Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (49 page)

Boyd sends his regards, not said as pleasantly, I might add. From the outside, he and
Gretchen are the perfect couple. But I sneak around when they aren’t paying attention. They fight. Boyd is a bullhead and Gretchen is a child- a child with pregnancy hormones running in her veins. Needless to say, I avoid them at all costs, and well, I love them like a brother and a sister- because they are- so you get the point on how horrid they are behaving.

Your best friends have went to shit. Ez is walking around with a strange confidence as Cort fucks everything that breathes. I assume that the mysterious Master Ez is firmly in control while Cortez works on contracting as many STDs
as he can possibly carry. Word around the city is that Cort cheated on you with your sister so you ran away, and it created a monster. Cortez doesn’t seem to have an age, race, or physical preference. He’s even been going after Pearl’s daughter. I’ve wanted to contact him to see where his head is at, but it’s against the rules. My current partner is AWOL and insane, and my future partner has his head shoved up his ass- I’m just fucked all around. I’ve personally spoken with Ez. We made a pact to contact the other if we speak to you. A new play is active. Yours won’t expire until Ezra’s eighteenth. I know how much this will affect you, so I apologize for hurting you. It’s not my intent. I simply think you should know. Ezra Zeitler and Adelaide Whittenhower’s union is in play. The Elders seek a power couple. Sorry about the shitty news on that front.

Now
, here’s some good news. Amelia Simpson was sentenced to two years. Your father’s death created an issue for the District Attorney’s office, as they were hoping to use Thomas’ conviction as proof against his sister. Amelia pled guilty to lesser charges and took a plea agreement. You will see your aunt again. I visited her for you and told her what I knew you wanted her to know. She sends her love and said to stay strong.

The i
nteresting news that you may do with as you wish. You can ignore it. Use it to say goodbye. Or seek the vengeance you deserve.

I write this letter the night before I seek you out. Use that as a timeline. Tomorrow is my eighteenth. I have to at least see you on the day. I hope to see you on yours. What good is a partner if you can’t share the milestones? Here is the biggest milestone ever.

We have Lara. She was tricky to catch. I personally tracked her across the country, to Canada, and of all places, West Virginia. My target was taken at Thomas Simpson’s grave. I waited to hear her confession.

Your father’s death before the conclusion of the trial rendered him innocent. You can’t try a dead man. That meant that the frozen accounts, the repossess vehicles, and all the items taken for evidence were returned to your father’s wife. The
same evidence that would have convicted your aunt. That was the sole reason Lara hired a man to commit a crime that placed him in the holding cell with your father. You don’t need any more details than that.

Lara is being held at The Meyers’ house, where I am currently writing this. They gave her forty-eight hours to tell them everything. By the time you receive this, you have less than eighteen hours to do as you wish.

Advice: don’t go with emotion or your heart. Go with your gut and intuition. Do what you can live with. This is your only chance either way. And as sick as it is to say, I am fucking excited to see what you do.

I miss you
, and I can’t wait to see you. I wish I could tell you all the things that I have to lie about to your face. I’ve admitted to lying to you, and then again I said I don’t lie to you as often as you think. A hint for the future, I lie to everyone one hundred percent of the time and you ninety percent of the time. I won’t apologize for it, because the truth would hurt you, and it would kill me to see the look of disgust on your face. I care about you too much to see you look at me like that. It’s inevitable. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to live the illusion for as long as possible.

Never doubt this, what we shared in my car, was all about us- and only us. That look of horror was because I knew what I was feeling and what you were feeling would never outlast what you don’t know yet.

You’re always in my thoughts. I hope you are bonding with your sister.

Do what you can live with. What doesn’t kill
you makes you stronger, and you will always persevere.

Your partner
,
-L. Wilson

~Chapter Thirty-Nine~

My mind whirls and I don’t even know where to begin. I know I can’
t keep Wil’s letter, no matter how badly I wish to. I read it five, six times over- imprinting the perfect block lettering and the information and sentiment.

I close my eyes as my fingers shred the single page of notebook paper into tiny pieces. They fall to float in the toilet bowl. I take a deep breath for courage and flush the evidence. I brush a few
stray tears away as I make a break for it.

The exact reason that Stanton doesn’t allow me any outside contact is what’s making me slowly raise Bianca’s bedroom window without waking her. I silently step out to the fire escape.
Stanton, being a protective parent and an uber-teenage thwarter, placed Bianca in the room with the fire escape and Caleb and I get the rooms with a view of Morretti’s brick façade. I’m sure there was planning on his part. Since the stairwell leads directly to Frankie and the elevator leads directly to Frankie, the only way to escape prison Green is through Stanton’s bedroom or Bianca’s. I release a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, when the window is shut and my sister is still peacefully sleeping.

I scurry down the fire escape as fast as I possibly can. It takes me to the rear of the building. An alleyway cuts through here to
access the bar and restaurant. I pray that no one exits one of the rear doors. This block of buildings is all Stanton’s, and that means everyone in them is his eyes and ears.

I wore the softest soled shoes I own. My footsteps do not make a sound on the damp pavement. April showers bring May flowers. We’re less than a week from May, it rains constantly. Luck is on my side this early morning, it’s only sprinkling.

I’m also thankful that I read the note when I did. If I’d waited any longer, I’d have missed my opening. It’s four a.m. and I have to be back before Stanton wakes to go to work at six.

Another lucky thing for me, and I hope that my luck doesn’t run out before dawn, is that I know my new helper’s schedule better than my own. I have no life, so I’ve been fascinated with his. I know that he stands out here until six a.m. trolling the crowd that works night shift and the idiots who finally woke from wherever they passed out hours before.

I tiptoe up to him, giddy with the prospect of finally talking to him after telescopically stalking him for the better part of two months. I tap his shoulder and he freaks the fuck out- it’s awesome. I feel fucking alive.

“What?” Roman shrieks like a girl, his black hair swinging around his face as he looks for me. He’s tall, like really freakin’ tall. “Oh, hi there,” Roman says in a flirty voice
that rumbles deep from his chest- it’s nice and seductive. I hope Gwen never meets him; she’d eat him for breakfast. “I didn’t see you down there.”

“Ha!” I huff a laugh. “
I haven’t heard a short joke before,” I sarcastically say. “Listen, I need your help.”

“And why would I help you, little one? Stanton would have my head,”
Roman grumbles, tucking a hank of hair behind his ear. I can’t tell if Roman’s eyes are green or blue, but they are brilliant. I’d wondered. His skin is darker- Native American, maybe.

“What Stanton doesn’
t know, won’t hurt him.” I try to flirt by rolling my tongue ring along my bottom lip and sucking on the ball. I figure Roman is a flirty guy. I’ll work with whatever I can.

“What Stanton doesn’t know, Stanton always finds out,” Roman mocks me.

“Fine, I’ll pull out the big guns-”

“Sweetling, you’re… cute? Nah, not cute…
interesting?” Roman looks confused and amused as how to describe me. “But I don’t do favors. That means I don’t take physical payment, especially from minors that I’ve been warned off from.”

“Thanks for the ego boost, jackass. I’ll can the flirting. It’s not me, anyway,” I grumble. “I wasn’t going to offer
those
services.” I narrow my eyes. Must every man have his mind in the gutter or is the word
WHORE
tattooed on my forehead. “Information,” I use as a lure, “for a ride to The Gates.”

“Oh, fuck no. I am not going over to the rich section. No!” Roman kicks off his wall and heads towards the end of the building.

“Regina Regal,” I shout and he freezes in place.
Yeah, that’s the shit that works with Roman.

Roman whips around,
blue-green eyes scrutinizing me. A wide smile splits his face. “You do look familiar, that is if I were to remove the Goth. Follow me, I’d be willing to drive you anywhere in the Tri-state area or Pennsylvania for info on my sweetheart. The Gates will be my pleasure.”

An old beater is at the end of the alleyway, ancient but spotless. What is it with guys and their cars? Every car I’ve
been in that was owned by a man was immaculate- most of those same men, their living environment looked like a pig sty… and I would know, Aunt Amelia raised pigs for a few year when I was small. When I figured out I was eating my pets, I freaked the fuck out. I haven’t been able to eat pork since.

I purr and close my eyes when the heater hits me
full blast and dries the damp from the rain. Roman is staring at me, probably wondering why in the hell I’m so comfy with a stranger who happens to be a drug dealer. “I’ve seen you around,” I offer as explanation.

“Riiiight,” he draws out, not buying it. “Pay up.”

“Half now, half on the way back. I don’t want to be left stranded,” I negotiate. I assume that it’s a done deal when Roman turns over the ignition and heads towards Crestview.

“Are we committing a crime?” Roman raises a perfect, black eye brow. What the hell was Regina thinking, leaving this hottie behind? My goodness, he’s pure sex on a stick. Not my type, but… wow!

“Dude, of course we’re committing a crime,” I say in a tone that screams how preposterous it was that he had to ask. “Well, I’m the criminal and you’re my getaway driver.”

“And what made you think I was the man for this job?”

“You’re the most obvious criminal that I could find at this early hour. Plus, you have wheels.”

“What crime are
we
committing this morning in the Gates?”

“It would be best if you didn’t know… just in case you’re questioned.”

“Lovely,” Roman sarcastically growls. “Which sickeningly rich place are we visiting for the scene of the crime that I know nothing about?”

“Crestview Drive. Regina lives in there, too!”

“I know where she lives and I know where I’ve seen you before, Girly!” Roman excitedly says. “You’re her best friend… what was the name… what was the name… Fate! That’s it, Fate! Hi, again,” he charmingly sings.

“You’ve met my sister?” I say in shock.

“Oh,” Roman grumbles in disappointment. “I bet you’re the baby sister, too. I was joking about the minor part earlier. But I bet you are, aren’t you?”

“I’m only sixteen,” I ruefully admit.

“Fucking perfect,” Roman spits. “Stanton is going to shear off my balls and shove them up my ass. Perpetrating a crime with a minor,” Roman mutters under his breath. “Fuck the cops, Stanton will kill me.”

“Oh, calm down, hoss! We won’t get caught, and Stanton will never hurt you. I’ve known Regina since I was nine. Up until seven weeks ago, I saw her almost every day. She’s doing good- healthy. Now tell me where and when you met my sister,” I demand.

“Pushy,” Roman says with a glare in my direction. “I like that.”
HUH?
“Your sister used to visit Regina while Ella was failing. It was sweet and the mark of a true friend.”

“I… I guess… What?” I stutter. “I guess I don’t know my sister after all.”

“What number?” Roman asks breaking me out of my silent contemplation.

“Eleven seventy-eight,” I mutter. “But park down the street,” I quickly add.

I move to get out, but a firm grip to my arm stops me. “I’ve got good, juicy gossip. I’m a hoarder of gossip and secrets. I promise. Just wait for me here and on the return home I’ll ply you with information.”

“Be careful, is what I was going to say,” Roman quietly says. “I’ll go with you if you need me.”

“This is a ghost operation. Don’t worry. If I’m not back in an hour, leave. They won’t hurt me, just keep me for their own version of sexual slavery- no biggie!”

“Surely you’re joking,” Roman chuckles. When I don’t smile, he says, “Right?”

“Wrong,” I say as I exit the car and blend in with the limestone wall that borders the house Roman parked next to. Of all the houses in Crestview Drive, he chose mine to park in front- coincidence?