Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (12 page)

“As
k the impound lot,” I calmly say while my heart beats like a trapped hummingbird. I sit in my designated chair and fold my hands on the tabletop, just like a good girl. I ignore Wil. I ignore the fact that he’s in pajama pants and a white t-shirt that sticks to his muscles. His hair-fuzz is damp, water-drips streak down his forehead and cheeks. This is relaxed, fresh from the shower Wil. Scary-assed, break your neck Wil is on vacay until sleeping beauty evacuates the room. I pray to God that Gretchen sits here with us until it’s time for me to leave. I only took his name in vain twice today- a record. May he grant me this request and I will try even harder tomorrow…

“What do you mean?” Wil walks over to the stove, eyes roving over the pan and spatula. I put the fixings away, instinctually knowing that Wil would have a shit-fit if he saw stuff left out.

“That’s what they do when they seize your belongings. Bank accounts are frozen first, next goes the cars. Last week they searched the house, for cash I suspect. Today they took any jewelry of Lara’s that was bought in the last few years. We’re only in the house because they can’t kick us out with a minor on premises.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.

And it isn’
t a big deal to me. I never used any of that stuff. Lara doesn’t deserve it anyway. Fate took everything of her own when she moved to Whittenhower Estates. A few days ago, she took a lot of my stuff, just in case. Yesterday, I kissed her for it. I’ve spent almost as much time at Whittenhower Estates as I have at ShadowHaven. I avoid the empty house and Lara at all costs.

“How long has the car been gone?” Interrogation-mode Wil is activated. I have no idea where he is leading with this.
His eerie pale eyes latch onto my face. I try not to scrunch my nose or bite my lip. I believe those were the nervous ticks he pointed out. I don’t like him reading my emotions.

Step one: blend in with quiet, grammarly correct words.
If all else fails, zip your lips.

Step two: Learn all of my tells, so that no one can read my emotions.
I want to be able to use them at will, confuse people.

Step three: be like Boyd
- a ghost.

“The bank accounts were frozen the day Dadd- my father was taken into custody. An hour later, the garage was emptied of cars. They confiscated the boat at the marina and all the recreational vehicles. So…
since day one, I guess,” I answer how long the cars have been gone.

I wasn’t even here when they did it. Aunt Amelia just knew
, or maybe she was getting me out of West Virginia before she was taken into custody. She must have known they were coming for her next. I showed up at the house just as the last of the cars were loaded onto the hauler. 

“How did you get here tonight?” Wil asks while making himself some sandwiches. “Did you eat yet?”

“I walked- I had pizza after school,” I slowly say, hoping like hell that I said it correctly. I even used a light voice, like the one Fate speaks with. Mustn’t hurt Wil’s precious ears.

“You wal
ked? Why didn’t you tell me?” Wil accuses.

“That wasn’t an option, remember?” My eyes dart
to Gretchen, hoping like hell that she’s paying attention to her homework. Nope, Gretchen’s secretively smiling again as she looks between her brother and me. I hope she doesn’t get any ideas. I can’t say why Wil wouldn’t let me tell him that I walked or why I was three minutes late last time, especially in front of his sister. I don’t think he wants Gretchen to know he’s a woman beater. But Wil is very perceptive. He just nods that he gets it.

Wil sees explanations as excuses. A responsible woman would have been on time, no exception.
I made sure I was responsible this evening. Any other person would expect acknowledgement for it. Nah-uh, I know better than to expect anything like that from Wil. I have the feeling praise is only spoken from his lips for Gretchen’s benefit, no others.

“How do y
ou get around?” I flinch when Wil flips one of the sandwiches and it makes a plop noise. My heart is hammering in my chest and my breath is sawing between my clenched teeth. I’m trying to look unaffected by his intense presence. Even relaxed in his nightclothes, he is imposing and frightening.

“I
walk or someone gives me a lift.” I can’t tell him that Faith walked to school until she became buddies with Cort and Ez. Now she rides around in their cars. Daily, they fight over whose car gets driven and who’s driving. Oh, to have their problems. A few times as I was walking to Whittenhower Estates, Boyd just materialized out of thin air and picked me up.

Fate,
which I am pretending to be around Wil, has a car that Regina gave her. It’s Regina’s car, but they go everywhere together or Albert drives them. Sometimes Albert drives me, too. One of the places I couldn’t ask for a lift was to Wil’s apartment. Of course, I can’t tell Wil any of this.

“You walked here last time? And walked home?” Wil stares me down with his creepy eyes and I cower in my chair.

“Yeah… wasn’t the best place for a small, white girl in rich clothes. Had a few close calls, but they backed off after I made them taste their balls. Wearing a private school uniform was worse this time. They learned right quick.”

Wil’s eyes widen in surprise, and I can tell he’s fighting a laugh.

“What kind of guy makes his girlfriend walk?” Gretchen hisses at her brother. Glad she’s looking at him, because I don’t know what my face looks like. I roll my tongue back in, snap my mouth shut, and blink a few times to make sure my eyes are still in my head.

Did
Gretchen say
girlfriend
?

“I didn’t know her car was
taken in as evidence,” Wil calmly replies to his sister. He glides over to the table with two plates in his hands. I blink in surprise when a grilled cheese sandwich is placed before me. Wil pushes a sandwich off his plate onto Gretchen’s, and he still has three of his own.

“How long did it take
to walk here?” he demands.

“Two hours,” I mumble, staring
down at the sandwich, not sure why he gave me one. Probably because a real boyfriend wouldn’t eat without making sure his sister and girlfriend had eaten first. I see Wil nod his head in my periphery. “Each way,” I truthfully add.

Wil’s emotions slam into me like a tsunami. It sucks the air from my lungs and makes my heart sluggish. I watch
Gretchen chew her sandwich. How can she not feel that?

I gingerly lift half a sandwich with a shaky hand and take an experimental bite. As soon as I swallow, the suffocating emotions dissipate.

“Eat up,” Wil commands. “We can talk as I drive you home.”

The thought of small, confined spaces wit
h Wil has that tiny bite rising in my throat. Wil is so intense that he makes me want to piss my pants. Scarier yet, he’s being nice. I think I’d rather have him hit me. The night’s still young…

“Okay,” I mutter.

Wil stuffs an entire sandwich in his mouth and stalks off to the other side of the apartment. I slide my sandwich onto Gretchen’s plate; it wasn’t meant for me anyway. I stand and stare at my feet.

“He’s grumpy because his meeting didn’t go as planned. We were in Pennsylvania for an entire week. This guy was supposed to show
. He’d never show, and every day he’d make a new appointment. Wil hates lateness.” Ya think? I still have the bruises to prove that. “Hunter was my dad’s partner. He’s supposed to be Wil’s now.”

“Did he show?”
I ask to cover the shock of hearing that name, the name Ezra used for his father.

“Yeah,
Hunter finally arrived this afternoon. Wil was pissed. I’ve never seen him so angry.” My eyebrows rise at that. He was beating the shit out of me and never broke a sweat. How angry was angry? “They spoke for five minutes, and then we drove the five hour drive back to the city. A week for five minutes- I was pissed enough for the both of us. It took that entire ride for Wil to stop growling underneath his breath.”

“In other words, avoid him on the ride home,” I snidely say, regretting the words instantly.

“No,” Gretchen emphatically denies, shaking her head. “Wil would never hurt a girl.” Oh, really? “Besides, he likes you. You’ll calm him down. He mentioned you a few times. I think he missed you.”

Missed me, or wondered if I was behaving? Calm him, or incite him?

“Ready?” Wil doesn’t ask me, it’s a command. The hand on the small of my back, pushing me towards the door, takes the choice out of it. “I’ll be home within an hour. Finish up your homework and get ready for bed. No school for you tomorrow. It’d make no sense to go in on a Friday.”

“Okay,”
Gretchen chirps, pleased to have three more days to make up what she missed all week. “Want me to clean up the kitchen?”

“Nah, I’ll clean up
when I get back,” Wil softly murmurs. “You go ahead and get some rest.”

“You haven’t seen your girlfriend in at least a week, you never kissed her,” her voice is filled with suspicion.

Wil’s fingers tighten on the back of my shirt, anchoring me. “Now, that’s personal. You shouldn’t see that,” Wil chastises his sister. But his voice dips low, and doesn’t sound very reprimanding.

“Fate’s your first girlfriend, and you’re dropping the ball. First, you make her walk. Second, you never even greeted her. I didn’t say for you to makeout,”
Gretchen grumbles. “But put some effort into it. You’re taking her for granted.”

I sniff the air for smoke. Did my skin just catch fire? I’m pretty sure the surface of the Earth just o
pened up and hellfire spewed forth. Nah, it’s just Satan’s hand at the small of my back.

“I just can’t help myself around Fate,” Wil counters, and I snort from how ridiculous that sounded.

Can’t help the urge to murder me in multiple ways
I whisper under my breath. Wil’s creepy eyes dart to the side and I know he heard that.

“I missed you, P
ixy,” Wil says with an edge. Edge of what? Amusement? Vindictiveness? Maybe punishment.

Wil
’s fuckin’ with me. Who knew he could smile and joke around?

“I missed you
, too,” I choke out, not able to play the game as well as Wil.

“Ah
hh,” I gasp. Wil’s skin is hot and moist against my pursed lips- exactly how the Devil’s would feel. He gently presses a kiss to my lips, and I relax into it. I gasp again when he lightly swabs my bottom lip with his tongue, tasting me. Wil goes from controlled machine to a seventeen-year-old boy in a split-second.

Wil
might hate me, but he likes kissing me more.

My
fingers find their way around Wil’s waist and bite into the muscles low on his back. Warm skin greets my fingertips, muscles flexing and quivering beneath their touch. Hesitantly, our lips slide against one another’s, a soft caress that has my spine tingling with surprise. Every touch enlivens me.

Wi
l’s not a huge guy compared to most, but he’s still eight or nine inches taller than me. Wil presses his body against mine and bends his neck to reach me as our kiss continues- lengthens. I groan when his fingers massage the small of my back, softening aching muscles. The groan has my lips parting, allowing Wil’s tongue to touch mine. Such a small taste intoxicates me, excites me, electrifies me, terrifies me, and awakening that unrelenting ache between my thighs. My body does that strange clench again, like a fist is tightening around my womb.

I’m left cold, quivering in shock, and standing on shaky knees.
My emotions scatter like dandelion puffs in the wind. I have no idea what I feel, or maybe I don’t want to admit it.

Wil is several feet away from me, looking ill. He’s actually breathing hard and his cheeks are pink. It’s weird seeing color on his emotionless face.

“I guess you did miss her,” Gretchen giggles, hazel eyes bright with surprise and anticipation.

“Um… You… ah…” Wil stutters. “You didn’t see that,” he growls at
Gretchen. “You’re too young to see that.” Wil yanks his shirt down in the front. If I hadn’t been around Cort this evening, I wouldn’t know what that meant. Our kiss excited Wil, and that pisses him off. He wants to hate me, not be horned up by me.

I’m stunned stupid, heart pummeling my chest from the inside. I hate Wil. He’s my extortionist. He forc
es me to do things I wouldn’t normally do. He scares the shit out of me. But… fuck… if that dangerous edge didn’t make it all the hotter.

What is wrong with me?

My body has lost its ever loving mind!

“Car,” Wil
growls the command, voice cracking under the strain of his raging hormones. “Say goodnight to Gretchen.”

I mumble something incoherent, having n
o clue what I just said.

That was my first kiss. Wil was my first kiss. Not a real good start to my sexcapades.