Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (99 page)

Silence meets my decision, and it pleases me. A gentler game is on the horizon with the death of the last original Elder. I open the floor to voting on major plays. A major play is contingent on how
many families it affects. The elders, heirs, and enforcers play their own game as long as it doesn’t affect more than two families at a time or doesn’t have long lasting effects, such as children or marriages. We all have lives, careers, families, and children. We don’t have time to vote on every single play made. For the most part, the game has been less brutal as of late, with only Ez fucking the initiates every chance he gets. The more distant Cortez becomes, the worse Ez behaves. While still integrated, it’s like Ezra is gaining a foothold and behaving like a spoiled child.

The game has moved from life and death to a more mischievous playing field. Boyd has a wicked sense of humor, and he enjoys messing with the other players’ livelihoods. Stanton, I would dub the protector. He runs interference. Grant has been silenced, but Adelaide has had fun counteracting Ezra’s moves, as a way of sticking it to him for their long and drawn out engagement. My mother and Fate teamed up and they use Kris to wreak havoc on the male population. Si
nce my mom isn’t utilizing her enforcers, my life has been smoother. Pierre was brutal, and I have no idea how Olivia will play. The thorn in my side is Ez. He plays like a lunatic. No family is safe from him, especially his own. He enjoys taunting his mother, adoptive father, and Cortez. He has even been playing Regina because he found out Marcus has his sights set on her. It didn’t help that Cort has been carrying some strange crush on my friend. Like a jealous asshole, Ezra has been zeroing in on Regina.

Basically, the game would be fun if someone would put a leash on Ez. No one gets hurt- it’s all grin and bear it circumstances. We have plenty of money to lose. The push to form unions is usually sound and well matched. Gwen and Fate are actually cute as t
hey use Kris to taunt the male enforcers. It’s Ez, and none of us have the power to stop his temper tantrums.

I can’t interfere in the game- I have to be unbiased. I want to hint that they families need to gang up on Ezra, but he has nothing to lose. My son would be targeted, and I cannot have that. He is already screwing Cortez over anyway, so that won’t work. Distraction is something I can do, and that is why I finally gave Ez her name. Katya Waters will distract Ez from the path of disaster he is cutting through the game like a tornado through a trailer park.

~Chapter Eighty-Eight~

“Everyone plays nice
ly,” my mother softly says, placing coffee and cookies on the kitchen island between our warring factions. She leaves the room to continue entertaining her ‘guests’. The majority of the game players stick around for a few hours to razz one another. Tonight is different. Olivia and her retinue are determining if it’s safe to go home. Shockingly, Bianca told us earlier that she wanted to go back, too. Las Vegas is the mecca for dancers.

When I left the living room, Stanton was in full out lecture-mode, and Gwen quickly followed me before she interjected. My mother does ha
ve a voice, a rather strong one. But she fears speaking her mind. After years of forced subjugation, she wants her youngest child to follow her dreams. But no one in their right mind would interrupt Stanton’s tangent… I would. But I have other things to take care of first. I’m allowing Stanton to tire out his tongue from bitching before I tell Bianca to go back with Olivia.

I sip my coffee and eat three or four cookies while my brother watches me with an amused expression on his face. Boyd’s amused because Gretchen is furious. Anyone that pisses off his wife is his new BFF. Wil, being overly affectionate, and by overly, I mean any affection, rubs my back while we sit at the kitchen island. It’s a brother/sister standoff over Torian’s best interests.

“Torian’s ours until you get your shit together,” I announce around a bite of gingersnap. “If you don’t get this sorted out by the end of the school year, I’m enrolling him with Zane.”

“And you think you’re such a better mother than I am,” Gretchen nastily hisses. “Your kid is a freak of nature.”

Wil’s hand on my back stills. He’s no longer rubbing but holding me into place. Gretchen is the only idiot dumb enough to test my patience. But I’d made a promise to Wil a very long time ago to protect her, and I will keep it. It’s an everyday occurrence when I want to smash my sister-in-law’s face in with my fists or a brick or a car. It’s why I no longer interfere when Boyd punches her nasty mouth. Yes, it’s wrong to hit a woman. But what kind of man would Boyd be if he allowed his wife to cut his testicles off and shove them up his ass. Gretchen emasculates my brother every minute of every day. She hits him, and screams at him, and uses Torian as a weapon. Boyd snaps and hits her, and then she feels vindicated. She always goes to Wil, crying and snotting on herself. I just say to her,
you asked for it. What did you expect?
Truthfully, I wouldn’t punch the bitch, I’d divorce her ass.

Ignoring her comment, I say, “You both are grownups, it’s time you acted like it. Torian comes to us because he can’t stand being with you guys. Gretchen, you asked what makes me a better parent. It’s not that I’m better; it’s that my home life is. Our home is filled with respect, trust, privacy,
structure, and boundaries. You have failed on every count. You pit your son against his father. You hit his father in front of him, and then when Boyd hits back, you call him a wife beater. You make me sick,” I spit. “You both make me sick. Neither of you are victims- you are perpetrators.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re a murderous whore shacking up with my brother- making him raise someone else’s castoffs. I’m a wife, mother, and a professional woman- a te
acher. We have a nice home in the suburbs. We don’t live in the city with criminals surrounding us. For Lord’s sake, you have a crime boss in your home and an ex-con next door,” Gretchen turns her nose up at me and haughtily sniffs the air, like I stink.

I laugh, full out laugh- a heart
y sound from deep in my chest. “I’m not asking your permission, I’m just taking your kid. If you want him back, you’ll behave.”

“You’re such a cunt,” Gretchen hisses. “You can’t keep him from me.” She looks unsure about that. It’s not like she can call the authorities, and within the game, I am the authority.

“Girl, you need a beating from a real combatant. You need your measure taken. I want to hear more about this fictitious fantasy life you are leading. Please regale us with tales of your imagination. What do you do after work? Hmm? Homework, make dinner, read with your son or watch television until bed? No, you bitch at your husband and hit him in front of Torian. Your son goes to school exhausted because he can’t concentrate on his homework or sleep while you fight. You have someone else cook and clean up after your fat ass… and it is a fat ass. The only energy you expend is to hit my brother. You disrespect us all when you do that. If I ever see you put a hand on him again, I’m punching your face and you won’t be getting back up when I’m done. You guys are toxic for one another.”

“Are you going to let her talk to me like that,” ironically, Gretchen asks Wil, not her husband, as if Boyd and I are on the same team and Wil is on hers. It was Boyd and Wil from birth. The girl needs her head examined if she thinks we come first- ever.

“Actually, if you weren’t my sister, I would have beaten you to death long ago. You need counseling, together and separately. I think of Boyd as a saint. If you don’t want to be married, then get a divorce. This is ridiculous. You’re not a kid anymore. You’re right. You are a mother, wife, and teacher. Start mothering your son, being a wife to your husband, and teaching your students. You are also an enforcer and you don’t do jack-shit in the game, either. I make your family’s plays, taking time from my own life with the family I’ve built. Don’t ever say another bad word against my son. You’re my sister, but I have another brother and sister, too. Whether we are married or not, Faith is where my life is. It’s not my problem that you don’t see Boyd and Torian as your life. I’ve given you all my attention and you don’t deserve it. Neither of you do,” Wil growls at Boyd.

“I agree with you both,” Boyd says, looking like a little boy, all innocent thanks to Gwen’s good looks.

“I blame you as much as Gretchen,” I say to my brother. “You should have left her and taken you son. Torian should come first. There is no discussion. I’m telling you that Torian will be with us until you straighten out your shit. When you do, you can have him back. If you continue to spiral out of control, it’s proof of how shitty you are as human beings. Your son should always come first.”

“Faith,” Gretchen purrs, a nasty smirk twisting her lips. “Really, why are you with my brother? He cheats on you. He can’t commit. Do you even share a bedroom? I know for a fact he can’t stand fucking you, he’s told me so. Get a clue. You look desperate, hon. Wil is never going to marry you,” she says in a
n uber-helpful tone laced with scorn and jealousy. I could get angry for everything she said if I didn’t already know my relationship with Wil wasn’t conventional and tenuous at best. But I can sense sabotage a mile away.

“Greta,” Wil shouts, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him. I won’t let him ruin his relationship with his sister over me. She’s testing him- it’s something I would have done when I was a teenager.

“I’m not angry,” I quietly say. “I know that Wil and I aren’t perfect. We have a lot of issues that we’re working on. I know he doesn’t love me like you would a wife or the mother of your children-”

“Pixy,” Wil groans. “That-”

“Let me finish,” I quickly say. “You are correct, Gretchen, you have the life I long to have. But the difference is that you didn’t earn it so you don’t appreciate it. You are stuck in that fourteen year old girl mentality. You haven’t grown up. You’re jealous of me because you should be your big brother’s world. You have a husband and a son, they should be your world and you theirs. But you sabotage it. Similar to how you are sabotaging our relationship by testing your brother. He’s an adult and he gets to pick what he wants to do in life. If you want us to treat you as an adult, then act like one. But I won’t allow you to ruin my nephew while you figure it out. You have a husband who loves you. I don’t have that. He is also the father of your child. I don’t have that, either. I get to be a bastard creator, and I’m not proud of that for me or my son. But you taint your marriage as surely as Boyd does.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gretchen hisses, going on the defensive instead of listening- just like a child would. Zane is more mature than Gretchen.

“Wil and I may not be married. Wil may seek out other people because I can’t satisfy his needs. But there is no secret there. I haven’t been with anyone but him since I was seventeen. But here you are, yanking your husband’s chain, saying you’re going to find a real man to fuck, and you say this in front of your son. Do you know what Wil and I have that you don’t, even if we are just shacking up in sin?”

“STDs?” Gretchen nastily sneers.

I lean forward, over the top of the kitchen island, and get into my sister-in-law’s face. “Respect,” I slowly enunciate. “Get some- especially in the form of self-respect.”

I slide from my stool
, leaving a stunned Gretchen staring at me with wide hazel eyes. I leave the room because there is no sense in talking to someone like her. She is self-deluded. I know something Stanton doesn’t: lecturing a person who isn’t listening, is just a waste of your time that you could be spending with people that matter.

“Greta, don’t ever speak to her that way again, and you don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about. You’re just being a spiteful bitch because you’re being called out on your bad behavior,” Wil’s voice fades as I leave the kitchen.

I’m done with their drama. They can keep eating each other alive- sucking their souls dry. But I just wanted my nephew to be safe, and I accomplished that. Speaking of nephew, I see him sneaking around the dining room, making a hasty escape after eavesdropping.

“Tori,” I call out, and his feet freeze in place. “Zane,” I call again, knowing the shadow is seeking the shadows. He is my son, after all. A thin figure breaks from the darkness along the wall and appears next to his cousin. “C’mon, you’re not in trouble. I’d expect nothing less than spying. Let’s go see what they’ve decided about Bianca.”

Torian’s shoulders relax. He was scared he was in trouble. A woman that hits a grown man will also hit a growing man. I know right then and there that Gretchen has struck her son. Never in my wildest imaginings would I lay a harmful hand on Zane. I punish my son by limiting what he enjoys. I’m his mother, not his jailer. It’s my job to raise him to be a productive and happy adult, not wound him for life.

I slide my arm around Torian’s shoulders
, offering him comfort. He and I are the same height. He won’t be much bigger than me when he’s full-grown. My son pats my arm, his version of a hug. Now, Zane, he is going to be very tall. Even at ten he is taller than Torian and me. The three of us walk into the living room and join those who are lingering from the meeting. Stanton is still lecturing Bianca, with Amelia chiming in. My aunt has been with us for the past nine years. She has just as much right to tell Stanton to shut up as the rest of us do.

Torian breaks away from me to meet the elusive Grant Whittenhower that winked at me when we walked into the room. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t say anything stupid,” Zane says as he joins his cousin.