Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (17 page)

“What’s going on out there?” Ezra calls. “I’m coming out.” The sound of the zipper throws me into a panic. Boyd just shrugs and calmly retakes his seat. I look at Wil with horror-filled eyes, but he’s already vanished into thin air. Boyd chuckles as Ezra and Cort spill out of the tent like clowns from a tiny car. In a hurry to be nosy, they only unzipped a quarter of it.

“Dumbasses,” Boyd sneers. “Like I’d hurt my own sister.”

“You might,” I mutter under my breath and receive a glare.

“What the hell are you two talking about? It’s like a one-sided conversation that doesn’t make any sense, no matter what you input for the
other half.” Ezra glares at Boyd, and from behind his shoulder, Cort looks like he’s ready to hurt something.

“You not telling her is bad, but Fate, that bitch better not have known. I know how Faith feels. My father doesn’t even know I exist. I’m sure Julian is married with kids. I know I have another family somewhere. I can’t imagine the ones closest to you lying to your face every day.”

I wince as Boyd lifts an eyebrow at me and smirks. “I can’t imagine,” he snidely says. “I bet it’s worse to know and have them not know. To watch them grow as you go to school with them every day. To be at a birthday party with three of the four of your siblings and only one of them calls you brother. Yeah, I bet that sucks,” he sarcastically spits. “If you call Fate a bitch again, I’ll cut your tongue out,” he coldly and calmly says, meaning it.

“I’m sorry,” Cort says, sidestepping to stand behind Ezra.

“Thank you,” Boyd murmurs, a twisted smirk on his lips. He’s amused that Cort would seek protection from Ezra. It is rather odd. Ezra stares at Boyd, never blinking. It’s like two wild animals having a faceoff. I’m pretty sure my brother is feral, is Ezra?

“You can understand why I find it insulting to have my mother called a whore and my sister a bitch
- to my face,” Boyd stresses. “Faith can call them anything she wishes. Outsiders… they can shut the fuck up,” Boyd barks.

“I’m sorry,” Cort says again. “Fate is…”

“An entitled bitch,” I finish for him, and I don’t get slapped, so Boyd meant what he said. “How long has she known?” I close my eyes and pray the answer is since this morning or some other fairytale kind of bullshit.

“I was angry when she moved to Whittenhower Estates, leaving you alone with a woman that isn’t your family. Our mother came to her and told her the truth,” Boyd pauses, takes a deep breath,
and tries to figure how to say this without saying too much. “Fate knows everything there is to know, and she still wouldn’t go home. She said she needed to stay with Regina and wanted to be with Whitt.”

“Whitt has an entire family to take care of him,” Ezra hisses. “Faith is all alone. Cut my tongue out if you wish, but Fate is a spineless-”

“Deadweight,” I flatly say. “She’s known for almost ten weeks.” I shake my head in disgust. “Fate is deadweight- completely and utterly useless. A leech. The perfect, obedient daughter,” I spit, upper-lip curling away from my teeth in disgust. “Our mother must have told Fate she could stay. It’s either that, or Regina has one hell of a pull on her.”

I expect Boyd t
o be pissed at me for verbally annihilating our sister, but he smiles at me, all proud like. “I won’t argue. And no, I didn’t stick around because you were mean to Fate. I just wanted to be here in case you wanted to vent to someone who can take it, someone who understands… everything,” he stresses.

“I need a rain check,” I tell the boys. “I’m sorry. I… I can’t talk to my dad anymore. They have him sequestered because the trial starts in a few weeks. My mom won’t allow me to see her. My sister will ignore me the second I bring up anything uncomfortable. That leaves one person who will tell me the truth because it will hurt me. I need to talk to Lara- tonight.”

“Okay,” Cort softly says in disappointment. “Will I see you tomorrow?” I nod my head yes. “Call me tonight if you have to. We’ll sleep inside just in case you call.”

“I’m just going to talk to Lara,” I mutter.

“She won’t be alone. I’ll be in the house,” Boyd says, and Cort relaxes.

“No,” I growl, staring all three of them down. “It’s my house, the woman who half-assed raised me, and a girl who has
beaten grown women. If I need help, I’ll call. Don’t bitch, Boyd. I can feel you gearing up for a fit. You live three houses down from me. I can yell that far.”

“Rain check,” I say to the Ezes. “Wrap me up a piece of my cake. I want to camp out tomorrow night, eat my cake, and get my gift. I didn’
t forget,” I flash him a Cheshire cat smile. “Sorry about the drama.” I roll my eyes and grimace.

“C’mere,” Cort slyly says as he pulls me into a hug. He tosses Boyd a challenging look, causing me to seize up. That look can’t be good. “Birthday girls need a sweet sixteen kiss.”

“Ah,” gasps out of me as Cort attacks my lips. It’s a rude, possessive, and the most sexual kiss he’s ever given me. All I can do is hold on to his forearms as he attacks my mouth with his lips and tongue. I can’t even enjoy it because I’m so embarrassed.

“Dude, don’t be like that. It’s so wrong,” Ezra chastises, pulling Cort off me. “Apologize.”

“I won’t,” Cort growls, “kiss Faith goodnight.”

Ezra brushes a kiss to my cheek, blushing
so furiously that I can feel heat radiating off his skin. It’s the first time his lips have touched me on purpose. One accidental biting is the only contact we’ve had.

“I’ll come over tomorrow
afternoon,” I say in parting as I walk away with Boyd at my side.

“Jealousy… nice,
” my brother creepily praises. Boyd’s smirk glows in the dark of the woods. “You’ll have no issues with Cort. Mom will be pleased. If you bag Ezra, she’ll immortalize you.”

“Don’t,” I hiss. “They’re my friends. Talking like that makes me feel… dirty! What does having sex with them matter anyway?”

“It’s not the sex, Faith,” Boyd speaks so softly that I can barely hear him. “It’s the result. Those boys are the last of two family lines- Holden and Hunter. You having Cort’s kid would be fantastic. Ezra’s child- would be epic.”

“No,” I cry out. “NO!”

“Yes,” Boyd sharply demands. “Don’t give me that tone. I can spin it any way I please, but the result is still the same. Yeah, I’m whoring my sister,” Boyd sounds sick. “Wait until you hear about the matches they have planned for the little ones and our unborn children. Fate- I hate that bitch, too. She got lucky. Your dad’s arrest saved her from the life we have to live. She gets to sit pretty while the rest of us fuck and hurt people. They are anxious for grandchildren. What do you think that means? It means you and those boys and me and my best friend’s little sister are The Meyers’ personal baby factory. So yeah, say no all you want, but you’re still going to do it!”

“I won’t,” I growl, nearly tripping over a tree root. “Nothing and no one will make me.” I’m righted by a hand out of nowhere. Wil materializes by my side,
with his hand at the small of my back.

“You keep telling yourself that, but you will.
Get your hand off her back,” Boyd rapidly hisses, somehow sensing that Wil is touching me. “Touch her out of comfort and I’ll cut your fingers off.” Wil’s warm hand disappears in an instant.

“He was just helping me because I almost tripped,” I defend. “Who is supposed to comfort me, anyway?
Who is supposed to support me when I almost fall?” Wil is silent at my side, as if he spends a lot of time being a shadow.

“I am,” Boyd declares. “You are to come to me for everything. It’s what a big brother is born to do. Fate is the head of the Simpson
s, worthless as she may be. I’ll be the head of the Spencers very soon. You, you have to behave, stay safe, and keep out of the crosshairs. You have to come to me when you need anything. If you can’t find me, then, and only then, do you go to Wil.”

“Why, what’s so important about me?”
I reach out for Boyd’s arm to stabilize myself. Right now, I do need supported. I need reassurance and hug.

“Think,” Boyd hisses
, and then he softens his tone. His hand wraps around my waist and pulls me into his side. “Gwen only had one kid per family. She didn’t have two with your dad because he was a hot lay. Our Grandfather chose Tom because he was crafty and cunning. If The Meyers wanted young and pretty, he would have made Gwen bang Grant a few more times. The Meyers needed the Heir as strong as possible. Fate was for the Simpson line, you… Faith, you’re to take the place of The Meyers when they retire or die. Anything is possible in this game.”

~Chapter Thirteen~

I tried to walk home, but Boyd tossed me into an SUV and drove off with Wil following us in his car. Then it took
me fifteen minutes to convince Boyd and Wil not to follow me into my house. It’s not like I haven’t lived here sixteen years unaccompanied by either of them.

I was confused when Boyd got into the passenger side of Wil’
s car, until he rolled the window down and muttered, “The SUV’s your birthday present from Mom. I’ll teach you how to drive it,” he said with a grin, and then they drove away.

The sound
of sex hits my ears as I walk past the family room. Lara is sprawled across the sofa, her boney legs waving in the air. All I can see is Lara’s calves and feet raised above an older man’s saggy ass. Every thrust moves those stick-thin legs, and it’s accompanied by a pig-like grunt. Nothing about this is sexy. I’d accidently seen Aunt Amelia a few times. I’d caught a flash of what she and her boyfriends were doing, but it wasn’t gross. It just made me curious. Watching Ez flirt with Cort is something to see… this… it makes me want to gag.

A balding man in his seventies is rutting on my momma. I want to pour acid in my eyes and bleach in my ears. I’ll never get the vision of Lara’s surgically augmented body being mounted by a pudgy man whose
saggy balls stick to his inner-thigh. Boyd commanding me to have sex had turned me off to the act. This sight here, I’d rather be celibate.

“Get off my momma and get the hell out of my house,” I shout at the pervert. That gold-digging bitch is trying to catch herself another man. He has to be almost thirty years older than her and ready for the grave.

“Who are you?” The old man stares at me with a smarmy grin on his face. “You want to join us, little girl?”

“You want to go to jail, you ancient pervert?” I snidely say in return. “Get off of her and leave.” I point to the front of the house.

“You have no right to talk to me like that,” he says all offended-like. He actually turns, trying to give me a better view of his gray pubes and the base of his pruny dick. Like the view is enticing. I snarl at him, my upper-lip curling off my teeth, because I can’t unsee that disgusting sight.

“The hell I don’t. You’re screwing my daddy’s wife on the sofa I sit on while I do my homework. You’re in my house. Leave before I call the police.
And put some clothes on,” I growl while tossing his trousers at him. “I have two boyfriends. Hell, I could go pick some guy off the street that would do me better than your saggy ass. Git!”

“I thought you’d be with your friends,” Lara quietly says, irritation in her voice, as she wiggles out from beneath the two-hundred-fifty pound man. He ain’t tall, either. I close my eyes and think
isn’t tall
.

“You thought wrong, now didn’t ya?” I walk around collecting discarded clothing, swearing obscenities underneath my breath.

“You allow your daughter to talk to you like that?” Old man says to Lara as I pelt him in the face with his undershorts.

“She allowed you to proposition me and didn’t say nothing
, didn’t she? Did you really believe she’d yell at me for kicking you out when it’s my right?” This time he catches his shirt before I take out his face with it.

“
Your dialect is showing, daughter,” Lara patronizingly says as she pulls her blouse over her fake tits. Her nipples are funny looking.

“It’s been a bad night. Excuse me for not filtering my thoughts. Just be happy I’m not slapping sense into your gold-digging behind. Mister, you ought to thank me for stopping you. Trust me when I say this, no lady under seventy wants you for anything other than your money. And those were fake moans if I’ve ever heard ‘em.”

“You’re a bratty little bitch,” he sneers while yanking on his trousers. His willy ain’t deflating, must be some kind of medicine keeping it up because he looks wicked pissed.

“Why thank ya, sir. I do try,” I sweetly say, batting my eyelashes.
I quickly shift gears and shout, “Get the fuck out!” Lara starts towards the hallway and I stop her with, “Not you. You and me, we’re having a talk, right now.”

Lara drops down onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll call you, Lara,” the older man stiffly says, dipping his head for a goodbye kiss. 

Turning her face to the side, Lara huffs out, “Don’t bother. This isn’t going to work between you and me, George.”

I thought the man was p
issed before… his face turns beet-red as he snatches up his stuff and charges out the front of the house.

“Thanks, Faith,” Lara says without a lick of sarcasm
as the front door crashes shut. “I couldn’t figure out how to get rid of him.”