Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (6 page)

I want to tell him I was late because I’m not from
around here and I had to walk. I had no idea it would take two hours to find his apartment. This neighborhood isn’t exactly friendly towards a waspy girl, especially after dark. I want to yell that I was only two minutes late, not five... and none of this should matter because I showed up, didn’t I?

But what I
woodenly say is, “I was irresponsible,” knowing he’s testing me. If I answer wrong, I’ll feel that sharp sting on my other cheek, followed by the shameful burn of punishment. Message received, loud and clear- lesson learned.

“Good. Did you speak with your
Daddy
,” Wil snidely says. I decide right then and there, he will never hear that word from my lips. Because every time he twists the word, he disrespects my Daddy. My Daddy still breathes, but for how long? I’m already mourning his loss. Wil being nasty is disrespectful to the man’s memory. I will never utter that word in his presence again. I’m an expert at punishment by silence. Wil- he’d probably see the absence of my voice as a reward.

“Yes, Wil,” I say emotionlessly
, and he blinks in surprise. I’m learning him. A blink is a big response on his part. Looking at Wil, feeling the sting on my cheek, he doesn’t look like a kid. His eyes look ancient… and scary.

He watches me for a minute, thinking. “Now, I guess you understand that I’m not your buddy, don’t you?”

“Yes, Wil.”

“Are you going to tell me what he said?” We stare each other down, neither relenting.

Passive-aggressiveness makes my mouth wander.
“Are you asking?” His hand flies out and I jump back, knocking the chair to the ground with a loud clack to the linoleum floor. If he wants to punish me for a smart mouth, he’ll have to catch me first. I’m a moving target; I’ll never sit idly by while he beats on me.

“Pick the chair up and sit back down,” he
calmly demands. I do as Wil said, but I move the chair out of arm’s reach. He didn’t say where to put the chair, now did he?

“So?” he patiently prompts.

“He said I was to listen to you,” I mutter, trying to ignore the pang of agony when I realize that Daddy wants me to listen to Wil because he will never impart his knowledge to me again. Wil may be nasty, but he’s the only man who will take care of me now that Daddy can’t. But that isn’t good enough- I don’t need a man to take care of me, but something tells me that Wil won’t see it that way.

“Is that all?”
Wil sounds disbelieving. His eerie eyes glow beneath the thick fringe of his lashes. His brown eyebrows are confused slashes across his forehead.

“Yes, Wil,
” I robotically utter, giving him a passive look.

“I see we understand each other. You will behave and I won’t have to hurt you
,” he says, matter-of-fact. “One of my bosses has a request. Your father is still breathing, which she prefers. You’re not ready for his job yet. She wants to know if you know Cortez Abernathy. I realize he is a few years younger than you. If you don’t know him, I’m sure your little sister does. Ask her all she knows. I need you to date him,” Wil politely requests, like he’s asking me for the time.

“What?” I shout. I’d thought I was far enough away, I was wrong. Wil re
aches across the table and belts me a real good one before the completed word flows from my mouth. I taste blood on my tongue and my lips sting. “Ugh!” I grunt when he hits me again- still open-handed but the hardest hit I’ve ever felt. My ears ring and my head throbs from the force of the strike. I shake my head a few times, regretting it when my eyes feel like they are floating from dizziness. Moments later I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, it’s stained with red.

“
The first backhand was for the mouthing off and slamming the chair,” he punishes me for something I thought I’d gotten away with. “The second was for shouting,” he coldly lists my crimes. “We’re not alone, and I don’t wish her to be disturbed. You aren’t to make any noise at all. Just quietly answer the questions. If I punish you, you will take it like an adult- in silence,” he stresses. “I wish I couldn’t hear you breathe. But that’s an impossibility, as it would render you dead.” If I’d heard that turn of phrase back home, I would’ve thought he was being sarcastic. Not Wil, he’s being dead serious.

“I’m sorry,” the absurdit
y of apologizing for getting repeatedly belted across the face isn’t lost on me. “I hadn’t realized we ain’t alone. I hope I don’t wake your wife,” my voice quivers in anticipation for another punishing blow.

“
For the love of all that is holy, just don’t speak,” Wil sighs in disgust. “My God, you grate on my nerves,” he groans, rubbing his hair-fuzz. “I don’t have a wife. Are you mental?” He squints at me, really judging to see if I’m slow. “I’m seventeen, and this
ain’t
West Virginia. My little sister is in the next room. I don’t want Gretchen involved in this. Who do you think they hold over my head to get me to do this shit? Do you honestly think I enjoyed hitting you?”

I blankly stare at him
, imaging that I’d prolly enjoy belting him a good one across the mouth or a punch to the nads. So yes, I believe he enjoyed hitting me.

“That wasn’t
rhetorical. But you get the point. I’m given orders, and if I don’t do them in a timely fashion, I’m punished. I’m being hard on you because if you don’t do what you’re told, my innocent sister gets hurt. Then I have to hurt your innocent sister. I’ll do anything to make sure you do what you’re supposed to do, and I won’t feel guilty about it. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Wil.”

“Imagine someone hitting your sister like I just hit you? I’ve had to sit through that. No fourteen-year-old should be struck like an adult, especially by a man. I want Gretchen to be a kid. She’s all I have.” Real emotions flow across his face, proving that Wil loves his sister very much. “So you’re going to do as you’re told and we’re going to get along.”

“Yes, Wil.”

“Cortez Abernathy-”

“Permission to speak, Wil,” I uses Fate’s tone so I don’
t bother his ears. His subtle nod has me speaking. “You wanting me to spread my legs? As in be a whore for a teenage kid?” I have to keep reminding myself that I’m my sister. I’m not Faith. What would Fate do? She’d be upset over this, I have no doubt.

“I realize the age difference is… I’ve done my research. You’ve dated many guys, so don’t sell me a line of bullshit that you don’t know how to seduce a man. It’s an inborn talent in all women. The only thing they
’re good at is spreading their legs for one thing or another.”

I stare at Wil
in shock, my mouth gaping open, flames flowing from my nostrils, and sparks shooting from my eyes- not really, but it sure feels like there are. I tamp down the outrage as I tune my ears. Did Wil really just say that? I must be mistaken. The serious look on Wil’s face confirms that he did, in fact, just freakin’ say that. Not one kernel of feminism in me, but that right there, turned me into a raging feminist.

Wil
just said that…

“You just said your sister was all you had, and here you are ta
lking about women like that?” Wil scowls at me for talking out of turn, but I keep talking anyway. “That’s disgusting. How would you feel if someone told your sister to date some kid just because? If not now, then in a few years, when she’s a grown woman. Either way, that’s still gross.”

“I’m doing everything I
can do to avoid that,” he calmly explains, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “She isn’t a grown woman, so the point is moot.”

I wanna scream
well, I ain’t either
. “You’re a misogynistic pig,” I hiss. My hands are blocking my face before he can move. “Mark me up all ya want, and then I can’t go whoring for ya,” I taunt, the sound muffled by my raised arms.

In the blink of an eye, I’m yanked over the table by my hair with a
silencing hand over my mouth and nose- suffocating me into compliance. I struggle in earnest against his hold, thrashing and kicking at anything in my way. The table is rocking, legs banging loudly on the linoleum floor. My blood is pounding in my ears, skin turning red from my struggles. But I’m not frightened, my temperature is boiling over. I claw at his hands and kick for his legs. If I could just get loose, I’d punch him in the nuts. I feel I’m a bigger person trapped inside my child-sized body. A sharp kidney jab has me falling lax in his hold. Whimpers escape my throat and I’m ashamed of them. I didn’t fight hard enough, but I’m no fool. I won’t be hurt over pride. I know when to cry uncle.

“Li
sten good, you little bitch,” Wil seethes under his breath, breathing raggedly. “You will learn. You will do as you’re told or you will suffer the consequences. Because they will not,” he threatens.

Wil ruthlessly
drags me though the tiny apartment by fisting my hair. Pieces snap off with a sharp pinch on my scalp. My heels scuff the floor as he drags me caveman-style around his furniture. I want to resist, but all I can do is hang onto his forearm as my body is banged and bruised on random pieces of furniture. The corner of the end table is going to leave a bitch of a bruise on my thigh.

Wil opens a door and
roughly shoves me inside a bedroom. My heart is beating rampantly, thinking my death is on the horizon. The sound of my breathing is all I can hear. No doubt Wil is imagining snuffing the life out of me, just so he doesn’t have to hear the raspy sound of my breath or the relentless beat of my heart. But my impending death isn’t what Wil wanted me to see.

“Don’t make her pay be
cause you’re a spoiled cunt,” Will growls low in his throat, lips brushing the shell of my ear, breath fluttering the small hairs at the nape of my neck. He shakes me real good, until my eyes roll and my neck cracks. “Take a look at her. When you get home, I want you to go to your sister’s room and look in on her. I want you to remember this moment. If you misbehave, they are the ones who’ll suffer the consequences. So I will hurt you without leaving a mark, and then you will go out and fuck whomever I tell you to. Got it?”

Wil
shakes me again, this time the muscle in my neck gets pulled- a snapping sound that echoes around the bedroom- and I whimper in pain. Violent shooting pains stab me in the side of the neck- radiating out towards my shoulder and down my spine. That is what he meant by not leaving a lasting mark- no visible signs of the pain that will plague me for weeks to come. Wil has my undivided attention now- I will obey him.

“Look at her, don’t forget,” he
quietly demands, dragging me over to the single bed. I swallow the pain down into my stomach and bury it. Pain ain’t nothing new for me to feel.

Curled
up around a pillow is a darker-skinned girl around my age. She has on pajamas with little ducklings and fluffy cloud. She’s a big girl, with pretty mocha skin. Her eyes are closed and she’s breathing softly. She sleeps soundly knowing her big brother will take care of everything- that he will kill anything that ever threatens her.

I
briefly wonder what that feels like- to have a brother, a protector.

I shake my head to tell Wil
that I get it. The movement screams like lightning through my neck and down my spine. I blink back tears that he thinks are because I’m aching. I’m crying because Wil will do anything to save this girl- a girl who’s my age, a girl who’s at least fifty pounds and several inches bigger than me. She can’t take care of herself, but I have to. Now, I’m taking care of her, too, in a roundabout way. I’ve never felt so lost and alone in my life. 

Wil
’s not as rough on the return trip, but it’s not pleasant either. My body is bruised and battered, my neck is displaced. I sit in the hard kitchen chair as he stares at me. I know my crying is pissing Wil off, but it ain’t none of his dang business why the tears fall.

“What hurts? Why are you crying?”
Wil demands in a calm, flat voice. His eyes follow the tear tracks down my cheeks. I refuse to wipe them away. I can tell he thinks I’m doing it on purpose, like I’m trying to garner his sympathy. That’s not it. Swiping at them would acknowledge that the tears exist, that I’m crying. I’m being belligerent and in denial. It’s better than feeling what I’m really feeling inside.

“Nothing, Wil,” I robotically answer. He arches a brow in challenge, knowi
ng I’m lying. “Do you allow Gretchen to cry? Do you hold her when she does?”

“You aren’t Gretchen
,” he dully says, causing me to wince.

“I wasn’t asking you to hold me, if that’s what you thought.
” I stare right back at him, making sure Wil knows I ain’t lying. The thought of him being gentle with me never crossed my mind. “I just want to know if you do.”

“Trying to figure me out, are you? Trying to find the humanity in me?
” His lips quirk up in amusement, and for once it isn’t snide. It’s a sad smile filled with remorse. “Well, princess, all the pain you feel is self-inflicted. If I hit you, it’s because you made me.”

“I get that now
,” I readily admit, and it’s Wil’s turn to wince, like his earlier words were scripted- that he didn’t really believe them and my reaction confuses him. The problem is that I can see where he’s coming from. I put this on myself. “Do you?” I softly ask if he’s nice to his little sister.