The Hunter (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (27 page)

Cortez Abernathy: Present
-Chapter Thirty-Five-

Meetings bore me to death. Actually, death would be more entertaining. Maybe Madame Game Master could murder someone for our sick and twisted pleasure. C’mon
, we’re all serial rapists, child molesters, or murderers, after all. Would it be too much to ask for some excitement? This new order is too civilized- boring. How about some music- Vivaldi or Tchaikovsky would be nicely gothic and scary while Faith threateningly stares me down. 

I gaze
at the side of Wil’s face just to annoy him. But it never works. Wil is so engrossed at whatever his wife is droning on about that he never blinks. If I were standing where Wil is, I’d at least braid Gwen’s beautiful blonde hair. She’d probably let me. At the end of each meeting, Gwen would have perfect cornrows.

Only once did I find a means of distraction, and it lasted for the time it took Faith to stalk over to me, steal my cell phone, smash it on the center of her desk, and then beat it
to a pulp with her gavel. Either Faith doesn’t like me much, or she really hates modern technology.

I can’t believe Faith makes the enforcers stand for hours on end. I’m not a real enforcer like Roarke and Aaron. I have no idea how to stand around and watch my Elder. I’m sure you have to build up a tolerance or some shit. The one I’m actually sworn to protect, I would, but his mother won’t let me around him. See, Faith hates me.

Tempting fate, or Faith, or actually, Fate… I finally look at the boy. I haven’t since we met. It hurts way too much on so many levels. When I first started standing behind Zane, he was stiff, scared, and it really bothered me. I’ve never thought anything bad about Zane. His mom, Dad, and Daddy Wil are another thing.

Tonight I find Zane relaxed, leaning back in his chair- a hairsbreadth from my fingertips as they rest on the wooden finial of his mini-throne.
I pretend it’s for distraction, but it’s a compulsion, really. My fingertip flicks out and touches Zane’s shoulder. The boy flinches. Just before I pull my finger back, Zane relaxes. Over the course of the next few minutes, I’m lost in a daze as my hand creeps up until it firmly cups the top of Zane’s shoulder.

Awed, eyes wide, I see nothing, hear nothing. My sense of touch is as sensitive as a livewire.
Pulse lodged somewhere in my throat, I breathlessly pant, amazed that I’m touching Ezra’s son. Zane has always been an enigma, but I felt like I knew him because he looks and acts so much like Ezra.

Faith eyes me, waiting for her son to scream
Stranger Danger!
When Faith’s eyes land on my hand on Zane’s shoulder, her words falter and her violet eyes bulge in shock. I do know that Zane doesn’t accept touch very often. I just don’t know why.

Wil isn’t so subtle. He leans over me, over Zane, and stares at my hand like I’m molesting the boy. I nearly piss my pants when Wil’s lips twist into a smile and he rights himself to silently stand behind Gwen again.

The rest of the meeting goes by in a blur. I hear the arguing, the shouts of outrage, and the gameplays judged, but nothing computes. All I know is Zane’s warm, yet curiously bony, shoulder beneath my palm and Ezra’s gaze heating my eyelids. I stand with my eyes staring sightlessly forward, registering nothing.

“Would you like to talk?” Zane’s smooth voice is the only thing that gets through the fog.

I blink, realizing that Gwen is in hostess-mode, serving her family and friends. The meeting had ended, and Zane was content to sit here while I rested my hand on his shoulder. Feeling like a creepy old man copping a feel on an impressionable child, I slowly retract my hand, and then walk around the grouping of chairs to sit in Gwen’s seat.

“Very much so,” I murmur as I sit. “You sound just like your father when he was your age.

“My mom says that, too,” Zane quietly replies, just looking at me, waiting.

I look back at the boy since no one is smacking me with a gavel or ripping my nutsack from my body. Zane looks more like Ezra than Ezra had looked like Ezra at this age. It’
s surreal. Face too sculpted for a boy of almost fifteen, his nose a perfect forty-five degree angle, his jawline a sharp edge. Wealth and intelligence bleed from Ezra and his first born, Ava too- aristocratic arrogance. Ethereal. Angelic. Enthralling.

“I’m just going to blurt this out. Usually I have a way with words, unless it’s important. I basically have a way with useless words,” I self-deprecatingly mutter.

I roll my eyes up, jerking in shock to see Zane looking at me, not through me like everyone else does. With endless patience, Zane stares at me with eyes that are identical to my own- a mirror. Zane sees me, clearly sees me.

“I was never mad at you,” I quickly say before I can stop myself. “I never hated you.”

“I know,” Zane immediately replies. “I figured that out rather quickly.” He has a strange way of speaking, slow, deep, detached.

“How?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Zane’s patient gaze.

“I… I feel emotions. I know it sounds crazy. I’m an empath. I can feel you inside my head right now.”

“God,” I mumble in wonder. “That must suck with Faith being your mom. She’s so…”

“Bitchy?” Zane supplies, smirking.

“I was going to say
overemotional, but if the shoe fits… that bun in her oven is probably driving you batshit.” I remember how insane Katya became when she was pregnant with the twins. We’d just moved back to ShadowHaven from Edge, and Marcus wanted to move into our old apartment to get away from the pregnancy hormone madness. It’s like it trickled down to Ava, Diane, and the visiting Pearl and Divina. It was estrogen hell.

“Yes,” is all Zane says.

I blink. “I was angry with your dad and mom, never you,” I quickly blurt.

“I know,” Zane
says. Either Zane was blessed with one helluva self-confidence or he can really feel what I feel- scary thought.

“Your dad and I used to do everything toget
her. I was upset that he kept you from me. I wanted to share in your life,” I honestly admit, getting choked up. “I allowed my hurt feelings to cloud me. I should have just tried to accept you in any way Faith and Ezra allowed. But I’m too proud… and cowardly.”

“I could feel your remorse when you looked at me,” Zane softly says. “Sometimes you’d get so bright in my head, like a supernova. I watched you, learned you. You got like that when you looked at Dad. I didn’t give a shit about anything else aft
er that. I sit in my grandma’s heir seat instead of Dad’s for a reason. It’s very warm over here. You block them out with your goodness,” Zane admits.

“I… I…” I stumble over my words like an idiot. My mouth is agape in shock.

“People don’t understand. No one does. My mom doesn’t even get it. She thinks I won’t touch her because I don’t like it, so she cuddles with Tori instead. Dad kind of gets it, but not really. It’s not that I don’t like touch. I’m starved for it. I’m lonely. Touch intensifies the empathy. If it’s a bad person, it hurts, stings. Mom’s emotions are like a rainbow, dizzying, and Dad’s emotions are usually pure chaos. I like sitting by you. You’re even. Nice. Your touch was like bathwater. Nice.”

“Oh God,” I utter. “That’s gonna suck for you with the girls.”

Zane smiles brightly, showing perfect white teeth. “I’m not looking forward to that,” he murmurs, blushing a pretty pink. “I hear my sister isn’t going to be easy to be around,” Zane says knowingly. I’m sure Tori has filled Zane in on the emotional signature of everyone. “I prefer even keeled people to happy and enthusiastic or depressed and sullen. My papas are even, mostly,” Zane stresses Marc’s recent crazy spurt. “Daddy- Wil, he’s even. I let him hug me.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, shaking my head
back and forth in awe. “I… wow.”

“
It’s exhausting. That’s why I like to be alone. But empathy has its benefits. No one can lie to me,” Zane arrogantly says, pointing at his temple. “They can try… but I’ll know, and I’ll never trust them again,” he warns me.

“I need you when I’m talking to your father,” I say with a laugh, but I’m half serious. Ezra is a lying douchebag.

“Dad doesn’t lie about the important things with you. I like coming to meetings because he’s just as warm in my mind as you are- if you’re around, Dad is even- always.” Zane unflinchingly meets my eyes, trying to tell me something I pretend not to understand. Rolling his eyes like a rude teenager, Zane says, “Dad needs you, as you know.”

“I… I don’t know,” I pretty much whine. “We have some stuff going on with your siblings’ mother.”

Zane stares at me, and I swear I can feel him inside my head, rooting around in there, picking and choosing what is interesting. I slowly blink to remove the creepy tickling in my mind. I breathe a sigh of relief when Zane’s attentions move to the man whose gaze is boring into my back.

Coming to some sort of conclusion, Zane confidently says, “Dad’s confused, but not about you. He likes looking at you.”

“Are you happy?” I rapidly blurt out to change the uncomfortable subject. I will never talk about the private affairs of their other parents with my children, and Zane qualifies as my kid, whether he thinks so or not. “Have you had a good life? I’d worried. I wanted to be a part of it, but…”

Zane doesn’t answer right away. He looks at his hands while he scrapes one nail over another, making a
scratch, scratch
sound. “I wanted to know you, too. I’d… watch you guys, feeling left out. But… I wouldn’t change my home life. I like having Papa in the house with us. Ma and Daddy are happy. We have a baby coming. I was lonely, but Tori living with us helped. Next door is Grammy Amelia, and on the other side of us is Binks and Caleb. I miss that you guys aren’t at Edge anymore. I saw Dad a lot more,” Zane cryptically says.

When I
give Zane a
huh?
look, knowing Ezra still visits nightly and has been spending afternoons and evenings with Zane while Faith and Wil are on duty. Zane evilly chuckles just like Ezra does. I can’t help but smile even though I know I’m the brunt of some private joke.

“What I want to change is… I want to be a big brother to my sister and the twins… and I think you’re the man to go to for that.”

I snort, hearing Katya snidely calling me
Mommy
. But it’s true. Genetics or not, we all pretty much know I’m the one doing most of the parenting. And that’s exactly how I want it to be. Katya and Ezra are career driven. While I love writing, I can work around my family’s lives, and this part of our arrangement works well for all of us.

“You came to the right man for that,” I murmur, trying not to laugh at my own private joke-
Mr. Mom
. Who would have guessed that from irresponsible Cortez?

Cortez Abernathy
: Present
-Chapter Thirty-Six-

“Quit looking at me like I’m going to go poof,” Ezra whispers into my ear while rubbing my shoulders. “I’m going nowhere,” he reassures.

“Since I’m trying for honesty, I’m feeling a bit insecure at the moment,” I mumble, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth.

A few minutes ago, Torian said something about fresh, Grandma-made sugar cookies, and the boys ran off in search of treats. My inner-fatty wanted to run after them and eat until I was numb. Just because I’ve chronologically aged doesn’t mean I’m any older in my mind. Sometimes I feel like a little boy, and I want my mommy.

Fresh cookies would help.

“
You have no reason to feel insecure,” Ezra murmurs, leaning down to nip my lip with
his
teeth. “Stop mutilating yourself. Only I’m allowed to bite you.” Arms sliding from my shoulders, down my back and wrapping around my waist, Ezra curls over me as I sit in Gwen’s chair.

“Bite me,” I tease, rolling my eyes at how cheesy that sounds. Ezra’s stormy eyes take on a glint of wickedness a second before his mouth descends. I prepare for the painful sting of a bite, but what I get is the
tenderest kiss of my life.

Ezra kisses me in front of every member of the game- he possesses me- takes ownership. My fingertips dig into his forearms, never wanting to let him go, but so afraid that I’ll lose him
forever if I don’t.

“What was that for?” I mumble against Ezra’s lips. I rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes in contentment.

“For my son. I… I knew how much you wanted to know Zane. I tried to talk about Zane a lot so you wouldn’t feel left out. But I knew it would be too much to hope for that you’d want him in your life… after everything that happened with…”

“Everything,” I finish Ezra’s sentence. “It’s the
past. What you do from every day after is what is important. It’s the past for a reason, don’t repeat it.”

“And I’m doing my best, I’m trying,” Ezra vows, and for most people that wouldn’t be good enough. But I know how difficult it is for Ezra to be honest, real, and open. “Thank you for treating Zane well, and wanting him in your life.” Ezra rubs his cheek against mine, and it’s wet from his emotions.

“I… I want it to be just you and me tonight,” I whisper. “I miss home. Will you be able to push away your OCD for a few hours, and check on everyone in the morning? I promise the world will not implode if you alter your routine for just one night.”

“What do you have in mind?” I can hear the amusement in Ezra’s voice, but I don’t dare look into his eyes. After meeting Zane for what I consider the very first time, I feel raw- exposed.

“I want to go home. I want to run in our woods. Sleep in our tent. I… I don’t need… sex,” I breathe. “I just want to hold you all night in our special place. Only Faith has been there, and I’m okay with that. It’s taint-free- innocent. I miss us- I miss how we were, and I want to recapture it. I… just miss you, Ez,” my voice breaks, I can’t help it.

I know Ezra is wondering if I’m manipulating him. He knows Katya and I are
silently struggling with what’s to come. Ezra is waiting for one of us to grow a pair and talk to him. I can feel Ezra’s stare as he tries to figure out if I’m playing him to win- manipulating him- or simply professing my needs.

Everyone is in Gwen’s living room- the meeting room. All eyes and ears are on us. “Ask Zane if I’m lying or manipulating you, Ezra.”

“I don’t need to,” Ezra says, sounding hurt. “I. Trust. You. I’ve just never trusted myself. You’re my constant.”

“I just want to go home,” I whimper, nearly crying. “Bad memories are there. But the only memories of my mother are locked up in ShadowHaven. I want my kids to grow up where my mom raised us.”

“I’m so fucking sorry that I’m a vindictive Fucktwit and I made us lose our home. So sorry,” Ezra cries, protectively curling around me. We’re making a display in the middle of a meeting- our enemies scenting blood. But in a way, it’s good. They will see us as weak, not interfering with the upcoming yearly meeting after Christmas. We aren’t interfering. We’re waiting with baited breath just as they are.

“If we get it back, all will be forgiven,” I mumble, pulling away from Ezra. “I ne
ed to talk to the bloodthirsty woman about something… and then we’ll leave, if that’s okay with you.” I sound unsure, uneasy.

I’m not sure if Ezra can let go of his compulsive need to check up on everyone for the evening. Just once, I
need
to come first. It’s not selfish. We know everyone is safe, well-fed, sleeping, and happy. Standing over them like a psychopath doesn’t do a damned thing. I just need Ezra all to myself- just for one night.

Christmas is only a few days away…
a lot is happening on the morning after Christmas at the stroke of midnight. I’m going to tell Ezra what I really want, and I just may lose him forever when I do.

“Just one night,”
I breathe into Ezra’s ear, and then I stand up and walk away.

“Faith,” I mumble, not sure if she’ll spit on me or grab my nutsack in her tiny, angry fist. In Faith’s defense, I did
spit
on her once.

I s
tare at my feet, waiting for Faith to finish up her conversation with Boyd about something financial and game-ish. I’m sure they are ruining someone’s portfolio this evening. The Simpson blood doesn’t flow red with anger or blue with old world lineage, it flows green with money they’ve pilfered from the rest of us. I bite my tongue against calling them both
house stealing bitches
.

“Cort?” Faith coldly barks. She’s still angry at me. She’s always been angry at me.

“I didn’t steal your sister’s virginity,” pours from my lips for some reason. “Fate wasn’t a virgin.”

“What?” Faith gasps in shock.

“May I speak with you… semi-privately,” I mumble, worried Faith will kill me in private. But then I remember the petite sadist kills in public, too. “Um…” I look around for a savior. “Wil, too. Please,” I say sweetly, deploying my charming smile.

Faith dramatically rolls her eyes at me, yanking me from the room and into the gold-gilded foyer. Tacky. Wil ambles behind like a dutiful dog. Somehow Faith called him. Probably telepathically since she made a kid that’s an empath. It wouldn’t surprise me. I always knew Faith was different.

“So talk,” Faith impatiently growls, glaring at me. She really is intimidating. But once you’ve seen someone snot all over themselves while crying, grunt like a wild animal while orgasming, and get an SUV stuck in the woods while learning to drive, you no longer see the assassin clothing and demeanor… all you see is the girl you love- the girl you miss.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole. I’ve never apologized, but you didn’t, either,” I obstinately hiss. “And before you say,
Cort, I have nothing to apologize for
… bullshit! What hurts me, is that neither of you trusted me. Not just about Zane. Long before that. I could have helped with the game that I was going to be sucked into no matter what. I could have been prepared for when Ray showed up in the middle of the night and took me and Aaron. I could have been prepared for… for what I had to do to survive,” I choke out.

I cover my face in my hands, hating that I’m crying. Shuddering, I try to slow my breathing and get control of my emotions. A hand lands on my shoulder, and it’s not Faith’s. Wil slowly squeezes my shoulder, calming me. Wil really is even all the time, in a serial killer sort of way. The guy has been creepily nice to me- always. I’
ve seen Wil lurking around me my entire life, never knowing why. Now I know, and it’s still creepy.

“That was
on me,” Wil softly says. “Not that Pixy ever listened to a damned thing I said.” Wil sounds amused, pleased that his wife is a brat. “I knew what was coming for me. I didn’t get a childhood. I wanted you to have one, to not have to look over your shoulder every waking moment. It was better to not know what was coming and get to live freely while you still could. Trust me, nothing would have prepared you.”

“You don’t know what I did. I’ve never told anyone but Marc,” I grumble.

“I cleaned up after Ray for years. I know how he operates… and I found
them
,” Wil stresses. “I found Ray’s
leftovers
when I went back to clean up the mess before the FBI found out too much.”

“I didn’t want to,” I sob- shivering so fiercely that I have to wr
ap my arms around myself or I may break apart.

“I know,” Wil says, and I can tell he really does.

Faith looks between her husband and me, trying to figure out what’s going on, what we’re cryptically talking about. I never want Faith to know, and not just for my pride’s sake. The feminist wouldn’t ever touch her husband again if she knew he cleaned up Ray’s dead rape victims.

“I just wanted to apologize is all… and ask if I could see Zane. Not for me, even though I’d really like to. I know that Zane will meet Ava very soon,” I stress that I remember our Christmas meeting, and the why of it. “The twins need Zane and he needs them. Baby Ez is even named after his big bro,” I warmly say, finally smiling through the tears.

“Really?” Faith mutters, confused. “I thought Baby Ez was an Ezra Junior, or Ezra the second, or something equally pompous.”

Faith always has to be bitchy…

“We just call him Baby Ez ‘cuz he’s the spitting image of his father. His name is Marcus Zane Zeitler. I didn’t know if he’d get to know Zane, so I wanted him to always have a part of his big brother… but maybe… if you allow… I could bring the twins to Zane. In public, of course.”

“I…” Faith stumbles over her words. I feel a denial coming
on so I keep trying to convince her.

“
I know Marcus meets Zane and Torian after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays for a meal. I’d like to have Mondays and Wednesdays, if that’s okay. We could just go to the park with the twins, or if it’s too cold, we could sit down and have a burger,” I ramble, nervousness quivering in my voice.

“Yes, that would be very nice,” Wil says, squeezing my shoulder one last time before his arm drops away. “Don’t you think?” he coaxes Faith, who looks confused and off kilter.

“Okay,” Faith mumbles, and for some reason, tears are glistening in her eyes. Not knowing if she’s upset with me or not, I reach out for her and tug her into a hug.

Ezra always picked women with personalities close to mine. Realizing Katya feels just like I do, maybe Faith does, too. I’m defensive, abrasive, mean and nasty to Faith because I hurt so much. Maybe Faith hurts, too. Maybe she loves and misses me as much as I love and miss her.

When my manhood isn’t torn from my body, my arms fold around the tiny woman and hold tight. While Faith screams or glares at you, she looks larger than life. While wrapped in my arms, she feels fragile, breakable.

“I’m sorry,”
I mumble into the top of Faith’s head, marveling over the fact that I haven’t held her in over fifteen years but it still feels like yesterday. How six months of constant companionship feels like a lifetime of connection, yet a few betrayals tore it all to fuck. My arms remember holding her. My body remembers protectively curling around her. My ears remember loving the way I made her giggle. My eyes remember her smiling just for me.

“I’m sorry,
Chickadee,” I repeat, and this time it comes out broken because I’m weeping. Faith never apologizes back. But that’s okay, because I didn’t apologize just to get Faith to give in. I did it for me, for Zane, for our mutual peace within the families.

I hold on to Faith, and her arms finally slide around my waist, her fingertips twisting in the fabric of my shirt. Her tummy nudges my hip, causing me to break out in blissful laughter.

“Congratulations,” I sing. “I’m really happy for you both- truly,” I say as I look up to Wil with tear-glazed eyes. “What are you having? Do you know?” My hand slides down to cup Faith’s belly, and when she doesn’t knee me in the balls, I slowly rub in a circle.

“We’re having a girl,”
Wil says with a goofy grin on his face that mirrors mine.

I deeply laugh, I can’t help it. “Oh, poor Zane, all those sisters to protect from the likes of boys like Torian…”