Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (98 page)

“What about-” before I can complete the thought, Stanton is yanking my sister from my arms and engulfing her in a hug that promises he will never let her go.

“Alrighty, then,” I grumble underneath my breath as I make my way to my empty desk with my gavel in hand. People are still arriving, slowly streaming into the room, mingling with others before they take their seats. I tried for years before finally giving up. There is nothing that will stop their endless chatter and gloating- without fail, the meeting is always late. After all the new developments over the past few days, I allow them the conversation. Usually I sit at my desk and shout
shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down
, but I’ve mellowed somewhat. I’ll give them ten minutes before I go postal.

Torian is snubbing his bickering parents- they are next on my
get bitched at
list. Torian sits in the seat next to his grandmother, chatting energetically about something. The boys are pretty much interchangeable in all of the positions. It’s what my late grandfather wanted, may he burn in hell. Mitchell Meyers wanted an unplayable game, his spawn on every throne. If Torian is happy with his parents, he sits as the Spencer heir. If he’s mad at them, he takes his seat as the Meyers heir. Zane floats around between his seat at the side of the Meyers or the Simpson, when his rightful seat is next to Ez.

I catch Zane
longingly gazing on the empty seat next to Ez, wondering where to sit since Torian took his usual seat. Roarke and Aaron stare at my boy, looking lost and confused. Both of them knew Ezra at that age, and Zane is Ez’s spitting image. It’s ridiculous to deny their connection, but Ez says it with such conviction that you have to believe him. I don’t lie. I just keep my mouth shut.

My mind propels me to my feet before the thought registers. Ez’s hand affectionately
skimmed my son’s back as Zane walked by to sit next to my oldest sister- Ez, as in the whole Ez, as in that lying motherfucking faker, Ez. I’m not striding across my mother’s living room because I don’t want Ez touching our son. It’s because this incarnation of Ezra feigns ignorance of his existence.

“Admit it,” I all but shout at Ez
, towering over his sitting form. All conversation ceases- we are the sole focus of the game players. We all know Zane is Ez’s son. The nasty looks Cortez Abernathy throws my way is confirmation enough. It’s not my doing- the lying. Master Ez said that Ezra wasn’t to know, meaning the whole Ez would never know. Unless it’s Master Ez creeping in my home for nocturnal visitations, then this mofo is a bald-faced liar.

“Admit what?” Ez sincerely says, causing me to wonder if he is such an excellent liar that he can even lie to himself.

“Admit it, and I will tell you a secret,” I dangle out. Zane isn’t secretive because of Wil- it’s infused in his DNA, thanks to Ez and me.

“Admit what?” Ezra repeats. “What secret
?” he asks, leaning forward in his chair, intrigued. I can feel a collective breath being drawn around the room- the game players thirst for secrets just as badly as I do- we are a sick bunch because we share so many perversions.

“Admit it to yourself and I will tell you a secret about a hiking trail that loops around the Cowanesque Lake in rural Pennsylvania. You remember the place, Ez. It’s right there on the border of Upstate New York. It’s very quaint and picturesque, and equally terrifying.”

Gray eyes that are identical to my son’s widen in awe. I can literally see his mind whirling around the possibilities of what I could possibly know. Several long minutes tick by without so much a deep breath being drawn, and then Cort looms behind me. I know he won’t harm me, but he wants to. Hostility seeps from his pores. I just know he’s dreaming of punching me in the back right this second. Fair is fair. I want to kick him in the nuts, so we’re copasetic.

“Tell your locksmith you will no longer need his services,” Ez cryptically says, meaning my son is a sneaky shit. I called the locksmith this morning to change the locks
on our midnight creeper. Zane must have passed that bit of information to his gutless father.

“For that you get a first name. If you admit it out loud in this room,
I will give you the last name. It will never leave this room, so I say as the Game Master. It will stay within this game. Whoever passes on this information will not only receive my wrath, but punishment within the rules of the game.”

“Agreed,” Ez’s voice is deep and sharp and shrill and
final, and it makes me shiver. Cort’s scorching breath on the back of my neck is a silent warning at how furious he is.

“Ez, you must t
ake responsibility of your son. Acknowledge him as yours and I will give you the first and last name of your victim. You have a surprise once you find her,” I dangle out the truth.

Ez has been hounding everyone, eagerly seeking her out since that beautiful summer day that changed so many lives.
I’ve kept track of the woman for one obvious reason. Everyone in my household knows the truth, but I’ve kept it from Ez for their safety. The man isn’t all there, and to pretend otherwise is madness. I feel sick that I have to negotiate for Ezra to acknowledge Zane, but it’s how it’s done with someone who isn’t sane.

“Cort,” Ez warns, voice deadly
, eyes pinning his partner. “Don’t misbehave.”

“Like I’m fucking blind,” Cortez hisses in my ear. “I’m not blind. Zane looks just like you, you fucking idiot. We’ve fought about it for years. It’s what has put a wedge between us.”

“Not true, that isn’t it. I believe you and I being first cousins was the final nail in that coffin, Cort. I remember the night you called me disgusting for trying to kiss you. Yes, I lie, and not because I’m not proud to be my son’s father. I lie because it upsets me. I lie because it is one step closer to Mitchell’s vision. I lie because it hurts you to know the truth.”

“Would you like to know what hurts more, Ezra?” Cort bites out. I go to step out from between a seated Ez and a looming Cortez, but Cort grabs my shoulders
- immobilizing me. “If you’d told me the truth about our heritage, with time, I could’ve gotten over our blood ties. But you lied to me for ten years. If you had told me about Zane when it was going on, leaving the shit out about the game, I would have understood. But lying to my face every day for almost eleven years, standing in these meetings and looking at Zane, that is what killed our relationship- your betrayal and lies,” Cortez hisses. “Sometimes I hate your fucking guts. Just looking at you makes me want to kill something. Just looking at Faith makes me want to kill her. Fuck you and your behave bullshit, you lying bastard,” Cort says in passing, stalking back to his position behind the Meyers heir. For once, I am glad that Torian is in that seat and not Zane.

“And sometimes I fucking hate you, too!” Ezra screams
at the top of his lungs as he stands from his seat. “I hate that you turn away from our lifestyle and fuck anything with a cunt because you refuse to admit that you are gay. You want me to tell the truth all the time. I’ll stop lying when you admit the truth. Say,
I am gay
. Say it,” Ez hisses across the room at Cortez. “Say it, and we can finally move on.”

“But I’m not gay,” Cort defiantly says.

“Bullshit,” Ez and I hiss together, demonstrating that no matter what, we know Cortez better than anyone, including himself. The same can be said about Cortez and me knowing Ez- Cort and Ez are selfish compulsive liars. They excel at lying to themselves.

Snapping out of our very private, on public display, conversation, Ez and I look around the room. Everyone is in attendance, and enthralled.

Ezra sits back down, looking like a gentleman again- violence bleeding from his face. It’s been a long while, but I hardly ever see him war with himself anymore. No eyelashes fluttering as his halves fight for domination- Ez is integrated.

“Zane Thomas Holden, I acknowledge you as my natural born son. Please take the seat to the right of me, the seat for my heir. I do not do this for the information your mother has. She may withhold it if she wishes. I do this because you and I have discussed it at length over the past six months. Please join me,” Ez gestures to the chair next to him.

Zane’s gray eyes flick between me, Ez, Wil, me, Ez, Wil, they stay on Stanton for a moment. Zane is asking for our permission. As if silently communicating, Stanton, Wil, and I nod our heads as a unit. Zane rises to his tall height, self-consciously smoothing a hand through his hair. He confidently walks across the room, every eye on him. He walks as if this isn’t monumental for him- something that has made him doubt himself. Never spoken aloud, but we all could feel it, Zane suffered his father’s rejection in silence.

“Dad,” Zane says in
the same manner Ez speaks. Side-by-side, Zane and Ezra are breathtakingly similar. Father and son, they stare at each other, and I can see a new bond, a stronger bond, that had formed over the months Ez visited in the night. When Ez was visiting Zane while I supervised, they were always standoffish. Tonight, they sit with ease. They are bound tighter than Zane and I are.

“We good?” I ask Zane, and, as usual, he doesn’t answer my question. A deep sigh rushes up from my chest as I walk back to my desk. I allow five minutes for Cortez to stop crying and for everyone to settle down.

I pull my cell out and quickly type a name,
Katya Waters
, and I send the text to Ez. Ez looks at his phone in confusion, as if wondering why I am texting him. When he realizes what it is, he looks like someone electrocuted his ass.

“Cort,” Ez cries out in wonder, his eyes flicking to me, and then back to a furiously agonized Cortez. “We can find her.”

“Great,” Cort deadpans. I don’t think Cort wanted her found. The irritated smirk he flashes says he already knew her name- the jealous bastard. He says he’s not gay, that he doesn’t love Ezra, then how come he is jealous of everything and everyone in Ezra’s life that isn’t him?

“Thank you for all coming. We’ve had some major events happen over the past few days. I’d like to take a moment of silence in remembering our fallen. Whether they were bad or good souls doesn’t dictate that they earned respect within the game. Pierre Fontaine was a ruthless person and an ingenious player. We will be hard-pressed to find his equal. Jonathon Wilson
played with the strength of an enforcer but the mental fortitude of an elder. Anthony Marconi would have been an asset to the game once his probationary period ended. I am saddened to say that he was months from that date. Please respectfully bow your heads and give our fallen a moment of silence.”

Ten minutes later, I raise my head, and find dozens of eyes staring at me in surprise. I may be the Game Master, but I am not without mercy. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and begin our meeting.

“I feel the need to reintroduce our families, since we have lost an entire line from our game, as well as restructured a large portion of our remaining families. I will start in order, as per usual.”

The Meyers:
Elder: Gwendolyn Meyers.
Heir: Her grandsons are acting heirs, meaning this will change with time and circumstance. Enforcers: Leviticus Wilson and Cortez Abernathy.

The Spencer family:
Elder: Boyd Spencer.
Heir: Torian Spencer.
Enforcer: Gretchen Wilson-Spencer.

The Fontaine family:
Elder: Olivia Fontaine as our newest Elder.
Heir: The position of heir is yet to be determined.
Enforcers: Devlin Conrick and Sebastian Vance.

The Holden Family:
Elder: Ezra Zeitler.
Heir: Zane Holden.
Enforcers: Roarke Walden and Aaron Frost.

The Green Family:
Elder: Stanton Green.
Heir: Bianca Green.
Enforcers: not present, Caleb Green, and Julio Ramirez.

The Whittenhower family:
Elder: Grant Whittenhower.
Heir: Acting as a placeholder since events transpired that led to the exposure of the game, Adelaide Whittenhower.
Enforcer: Roman Alexander. 

The Simpson family:
Elder: Fate Simpson.
Heir: Situational, Faith Simpson and Zane Holden.
Enforcer: Kristal Harris and Amelia Simpson.

Game Master: Faith Simpson.

“I am saddened that the demise of Anthony Marconi ended the Marconi line within in the game. As with every meeting, I express my displeasure that our inductees do not know the existence of the game. As with the start of every meeting, I call a vote to expose the game to Marcus Zeitler and Regina Regal. While fun playing with the ignorant, a whole new level of play could be opened up with our inductees, especially since we’ve lost the Marconi family. One last word of warning, whether you vote yay or nay, time is not on your side. Four years and they will be told the truth regardless.”

A series of yays and nays commence. As usual, Ez is the deciding vote, always voting nay against his adopted father gaining knowledge.
And as usual, Cortez throws a shit-fit, which is the exact reason Ez votes nay- punishment. He is punishing Cortez and Marcus for being affectionate. If Cort is wickedly jealous, Ez is deadly jealous- they deserve each other.

“Dalton Fontaine Marconi, he is being held responsib
le for the death of one of our elders and an enforcer. In Dalton’s defense, I deem him unpunishable. With his grandfather’s death, Pierre, Dalton was elevated in the game as a possible heir to The Fontaine. As heir, it is in his right to punish Jon in any way he sees fit. Without knowledge of our rules or the game, Dalton acted within the rules of the game. I will allow open discussion if anyone opposes my decision. I will not allow a witch hunt on the boy.”