Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (32 page)

“Wil,” I breathe, tears stinging my eyes.

“Motherfucker,” Grant hisses. “You were with him,” he confirms, voice filled with despair. “We’d hoped it was a lie. Don’t allow Wil to mess with your head. Wil is, and will always be, The Meyers’ enforcer. He is not your friend. He is not your partner. He is not your lover. He will do one thing, and one thing only: obey Mitchell Meyers until the end of time. Do. Not. Trust. Wil. Ever. Wil is the driving force behind the game. All the things that happen to you, your father, your sister, Lara, Ezra, Diane, my father, Ade- every single play, Wil put into motion,” Grant fiercely hisses.

“I didn’t know,” sputters out my lips. I start to shake, sobs wracking my body. I betrayed my family. I betrayed those I should be protectin
g. I betrayed myself and my heart because my slut of a body was calling the shots.

“How could you know,” Grant softly murmurs against my hair. “Wil was the first person you met. He pulled you into the game. I’m sure your big brother wasn’t much of a help. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t love Boyd, but don’t
trust him. He isn’t your Grandfather’s lackey, but you never know what Henry has Boyd up to… and never, ever, trust Wil,” Grant stresses, firmly shaking me.

“Okay,” I mumble. “Maybe I shouldn’t trust anyone.”

“That is the smartest thing you could’ve said,” Grant says. Amusement is strong in his voice.

“That would mean I can’t trust you
either.” I snort.

“
True, there is that,” Grant says with a smirk. “You can trust me, Faith. How about we change it to never trusting anyone unless you know their true motivations. They may do things that are wrong for their benefit. They may hurt you on accident because they must. Trust that people do care for you, but sometimes they will have to hurt you.”

“You’re scaring me,” I stiffly say.

“As you should be, because I’ve yet to tell you part two of our two-fold conversation,” Grant warns. “I’m sorry,” is breathed against my ear.

“You betrayed me somehow, didn’t you?”
I pull away from Grant’s chest so I can look in his eyes- big blue eyes that have smiled at me since I was a little girl running around during boring functions. I stare into the eyes that held my interest while Grant relentlessly teased me when I was Whitt’s age. Now I sit in Grant’s lap, taking his sound advice, and pray that he isn’t stabbing me in the back.

“I didn’t betray you…
no… but I do have bad news,” Grant murmurs into my ear, sending shockwaves of terror throughout my system. “All the major plays are done within a meeting. The plays that affect the entirety must be voted on. As I said earlier, it was a four-three vote, and you lost- you and Ezra lost.”

“Ezra already knows what’s happening, doesn’t he? It’s why he let you take me in here, and it’s why his voice shook when he left me.” I robotically say the words, fearing they are true, and knowing I can’t change anything. The bleak look on Grant’s face is answer enough. “Just get it over with. Spill it,” I order Grant, and he tightly laughs.

“This can go one of two ways,” Grant says, sliding me from his lap, hands gripping my upper arms. “You can comply and have two Elders in here with you, or you can fight it and have all seven holding you down,” he coldly says. Grant’s tone turns the blood in my veins to ice.

“No,” I sadly say, naïvely disbelieving t
his is happening. “No, not that,” my voice breaks, sounding childlike and innocent.

“Pearl is… Pearl refuses to be a part of this. She already killed her parents and a man named Nathaniel Hunter for
doing the same thing to her twin and a boy named Raymond. Pearl is reassuring Ezra while I talk with you.” Grant tightly grips my arms, holding me at arms’ length. He stares into my eyes, and I see moisture glistening around the blue gaze.

“Faith,” Grant says, audibly swallowing. “You can do this with as much dignity as you can take or you will be reduced to what you fear. Either way, you have to do this. But the choice is yours
on how you do it.”

“I don’t want to,” I whine, bottom lip quivering. I’ve never felt like such a child before, as we speak over very adult things. I want to believe in miracles and a safe warm place. I want to believe that my daddy or Aunt Amelia is going to break down those wooden doors and save me.

But I’m no longer a child, and I long ago stopped believing in fairytales- if I ever did believe in them in the first place.

“What do I have to do?” My voice shakes, but it comes powerfully from my mouth.

“You have choice to make. Ezra already chose option one because he didn’t want this witnessed and he didn’t want you harmed.”

“I don’t understand. Doing this doesn’t mean there will be a baby,” I whimper.

“I never said it was once,” Grant gravely says, and I choke on a sob.

“No,” I softly cry. “No,” I say while shaking my head no. “I’m not ready for a baby.”

“And there won’t be if I have anything to do with it. Firstly, I want you to grow up and pick a man you love, create a child within that love. My sons were made for the wrong reasons. I didn’t get a say in either instance. I promised myself never to do that to another living soul. Secondly, it will be at least a month before they need you to try again. By that time, you will be safely with your little sister. You will be treated and you will act as a girl your age should,” Grant promises.

“Except tonight… except t
onight I have to act like a whore,” I snarl.

“You can act strong and do it
on your own terms, or you can be victimized while hurting something vital inside Ezra. Your choice, Faith,” Grant angrily demands, fingers sharply biting into my upper arms.

“Ezra doesn’t like… I don’t want him to go to sleep and have
a meltdown,” I despondently mutter.

“
He’s had two days to come to terms with this. Ezra chose this path because the other options were heinous. You don’t want to know what else was suggested,” Grant coldly warns, all of his usual warmth is gone.

“What did Ezra choose?” I swallow and lick my lips. I stand up straight and look Grant in the eyes. He flashes me a reassuring smile and
gently pats my arms.

“Two Elders were chosen. Ezra picked. Rules stated that it had to be one Elder from each side of the vote. I was chosen because Pearl was grief-stricken and Stanton was incensed. Ezra felt you would trust me in here over the others.”

“Who else,” I numbly utter, already knowing what Grant is going to answer. “My grandfather?”

A sharp jerk of Grant’s chin is his answer. “We ne
gotiated on the terms: no light, save the glow of the fire. You will have the sofa, and we will stay by the door. Ezra will be searched for prophylactics on his way in. Ezra came up with an option that will drastically cut down the conception of a child. If you do get pregnant, than it was God’s will.”

“Leave it to Ez to want to use the backdoor,” I deadpan. Grant’s nervous laughter mingles with my own.

~Chapter Twenty-Four~

Sitting with my knees tucked to my chin, I glare at the double doors. Grant left me a few minutes ago. I thought of running… actually, I did run. I ran all the way to the doors, flung them open, and met a scary looking man on the other side. He sneered at me and said his name was Pierre Fontaine. I instantly shut the doors in his face, his sinister laughter permeating the study and trilling down my spine.

I can still hear Pierre’s nasty, anticipatory laugh as I glare at him through the doors. He keeps trying to talk to me; some of his words are in a foreign language- French.

I can’t do this. My heart starts beating wildly out of control- a trapped butterfly fresh from its chrysalis, fighting for freedom from its Mason jar prison. My breathing comes in sharp pants- threatening to make me hyperventilate. My teeth are chattering, jaw aching from the strain. Every muscle in my body painfully seizes up. I have to flex my hands to keep them from forming fists- crimson crescents dent my palms. All I can hear are the sounds my body makes as it goes into flight-mode.

The sound of the latch clicking over draws my
head up. My eyes instantly lock onto the person entering the room- Ezra. Relief washes over me, and then the dread settles into my gut. Ezra isn’t here to save me- he’s here to ruin our lives. He turns to say something through the crack of the door. I make out the words
give us thirty seconds,
before he shuts the door and turns to face me.

My soft sniffle sounds like a crack of gunfire.

Ezra prowls towards me- looking like a predator. His long limbs eat up the space between us within one heartbeat to the next. I know he isn’t here to hurt me. Ez is doing the best he can. We’re doing what needs done… but…

“Faith,” Ez’s sharp voice makes me recoil. “Don’t look at me like that,” he warns, voice angry that I’m looking at him like he’s a monster.

I draw a deep breath into my lungs, count to three, and expel it. I do this a few times to calm myself. Ezra slowly kneels before me as I cower on the sofa. Our eyes latch on for dear life- blue-contacted violet to stormy gray. When we are eye-level, he speaks.

“I won’t apologize, Faith,” Ezra begins firmly, but his voice breaks as a look o
f torment passes across his features. Tears glisten in his eyes and slip out the corners to fall down his cheeks. “My mom,” he chokes. “I love my mom more than life itself. I look her in the eyes every day and I hate what I see staring back at me. Pearl told me in graphic detail what happened to my parents. It isn’t the life I want for us. It’s something we could live through… but at what cost?”

“You’re giving up,” I accuse. “We should fight!” I pound his chest, fists landing painfully against his skin.

“You don’t get it,” Ez bites out, flinging my fists away as if they weigh nothing. “The enforcers… they are in the foyer. All of them!” he shouts. “Everyone here is blind to what is going on around them. My parents are dancing in the ballroom, and Divina and Cortez are laughing while our lives change. My aunt is in the bathroom, vomiting. Grant is out in the foyer, bawling. Stanton was having a faceoff with Henry and Mitchell- he’s now handcuffed in a private room... And your sister was so distraught that Boyd had to drag her from the house after he slapped her unconscious. This is just the beginning,” Ezra warns.

“You don’t fucking get it!” I scream so loud that my voice fades on the last wor
d. I swallow a dozen times before I can speak again. “This isn’t a fucking game,” I hiss through my clenched teeth. “A human being!” I shout in outrage. “
Our
human being!”

“Faith,” Ezra screams into my face, a verbal slap that reverberates down my spine and causes tears to sting my eyes. “My child,” he hisses, “your child. The fuck I don’t get it! I can’t fix it,” he sobs. “I tried and failed.” Ezra buries his face into his hands and weeps.

The need to comfort him overpowers me, but I harden my heart. I can’t force my hand to lift and settle on his shoulder. “They want us to make a child- a person they can use as a pawn in a game,” I breathe.

“I know,” he whispers back. “They will pay- I will make them
all pay. But right now, they will get what they want because we are powerless to stop it. Pearl, Stanton, Grant, Fate… do you want them to have to watch this. What of those enforcers that don’t want to do it but will because duty dictates it? There are kids out there our age- Stanton’s little brother- I used to play soccer with him. He has been my friend since I was in kindergarten. Boyd- a brother never should live with the nightmare of watching his sister’s rape. Wil…” Ezra whimpers. “No matter what happened between you two, don’t make him have to hold you down and be raped. Don’t do that to these people. It won’t be so bad if it’s just you and me. But it will ruin something in me if they… you don’t want to know what they suggested. They called me a faggot, and said they would use Cort to get me to do this,” Ezra seethes. “Please,” he pleadingly whispers, gray eyes bleeding pain and tears.

“I can’t,” I despondently say.

“Faith,” Ezra sighs my name. “It won’t matter- it’s going to happen. Don’t make my child be like me- don’t force this shame and pain into his or her soul. Don’t make him or her regret living. Don’t make a child look into his mother’s eyes and see the pain that he put there. Don’t make me hurt you- because they will force me to force you. Whether you want to do this or not, it’s happening. I’m sorry,” Ezra sadly says- conversation- discussion over.

Ez stands to his full height, never releasing my gaze. He
nods and turns on his heel, stalking back to the door. I can’t watch as he opens the door, but I can’t not watch either. My eyes fuse to Ezra’s back, watching his every movement for clues. His muscles tense when a man speaks to him.

“Is everyone going to attend,” My grandfather’s voice turns my stomach. It’s giddy, anticipatory- excited.
I can’t look at him without puking- so I don’t.

“No,”
Ezra firmly orders. “If you leave this door,” he threatens, “Pearl will retire in the next thirty seconds, and then where will you be. If you touch Faith, I will kill you- dead,” Ezra promises in a voice I’ve never heard before- it’s cold, empty- glass-on-glass sharp. “You will face the door the entire time. You peek over your shoulder and I will shove my thumbs into your eye sockets- don’t doubt me,” is Ezra’s final warning.