Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (36 page)

I silently slip from their bathroom and pad across their carpeted floor. Words freeze me mid-step, “Make love to me,” Ezra sleepily asks Cort.

“Always,” Cort says in a voice I’ve never heard- it’s not spoken from the boy I call friend. Cort sounds like a man in bed with his lover. That is the voice that is solely for Ezra. 

A low, deep moan has me slipping from their bedroom and escaping down the hallway. I silently ghost down the staircase, not making a sound. I stick to the shadows, blending into my environment- as I belong.

“How is she?” Marc’s voice catches my interest. I silently tiptoe to the entry to his office.

“I feel like I’m living on borrowed time,” Grant murmurs. “It hurts.”

“Jamie,” Marcus sighs.

Jamie?

“It’s hard enough dealing with Ezra’s moods. I can’t stand it when you speak like that. It hurts
me
,” Marc stresses.

“You should hate me,” Grant mutters. “I walked into the life you were supposed to have.”

“If that was the life I was supposed to have… I’d have it. Besides, I was already married to Diane. I wouldn’t leave my boys for anyone… and never for a woman that I don’t really know.”

“She’s perfect for you,” Grant snorts. “My God, she really is,” he sounds awed.

“Be that as it may… if it is fated, it will be. My hands are full with my son at the moment. Something is going on with him.”

“I can’t live like this much longer,” Grant spits out. “It is literally killing me- the lying.” The soft beat of feet pacing on hardwoo
d fills the air. I hug the door casing, trying to hear without being discovered.

“Whitt? Lying about Whitt to everyone… to Regina?”

“Yeah, that’s part of it. Listen, I have to tell you something important,” Grant begins. My heart grows fluttering wings and flies out of my chest. “I’m sorry, Master,” his voice breaks. “You’ll hate me.”

“N
othing I could ever imagine would make me hate you. We’ve been best friends since I hit Hillbrook. You comfort me,” Marcus softly says in a cadence that makes my heart ache.

“I want to divorce Cora. I…”

“Ah,” Marc sighs, “I see. You’re going to take her from me, in the permanent sense of the word.”

“I told you that you’d hate me,” Grant grumbles.

“I don’t hate you. Regina is the mother of your child. The stress would lessen for you if you were to marry her and raise your sons. I will never step between my best friend and the mother of his son.”

“I did it to you. I intercepted her just as you were going for her,” the shame in Grant’s voice is suffocating.

“Water… bridge…” Marcus mutters.

“And a blowtorch to burn that sucker down,” Grant’s taunt has Marcus heartily laughing.

“Behave, Jamie, or else I will tell you to jump from said burning bridge, and then I will steal your woman and boys for myself… Faith,” Marc calls, “care to join us, or would you rather I hand you a glass so you can press it against the wall to get a better listen?”

“How?” I
ask as I step around the doorjamb- annoyed that I was caught. I have to get better at this if I plan on existing on this planet for long.

Grant looks spooked, he had no idea I was there. But Marcus has a smirk twisting his
handsome lips.

“I didn’t hear or see you. I could just
feel
you standing over there. Are you alright?” Marcus’ voice is filled with concern.

“I’m good,” I lie, adding a shake of my head for affect. “I was just going home.” I turn to flee but Marc’s voice stops me.

“Walking home at three-thirty a.m. in the dead of winter,” Marc says in a way that makes me feel foolish. “I don’t think so, Faith. It’s only fourteen degrees outside, and it’s snowing.”

“I… I can’t sleep here,” I stammer.

“Ah,” Marc breathes out, knowing exactly why I can’t stay here. “Okay. Jamie will drive you home then.”

“Jamie?” I arch an eyebrow at Grant.

“His middle name,” Marc answers my confusion. “I use it as his nickname.”

“Oh, um… I’ll walk. You guys were talkin
g… and it’s not nice to tell Grant to drive me home without asking him first. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Marc’s deep, sinister laugh frightens me, but it has Grant smirking. “Jamie will do whatever I tell him to do, whether it’s a bother or a burden or jumping from a flaming wooden bridge. He does as he’s told,” Marc arrogantly says.

“I don’t know how to reply to that,” I mumble.

“You don’t,” Grant snorts. “It’s no trouble. I have to drive by your house on the way to mine, anyway. Let’s go.”

~Chapter Twenty-Six~

Grant d
rives past my home and down that same road that leads to nowhere… the road that Ezra and I walked down weeks ago as we created a strong friendship… the road that Wil drove down and ruined something inside of me.

He drives his small car fast, hugging the curves as we wind down the road at impossible speeds.
The acceleration creates a cold sweat on the back of my neck. Snowflakes rapidly assault the windshield, creating a feeling of euphoria, like stars shooting across a night’s sky. Grant bypasses the spot Wil and I took each other’s virginity before I can even blink my eyes. A fleeting memory, water cupped in a palm of your hand that spills between your fingers- no matter how badly you want to keep it, you can’t hold onto something intangible.

My breath hitches in my throat as we reach breakneck speeds on several sets of s-curves. Grant’s hand on the gearshift moves without thought as his eyes laser on the road ahead of us. Around and around we go, faster and faster we wind- running, escaping from the madness of Crest
view Drive that threatens to break us.

By the time we enter a narrow dirt drive that is thickly lined with woods, we’re both breathing raggedly. Panting, our breath billowing until it fogs the windows. We are exhilarated, enlivened by the drive.

“Ah,” my breath hitches as we reach our destination- I never want to leave.

“It’s a fantasy world- it’s where I go when I can’t deal with reality,” Grant’s soothing soft voice fills the
quiet, night-filled car. “We can talk or we can just gaze. There are no rules here.”

Ahead of us is a breathtaking view that I am humbled and honor
ed that Grant wanted to share with me. A small, frozen lake glitters in the moonlight. Snow creates a blue-white blanket over the landscape, covering what is beneath and offering hope for a pure future. I stare for a long while, transfixed and awed, at Grant’s fantasy within reality.

“This is Marc’s property. Someday, when he has the family he deserves- the family I will get him if it kills me, I will build him a home to place here. I love my friend like no other- I have done him wrong. This is my ultimate gift to Marc.” Grant speaks of things I do not understand and have no hope of unraveling.

“This was Rebekah Zeitler’s home. She was a modest woman that my mother respected and cherished. She raised her son and daughter in a home across the lake. She lived with integrity and an immense wealth of love. Rebekah lived through the deaths of her husband, daughter, son, and son-and-daughter-in-laws. She didn’t turn into a bitter woman- she lived for her grandsons. Marcus and Dexter were raised in a small house filled with love. Money, coercion, death, and agony… nothing influenced Rebekah; nothing pushed her off the course she knew was right. Rebekah’s faith kept her sane. When I feel a lack of faith, I come here for inspiration and grounding.”

I rip my eyes from the scenery to stare at Grant. His voice is so hollow, somber, filled with longing and mourning. Silent tears stream down his cheeks but a smile plays along his lips.

“I did right by Rebekah. It is the only noble thing I’ve ever done. The two-story wooden house that overlooked the lake burnt to the ground one night just before dawn. Marcus was… he was away. Dexter was at University. Rebekah was on an impromptu vacation with my mother and her companion, Martha. A vacation I arranged and made sure they took. I was harshly punished as the sun breached the horizon, and I was punished with a smile on my face.”

“Why?” I cry. “Why do that to her?”

“It was voted on- the Simpson family wasn’t allowed to vote yet. Thomas had to endure fifteen years of torture to solidify his position as Elder of a new family line. They took the vote the day before your father could make a difference. Six families, in lieu of a tie, the victor is the one who called the vote. Mitchell called the vote- it was that day that I promised myself I would do anything to win this game- anything. Lie. Cheat. Steal. Kill. I will murder my very soul just so that the evil does not prevail. There was no tie. It was the five Elders that were the sickest and Pearl. I knew it would pass. I sat there as one by one they said yay- Uncle Jack said nay, and that’s how I knew it was the most depraved thing they’ve ever committed. If Jack thought it was wrong, it was so very, very wrong.”

Grant takes a huge breath of air and steps out of the car. I watch in stunned silence as he walks away from the car, the headlights
illumining his path. He steps onto a wooden dock that juts into the frozen lake. My body is propelled by fear that Grant will harm himself. No thought filters through my mind except for
save him
. 

The snow-
caked grass crunches under my feet as I sprint to Grant’s side. My breath billows into the cold air. When I reach him, my hand quickly finds Grant’s, and I tightly wraps my fingers around his.

“It was a few months before I became The Whittenhower. I made sure that no one was home. I removed all the important belongings that Rebekah had collected down the generations.” Grant turns to look at me, his blue gaze locking on
to mine. “And then I torched their home,” he whispers his confession.

I stare in stunned silence, eyes wide with disbelief. Slowly Grant turns from me and faces the frozen lake. “At the meeting, after the vote, they told me Whitt was my son. They said they would hurt him. He was a six-year-old little boy. I secured everyone
, and then I burnt the house to the ground. I stood here and watched it fall. The elders, heirs, and enforcers walked up behind me and watched. When the house was gone, they put me in the lake- repeatedly drowning me and resuscitating me as punishment.”

“Why? You did as they asked,” I cry in alarm.

“I didn’t,” Grant confesses. “It was a test. It was just a test I failed… or passed, depending on which side of the game you play. They needed Rebekah gone so they could influence Marcus. He was twenty-one at the time- they thought Marc would be malleable under whatever duty they gave Diane. Marc doesn’t know it, but he has just begun year one of the fifteen years of torturous initiation. Your father knew it as he was played. Rebekah knew it, as did her husband before her. The Zeitler family was jumped in without consent. I was to burn Rebekah with the house. She was months away from becoming an Elder and changing the course of the game. I wouldn’t even kill the elderly woman to save my son. Nothing could get me to do it, and I nearly died as the price.”

“Grant,” I whimper, pulling him into my arms and cradling him tightly.

“Marc… I lie to his face. I took the woman he’s in love with. And I do this to protect him. He has fourteen years of utter hell ahead of him,” Grant sobs deep from his chest. “You trust me and you shouldn’t, Faith. Never trust my intentions, because I’m using you right now. I care for you, but I am using you harder than I’ve ever used anyone before. I need your help,” Grant whispers into the side of my neck, hanging on for dear life.

“I’ll help,” I promise, my voice shaking with fright.

Grant lifts his head and looks at me, pinning me with his stare. “Regina,” he breathes, “Those ruthless bastards voted the Regal family in, too. It was a three vs. four vote in the favor of Mitchell. They are playing Regina now. They know Marc’s feelings for Regina and my feelings for both of them. Mitchell wants a devious, twisted game. Lover against lover. Friend against friend. Sibling against sibling. Parent against child. You can’t outwardly challenge your blood, but Mitchell will make sure we skirt the rules. We are nothing but the game’s sheep. Mitchell knows he isn’t long for this world, but he wants to leave a psychotic legacy that no one can escape. It was Mitchell’s father that wanted an unplayable game through all of the elders having Meyers’ blood. The addition of Regina and Marcus changes the outcome of the game. It will also force me to play to protect them. Cort, being Gwen’s enforcer, will force Ezra to be ruthless. Fate, Boyd, Bianca, Whitt, you, and all of the children will be at each other’s throats- wild, rabid animals tearing apart their kin. It will be a bloodbath, and it’s just the beginning. Our children’s generation is the one that will be decimated,” Grant utters a mournful keen and grips me tightly.

“I’ll do all that I can to help,” I vow
, and mean it to the core of my being.

“I know,” Grant smiles through his tears. “It’s why I’m helping you now, because
we will need you later.”