Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (8 page)

“What’d you say?” She walks out of my closet with stuff I’ve never seen. If I had to guess, Fate was squirreling
purchases in my room so she wouldn’t get caught with them- lacy things.

“
Plus, Grant asked me to stay at Whittenhower Estates with Regina,” Fate conversationally says like she didn’t just drop a bomb on my world. She doesn’t have to say it. I know she’s already left me here to fend for myself. Alone. Alone with Lara. “We’re going to school together and studying-”

“Why?”

“Adelaide made me promise to take good care of Regina. Last year was difficult for her. She’d just lost her mom and had a baby. Niel just turned six-months old. With how everything is right now, I’d be one less mouth to feed.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. It’s a nervous tick that we share.

“You’re leaving me?” I whine. “When?”

“Two weeks.” Fate looks away from me and dabs underneath her eyes. “I need to teach you how to be a lady. You’re in desperate need of a crash course in makeup, dressing sexy, and how to talk to boys.”

“I don’t need instruction. I need my sister!”
I pound my already tender thigh and pout.

“
I will visit you and Mom, but I can’t live here. I don’t even know how much longer we’ll be allowed to live here. I feel horrible. I’ve lived here since I was born. My dad is gone, my home is gone…”

“You
r sister ain’t,” I yell, forgetting to say
isn’t
. “Your mom is still here. You’re leaving me alone with the woman that hates me. You’re who should be taking care of me. I’m your family. I love Regina, but she’s isn’t your sister. I am! What about me?” I cry, tears twisting my voice.

“My future is with Regina,” Fate
whispers. Her calm doesn’t even leave her when she’s crying. “I know I’m a coward. I’m not as strong as you to face this alone.”

“You wouldn’t be
alone; you’d be facing it with your sister and momma!”

“I’m sc
ared and Regina makes me feel safe,” Fate whimpers.

Safe- that is the word that shuts me u
p. Fate will be safe if she’s with Regina at Whittenhower Estates. I wouldn’t have to worry about her- worry that she’s being fed, clothed, housed, and cared for, and most importantly, safe from Wil.

“Teach me all you know about girly-shit. Your sister has been deprived.” I wink. “And don’t be a stranger around here. Come home and visit us.”

“Oh, Faith,” my sister croons. “I’ll be back a couple times a week. You’ll be sick of me!”

Fate’s right. I can only take so much of her pleasant enthusiasm, and then I miss her so much I feel empty without her.
Push and pull, my sister and me.

“Concealer, a woman’s best friend…” And then the
tangent begins: makeup and more makeup. Roll the waist of your skirt to shorten it. A clip to the back of your blouse will pull the fabric over your breasts, making your boobs pop. Always get your blazers a size too small to show off your tits, too bad for us since we’re already dinky. High heels aren’t allowed at Hillbrook, so buy a pair of Mary Janes that have a chunky heel. The teachers won’t know the difference, and you’ll finally be five feet tall. Smile and bat your eyelashes. Only act smart with the smart boys and downplay your intelligence with the ones who aren’t. Giggle- giggle a lot, even when you don’t want to. Wear a high, springy ponytail and bounce when you walk. You need to bounce your tits and your hair.

I roll my eyes and suffer in silence as she fills my brain with utterly useless, phony horseshit…

~Chapter Six~

Hillbrook’s imposing structure has nothing on its students. As a sophomore, I’m in the middle of the pack. I can easily blend in. I’
m no longer the littlest fish in the pond, nor am I the big fish eating those tiny, impressionable fishies. I survived last year by my name alone- the fear my sister and her girls had placed in the minds of all those beneath them lasted half the year. After that, I was invisible and left alone. Perky, bitchy Fate isn’t fresh in the students’ minds any longer. No fear of Regina’s six feet of wicked pissed raining down on your head if you mess with the quiet Simpson. Ade- well, who isn’t afraid of Adelaide Whittenhower? Only Regina. I’m on my own. I’ll have a target on my back if I lurk and hide like freshman year.

Normal kids don’t have my issues. Every kid here, my father stole from their
parents- millions upon millions upon millions of dollars. It will be a miracle if I last the day without getting beat to death. The need to please Wil outweighs my well-honed survival instincts. I can’t hide in the shadows where I long to melt. I must seek attention- sweet torture for the introvert.

My
objective is just ahead of me, entering the huge double doors of the stone building that used to be a Catholic Cathedral. The main church is used for religious studies, with attached structures for the classrooms. The dormitory, cafeteria, and gymnasium are across the back lawn. The imposing school takes up an entire city block.

Proof that Wil didn’t do his homework is before me. I must have had my head up my ass
not to have noticed before. I wasn’t really into boys yet. The eight years of schooling in West Virginia didn’t prepare me for this kind of thing. Basically, there were thirty-some kids who paired up, and the last one standing was alone. Which was fine by me- boys weren’t on my radar. Surely, gay boys weren’t on my radar. Not that I’d know a gay boy if I saw one. But this… this is really obvious. Or it could be that I finally notice the signs since Fate pointed them out.

Ezra Zeitler and Cortez Abernathy lean against the stone wall in the annex
, chatting with every student that passes by. Watching them is surreal. They could be twins if it wasn’t for their differences. Ezra’s skin is lighter than my own, giving him a ghostly appearance. His white-blond hair brings out his gray eyes. The pale of Ezra’s skin makes his eyes look more steel than blue, with a serious edge. Cortez is sunshiny. His golden skin brightens his gray eyes. Cortez wears a perpetual look of amusement.

That is where the differences end. Everything else is identical: Short, cropped hair, that looks silky in texture. Body shape is lean and lanky, with their height near six-feet.
Cortez looks looser when he moves because Ezra is so serious, but their movements are mirrored. Even their eyes are the same. It’s only their skin tone and personalities that mark them as different.

You would think them brothers. That is until you see Ezra’s hand brush the back of Cort’s, and Cortez returns the soft gesture. The possessive expression Ezra has on his face reminds me of a man looking at his family.
Cortez belongs to Ezra. How I never saw it before is beyond me.

Jesus Christ, what am I going to do?

First step: stop taking the Lord’s name in vain while standing in a Catholic school. I need the big guy on my side if I’m going to get through this. I don’t need hellfire and damnation striking me where I stand.

Second step: friendship. Obviously they are a
couple and there is no seduction to be had. I will have to befriend them and hope they like me. Wil said he needed to see us on a date as proof for his employer. Well, he didn’t say it couldn’t be a group date. He won’t know it’s just as friends. Maybe I’ll like Ezra and Cortez. I could use some friends. I always got along better with guys anyway.

Third step: remove this makeup and put my clothes on the right way. If I have to do this, I have to do it as me. Pretending that my name is Fate when I’m around Wil is one thing, pretending to be sed
uctive is another. I’m an eighty pound fifteen-year-old girl. I may be curvy, but I was never the type of girl who was boy-crazy. I’ve always liked guys as my buddies. I’ve just never met one I wanted to date. I’ll just keep telling myself that I don’t find Wil’s intensity enticing or that he made me realize that I wasn’t asexual. Nah- I think it’s because the thought of beating the living shit out of him sound like so much fun!

“Is skank the new black?” An eruption of giggles draws my attention from the boys. “Hillbrook is letting in trash now that we’re accepting scholarship kids.
” That comment puts me to ease, because I’ve never accepted any charity. They can’t possibly be talking about me.

“
That’s
not a scholarship kid.
It’s
that Simpson freak’s daughter. Faith’s trash alright- the worst kind.” Okay, definitely talking about me.

I
’ve learned some things after growing up around hotheads. I’ve learned even more from the short time I’ve spent with Wil. But Fate taught me the most. It annoys the hell out of your tormentor when they don’t get a rise out of you. If it were between me and the Barbies, the criminal’s kid would get into trouble with the Dean.

“How’s it feel to know that your tuition was paid by my family’s hard earned money,” skank number one hisses.
I remember her from last year. Who could forget Flora Rubins and her posse of hissing bitches? I was blind freshman year; I never saw how they dressed. They make me look like a toddler. I think that little bit of brown peeking at me from her blouse is part of her nipple. Good Catholic girls. 

“Oh, I don’t know… It doesn’t feel too bad, considering what your family did to earn that money. They make my daddy look like a saint. There is something pure about stealing from the rich- but stealing from the poor… now that’s a whole
other level of evil.”

I
quietly giggle while they attack me as a group. A cat fight erupts around me and I don’t fight back. It’s the first time I don’t engage. I know I could take them all. My mind calculated the whole thing in under a second.

Flora slaps me
and it barely stings. Her two friends ride my body to the ground. Their hands pinwheel slaps, softly hitting me every few flails. They fight like total girls. I’d love to head-butt these skinny bitches, but I grit my teeth and take it.

My target was watching in interest
as I was taken to the floor. I don’t know how Cortez will react, but Ezra reminds me of the chivalrous type. I’m going to sit back and let them beat the hell out of me- what does Jesus say, turn the other cheek? It will be a good cover for my previous bruises when I remove my smutty makeup. What kind of people gang up and beat a defenseless child, especially when she curls up in a ball and doesn’t fight back? Bad people, that’s who.

I grin and silently giggle as they beat the shit out of me. A slap to my nose has blood pooling in my mouth. Now that stings like a sonofabitch. I bite ba
ck my nature to kick their teeth in. If I were to unleash that side of me, I doubt they’d leave here breathing. I wasn’t fooling when I told Wil I’d be better at the pain-dealing. I’m not the seductive sort, but I am the fist-wielding sort. I’m sneaky, not sexy.

My ponytail is yanked, wrenching a high-pitched wail from my throat. Goddamn neck! I’ll kill Wil for this, even if it’s the last thing I do. There I go again, taking the Lord’s name in vain. I cover my face with my palms as those wicked bitches try to gouge my eyes out with their perfectly manicured talons.
My hands are ribboned with scratches. Past experience taught me that a scratch hurts ten times worse than a punch to the gut. It’ll take weeks for those wounds to heal.

Fate warned what would be
waiting for me when I walked in the front doors of Hillbrook. I just didn’t think she was being literal when she said I wouldn’t get twenty feet inside the front doors. This is why she takes Regina everywhere she goes- protection. Daddy screwed ninety percent of their families out of money. The elite are real peculiar when it comes to
their
money. I’m here because I will not lie down and die. I didn’t steal their money, and it wasn’t
their
money in the first place. Just because your parents have money doesn’t mean you do. Until you earn it, it’s not really yours, now is it? They ain’t running me off from where I have a right to be.

Jes
u- gosh this hurts like hell. Aches and pains radiate around my body. The screams and shouts blend into a symphony of noise. Hands are tearing the girls off of me, but whenever they lose their hold, they’re right back on me again. I breathe a deep sigh when the last of the girls is pulled from my body.

“Knock it off,” a deep voice warns. I recognize it as Boyd’s, a
quiet senior who was nice to me last year. “Flora, don’t make me slap you again,” he menacingly warns.

“Are you alright?” I look up into a pair of stormy gray eyes that would make Wil flinch. Ezra could kill someone with that
penetrating stare.

“Yeah
, thanks,” I mumble as he draws me to my feet. Ezra’s large hand encircles my upper arm, stabilizing me on my shaky legs. I look around the crowd. Cortez is trying to hold a thrashing Flora in his arms. The backs of his hands are clawed up. That bitch needs to be
declawed. Boyd is defensively standing between Flora and me. Another kid is standing by Flora’s friends. Kami and Trisha stare at the floor, red palm prints blooming on their cheeks. I look back to Flora and she has a huge red welt on her cheek. Someone did some manhandling of their own. Why the hell would Boyd hit them for me?