Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (16 page)

~Chapter Twelve~

“Why a tent?” I ask to push my dreadful thoughts away.

I wish I could rewind three months. I want to be sitting on Aunt Amelia’s porch, sipping sweet tea and watching the lightening bugs fire up the night. I can almost hear my aunt humming along to Patsy Cline while she bakes in the kitchen. I pretend Jim is rolling up the driveway in his rusty pickup truck. As he gets out, he tosses his hat onto the bench seat and flashes me a wide grin. Seconds later a beer is dropped into my lap, and then Jim goes into the trailer and kisses on my aunt’s neck as I guzzle my prize. Aunt Amelia’s heady giggles are like pure sunshine.

Instead, Aunt Amelia is in lockup after being extradited to New York State. She and my daddy are sequestered for trial. The only ones allowed to talk to them are lawyers. I’m sure Jim has found another good woman to smooch on. And it’s almost November everywhere. No more lightening bugs signaling their mating call. It’s spitting snow back in West Virginia. I’d be splitting
wood, not sipping tea.

Three months ago, I lived a simple life. Sure I’d act like a brat and get swatted, but I knew what was coming and did it anyway. Now I don’t understand anything. I don’t know th
e consequences for my actions, because nothing makes any sense.

I’m sitting in a tent on my sixteenth birthday with two guys I’ve known on-and-off my entire life. I feel like I’ve live
d two separate lives with separate personalities for the lifestyles. It’s difficult to come to terms with only having one life. Now I miss what I had, and there is no getting it back.

I tug on the frayed threads of my sweatshirt and nibble on my quivering bottom lip. I quickly dry my eyes and quietly sniffle.

My party fizzled after I pretended to eat a slice of cake and opened my presents. Divina and Aaron gave me a bottle of
Tylenol
as a joke. The note said it was for all the headaches Cort and Ezra will give me. Regina gave me a mobile phone. I’ve seen a few here and there, but I didn’t think they were widespread. Regina smiled and told me she made it special for me. My sister didn’t get me anything, her presence was my present. My new baby brother drew me an incredible picture that looked like the cover of a comic book. Inside the card, that my big brother left by the cake, was a pair of car keys. I guess if I’m going to whore for Boyd, I might as well get a ride out of it.

“We’
ve always had a tent back here,” Ezra answers my question, drawing me from my poisonous thoughts. “We’ve upgraded over the years, but this spot has been covered since we were four. It’s my favorite place,” Ezra dreamily murmurs, lovingly gazing at Cortez.

“It’s peaceful,” Cort adds.
“It was our rendezvous point for when we played
The Hunter
,” Cort laughs.

“The Hunter?”  Something about that piques my interests.

“It was a game Ez came up with. He was obsessed. We’d start in the center of the lawn. I guess you could say it was a demented version of hide-and-seek.  We stalked each other through the woods. Ezra was relentless,” Cort murmurs in awe. “My God, I wanted to kill you that summer.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Ezra says with a smile, and winks. “Some of my favorite
memories were from the summer we turned thirteen.

“I do
n’t want to know, do I?” I meep-out. Ezra has that special glint in his eye, the one that screams he’s remembering something naughty and he liked it- a lot.

“You might,” Ez taunts, “it is my hottest memory.”

“Yeah, because it was ninety-seven degrees in the shade, dumbass,” Cort shouts in outrage, mock-punching Ez in the shoulder. “It was just a kiss,” Cortez mumbles, throwing in an eye roll for good measure.

“Bad memory,
old man? It didn’t stop at just a kiss. Why don’t we tell Faith why the tent sits right here? We wanted to memorialize the spot we first-”

“No!” Cort yelps, turns bright red, and launches himself across the six-person tent. “No… no… no… no…” he repeats, clasping a hand over Ez’s mouth.

Ezra’s laughter spills from between Cort’s fingers. “I kissed him, and then he… ouch,” Ez hisses when his nipple is nearly torn off. “Uncle. I cry uncle. I promise I’ll behave.” He stops struggling and puts his hands in the air like a convict staring down the barrel of an officer’s weapon.

“You better, or I’ll never do that again,” Cort warns
as he lets go.

“You mean
yank my nipple from my chest?” Ez groans, rubbing the sting away. “I think I’m fine with that. You know I don’t like pain with my pleasure.”

“No, I’ll never have sex with you again!” Cort growls at Ezra.

“Damn!” I yell, hysterically clapping, while Ezra shouts a victory song.

“
I got you to admit it. Burn,” Ez drawls out, pointing at Cort.

“Shut up,” Cort pouts, face bright red. He bows his head and stares at the floor of the tent. “I was the one that fucked you, don’t ever forget that. You might have made the first mo
ve, but I made the last. I will always make the last move,” he mumbles, shamefaced.

“I’m not ashamed,” Ezra says with a shrug. “I’m sure Faith has figured out who’s doing what to whom. You
can go ahead and make that last move. I’ll even beg for it,” he admits, and doesn’t even blush. Ez ducks his head until he’s looking into Cort’s eyes, their faces separated by less than an inch. “I’ll wait a lifetime for you… as you well know.”

Ezra’s honestly is so gut-wrenching that I have to choke on the sob that’s threatening to erupt. I look away from their very private moment, not wanting to intrude. I doubt anyone will ever feel that way about me, or me about anyone. Cort and Ez already have almost seventeen years of history to compete with. I love them as my best friends. I have no delusions that I am their one and only, because they’ve already found each other.

“Don’t get mushy,” Cort grumbles. His hand flashes out and pushes Ezra away. An instant later, Cort pulls his boyfriend to his mouth and gives him a sweet kiss. “I love you, Ez,” he huskily whispers across a stunned Ezra’s lips. Not once has Cort made the first move in front of me or said anything romantic. The way Ezra’s back is strung tight, I doubt Cort has ever told him that.

Ezra’s fingers tighten on his thighs, like he’s fighting the nee
d to devour Cort but knows he’ll be rejected. “I love you, too,” he breathlessly whispers and sits back on his heels. I’ve never seen him that ghostly white.

“I’m sure we’re making the birthday girl uncomfortable,” Ezra says as he pulls away. “We wanted to give you your gift in private… and you didn’t eat your cake, either.”
As he speaks, he won’t look up at me. A flush is creeping up the back of his pale neck.

I start giggling because I’m so uncomfortable, and because they are the sweetest freakin’ thing I’ve ever seen. I feel blessed to see them this… bash
ful. Even Cort’s ears are tinged red. I guess neither expected the other to feel nostalgic.

Boyd, Wil, and if my suspicions are correct, my heinous mother, have their heads up their asses if they think anyone can compete with these guys’ affections.

“Before I give this to you, why were you so upset? What did Boyd say to you? He never actually left. I saw him lurking as we crawled in the tent.” Ezra dangles a black velvet bag from his fingertips, but he looks worried.

“Boyd’s my brother,” I spit out before I can stop myself. “I always knew there had to be more of my siblings around. I just felt it
in here,” I fist between my breasts. “I didn’t want to admit it to myself. But Lara always called my mom
Gwen the Whore
. I was told that Fate and I were only half-sisters. That is utter bullshit. We… we look identical. Fuck,” I hiss, “The only difference between Boyd and me is that he’s a guy and has light-brown hair.”

Cort looks shocked by my admission, but Ezra… Ezra just closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Whitt is your little brother,” he admits what I
already knew. Right then, I know I will always trust him. Ez opens his eyes and pins me with his gunmetal stare. “His mother’s name is Gwen. When we started hanging out, I saw the resemblance. You and Whitt, man, it’s wild. He looks more like you than Fate does. I know Whitt looks like his dad, but the differences are
you
,” he stresses. “That family has more secrets then mine ever could. You can’t tell anyone about Whitt. He will find out when he’s supposed to. Just let him live a lie so he can be a kid.”

“Um… seriously?” Cort mutters in mystification. “How the hell did I miss this, and what the fuck, Ez?” He punches Ezra in t
he back. “Nice, on keeping me out of the loop!”

“Calm down,” Ez tries to pacify Cort.
“I figured it out on my own. I always knew Boyd and Whitt were brothers. Boyd stalking Faith was a huge tipoff, don’t you think? I asked him this morning and he admitted it. The kid’s a weirdo, no offence, Faith.”

“None taken. You don’t know the half of it,” I mutter under my breath. “I officially win at being the most fucked up member of our little club. It seems we can add some more
members to our ranks. Did Boyd even have a fake mom or did Gwen actually stick around?”

“You’ll have to ask Boyd
that, because Henry Spencer never got married and never had a girlfriend or anything. He’s as old as dirt. He’s in his late eighties. Dang…” Cort draws out. “Poor Gwen, having to bang an old man when she was our age. I’d do forty-fifty tops. Henry had to be in his sixties when she did him.”

“Cort, shut the fuck up,” Ezra growls. “You do know you’re making fun of Faith’s mom, right? Show some dang respect!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Cort blushes. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just wondered what was going through her head,” he mumbles.

“I need a minute
.” I put my hand out to stop them from saying anything. My mom- she- she had to do what I’m doing. It’s what Boyd meant: I should be lucky that it’s Ezra and Cort that I was ordered to date. It could always be worse. What she’s doing is wrong, and I need to know why she’s doing it. But no way in hell would a girl want to be with someone older than her grandfather.

“How old is my mom? Do either or you know?”
I whisper to my hands, afraid to look at them and see pity on their faces.

“Boyd said she was fourteen when she had her first kid. I guess that would be Fate. That would make her thirty-three or thirty-four, right?”

“My mom was only fourteen?” I cry out. I quickly wipe my tears away and swallow hard. “By the time she was eighteen she’d had three kids.” I draw in a deep breath. “My daddy was with a young girl. He’s in his fifties. So he was almost thirty-five and screwing a child. I think I’m going to be sick.” I scurry out of the tent and run over to the picnic table to grab a bottle of water.

My knees weaken when I see him sitting there, both of them. “Don’t come out of the tent,” I call
over my shoulder to the Ezes. “I need to talk to Boyd alone.” I run back to the tent and zip the door shut. My survival instincts scream that they shouldn’t see Wil.

“He better be out there, Goddammit!” Cort hisses.
“Don’t go searching the woods for the freak.”

“I am,” Boyd calls
, never lifting his head from his hands. “I’ll send her back in in a minute.”

“You have three minutes,” Ezra orders.

Watery blue eyes pin me in place. And I called Fate blind. Those are my eyes staring back at me- I bet Gwen has those light blue eyes. “What’s-” I tip my chin towards Wil. I know the boys are listening, so I have to choose my words wisely.

“I was upset. I knew you’d be upset. I needed-” Boyd’s eyes cut towards Wil, who is quietly picking up soda cans
, staring at them like they offend his sensibilities- yup, OCD. “I’m glad you have your friends to talk to.”

I nod yes. Boyd needed his best friend. I feel Wil staring at me and blush. I don’t dare look back at him. I don’t want to piss Boyd off. “Are you alright? What upset you?” It’s not what I want to ask. For some twisted reason, I want to ask Wil if he knew who he was smacking around. The thought dissolves before I voice it. Boyd was rough with me in a way that no one would see. I can feel the bruises on my shoulder burn in his presence. I have a feeling those boys think in an old school sort of way. Women are property. You can love them, and it gives you the right to punish them. Next one that touches me with violence will get it back three-fold.

“We had a difficult conversation. I wanted to make sure you didn’t run off alone or say things you didn’t mean,” Boyd says as he rises from his seat.

“You mean, you spoke to our sister and she said I refused to acknowledge her existence.” I stalk towards him, sputtering curses. “How long did she fucking know, Boyd? How long did my sister lie to my face?”

“When…” Boyd growls and bares his teeth in frustration. He gestures to Wil, eyes animated, mouth grimacing, fingers gesturing wildly. “Fucked up,” he shakes his head at a loss for words and totally sucking at charades.

Wil, silently laughing at us, points at me and then slices his hand across his throat. “Oh,” I mouth.