out of our parking spot, but not before I see the sad twist on Wil’s lips.

“What was that about with Ezra?” Grant
tightly says, and miraculously, my sister’s crying dries up- fake fucking bitch!

“Sometimes the only thing you can hope for is to break
even,” I murmur, glaring at my sister through the mirror. I flick the radio on before anyone else can say a word, and then I turn it up so loud that I can barely think.

~Chapter Thirty-Five~

It’s been two weeks since I began my life at Stanton’s. That is if you can call a waiting game life. Bianca’s stayed at her grandparents’ home for the past two weeks so I could assimilate. I tried to tell Stanton that I couldn’t get into a routine, if half my routine wasn’t here. It’s like going through some new trial every few weeks. I understand where Stanton is coming from, but I’d rather just get it the hell over with. Plus, I really want to meet my sister. Stanton, being a shit, hid all of her pictures so it would be a surprise- the rat-bastard.

My
doldrum life goes as follows: wake up and the workaholic is already gone, go to work, come home… wait… cook and clean, eat with Stanton while trying to figure out what to talk about. I then go to the gym and work out when Stan disappears downstairs in one of his many offices. By nine p.m. Frankie the doorman and I are hanging out in the reception area playing cards. It’s either Frankie or commit crimes for some excitement.