Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (85 page)

If Stanton had his way, I’d never go to work. He frets when I pick up a laundry basket. He doesn’t let me have any stress, like a violent movie- no. Stanton will flick it off and put on something stupid. I spend my time with my feet up and a constant supply of nutritious food set before me. Stanton is the vitamin-Nazi
. He’s also on the anti-caffeine campaign… and the sleep eight to ten hours regimen… and the no more than walking exercise program… and the make my brain bleed lifestyle.

Stanton doesn’t always get his way… he can’
t stop me from going to work-
riiinnnnggg… riiinnnnggg
… or from performing my duties as the Game Master.

“Syn,” I bark into my phone, irritated that my peace was interrupted.

Faith
, the phone unsurely whispers in my ear.

“Yes, Anthony,” I guess- I’d recognize that accent anywhere- it’s part New York/New Jersey, part Italian. I only know of one guy with that accent who has this number. If this was Stanton’s private line… yeah, a lot of those accents call Stanton.

I need your help, please
, whispers faintly.

“What’s up- it’s like two-three a.m. where you are… and why are you whispering?”

Pierre is harming my child
, Anthony cries.
I can’t take it anymore.
If I kill the bastard will I be executed?

“Dalton? Oh, good Lord, I thought Pierre liked
little girls?”

He’s having Jon do it
, Anthony whimpers.
Tonight was the first time. He makes me do bad shit to my son and I can’t find a way around it. If I kill him, it stops
.

“Honestly, Anthony, I can’t help you… and I am so fucking sorry,” I cry, really cry. My baby is eighteen weeks and still in my belly. I thought I knew what love was- I was wrong. I wasn’t ready for a child. I didn’t want a child with Ezra. But it doesn’t matter now- I want
this
child… and I’d kill anything that harmed him or her. 

I drag in a deep, fortifying breath. “Pierre is within his rights to do whatever he pleases. I can’t intervene on familial business. It’s the price we pay for intermingling all the families in the game, and that’s what Pierre counted on.
I want to help you, and I wish I could.”

Faith, what can I do then?
I can’t watch this. He… Pierre and Olivia sat on my couch while I was at my desk… Jon came in and… he… Jon raped my son
, Anthony sobs.
He raped my son and kept laughing about it, saying that Dalton is gay so he probably enjoyed it.

I close my eyes and think, think harder than ever before- there has to be a go-around. “You have two options, because your idea is an automatic death sentence at my hand… and I don’t feel like killing you, Anthony- I like you in a strange way. So you can call the authorities on the molesting, rapist bastards, but they will kill you anyway. You could hire it out, but if they die, everyone will know it was at your hand. My suggestion- and it’s the only one that you have- have your wife kill her father or have your son do it. I don’t advocate an eleven-year-old murdering his relatives… but who am I to judge. I killed my grandfather three months ago, and I sleep better at night for it.”

I’ve begged Olivia to do just that, but she doesn’t want to be The Fontaine… she fears Jon. The rules
make it impossible to harm an enforcer. You can kill your elder, but you can’t kill your enforcer.

“If Olivia were to kill Pierre and become The Fontaine, she could order Jon to behave, and when he didn’t, she could kill his ass. She’s being a coward,” I growl. “I don’t expect everyone to be able to kill their parents. But I bet that man abused her, too. There is probably some kind of creepy bond there or something. Try to keep Dalton safe. Pierre and Jon can’t kill the boy, not that that isn’t comforting. Within the rules the
y can mentally and emotionally torture the kid. So whisper in Dalton’s ear, and see if he has the balls to kill them.”

I’m never alone with my son- I know they fear what you just said
, Anthony says- no longer whispering or crying. His voice is stronger.

“If you poke an injured animal enough, they will bite back. Mark my words; they will regret torturing your son to get to you and Olivia. What about Devlin? What does he think?”

Dev is obedient, even though it’s eating at him. That man would have no issue killing his father. Too bad there isn’t a rule in place where an enforcer can off his patriarch and matriarch.

“I’ll see what I can do on that front- doubt it would pass a vote,” I murmur. The stairwell door banging into its housing draws me up. I look over my shoulder and see Wil stalking towards me- I don’t like the look on his face.

“Gotta go, Anthony,” I quickly say. “Keep me posted, and I’ll think of something. I hate that a little boy is being abused, but it’s even worse that it’s my future brother-in-law.”

Thank you, Faith
, he says before the line goes dead.

“What are you doing here? I always meet you at the station,” my voice cracks in confusion.

Wil stands before me, towering over me, and scowls. “What’s going on with Anthony?”

“You don’t want to know,” I mumble.

“Yes, I do,” he says, staring me down in challenge. “Tell me,” his voice is tight with an emotion, but I don’t know which one.

“Trust me, Wil, you don’t,” I sigh heavily. “What’s up?”

“Tell me,” he demands, the veins in his arms cording as he clenches his fists.

“I warned you,” I say, shaking my head. “We don’t talk about it, but we both know what happe
ned that made you sexually messed up.” I sigh again, not wanting to rip into Wil’s mental wounds. “Anthony called because he needed help. About an hour ago, Jon raped Dalton in front of the boy’s parents, at Pierre’s behest.”

Wil strides away from me, towards the outer wall, and looks to the ground below. I don’t get up and comfort him- he’s not going to jump. He just needs time to sort through his emotions. After a very long and quiet five minutes, he walks back to me, completely controlled and calm again.

“We need to get to work, or we will be late,” I say, struggling a bit to stand up. Wil’s hand yanks me to my feet, a smile playing along his stern lips.

My belly isn’t too big yet, but I’m not big either. The budding baby
bump would be swallowed on a normal-sized person, but it looks huge on my small frame. I’m still agile, mostly, with the exception of the lawn chairs on the roof. They are too low to the ground.

“Five more months of having to piss every time I stand up- oh, the joys of pregnancy,” I sarcastically say. “Anything for the kid, though, right?”

“Anything,” Wil promises. But not to me- he promises the growing person in my belly. His voice is serious, but his expression soft is with affection.

“You confuse me,” I growl- hating how one word or a look or a touch from this impossible man makes my brain turn mushy.

“Not surprising, since I often confuse myself, too,” Wil teases, but he quickly sobers. “We’re not going to work- at least not at the station. I already called in. We have a leave of absence until we’re finished.”

“Finish with what?” I interrupt, hating that he takes forever to get to the point.

“I’m in need of my partner- we’re going hunting,” an anticipatory light shines from Wil’s pale gaze. “Gwen demanded it, as did Pearl-”

“Why wasn’t I notified that something big is going down?” I growl, pregnancy hormones fueling my ability to go from calm to murderous rage in less than a second- opposed to the two seconds it usually takes.

“I am notifying you- right now,” Wil bites out, sick of me interrupting him. “I was with Gwen when Pearl called in a panic. We’re hunting The Hunter,” Wil slurs, sounding high or drunk- drunk on the danger of the thrill of the hunt.

“Why are we hunting Ray,” I roll my eyes. “You’re always tracking that lunatic down.”

“Because,” Wil hisses, smirking at me… and it’s not a pleasant smirk- part malice, part evil. “Another lunatic was snatched from his bed… Ezra was taken, and Cortez has lost his shit!”

~Chapter Seventy-Four~

“Oh, God, kill me now,” I cry as I crawl back into the car seat after retching on the side of the road. After living in a city for the past two and half years, I’m not used to driving long distances. I was never carsick before, but mixed with morning sickness… it’s a real bitch.

After getting off the interstate, the roads in Pennsylvania are a pregnant girl’s worse nightmare- up and down, up and up and up, and swiftly down. It’s just like West Virginia, but not as steep- just as many trees, though. For the first time in my life, I’m happy that I moved from the hills of West Virginia to the city life of New York.

“Are you okay?” Wil plays nursemaid, handing me a napkin and a bottle of water.

“No,” I grumble. “Do I look alright?” I snap. His infuriating laughter is the only
reply I get. “Don’t ever stop at that disgusting shithole again. That pizza was… just thinking about it makes me nauseous. This is the Pennsylvania,
New York
border,” I stress New York. “How do they fuck up New York Style pizza?”

“The city twelve miles from here has good pizza, and it’s in New York. I know the lay of the land,” Wil say
s with great amusement. “I’ve been to this area hundreds of times in the last four years. Mitchell didn’t care about anything else. I stalked Ray constantly. But Gwen, she would rather I worked. So I’ve had a reprieve.”

“Key word,
had
,” I snidely say. My attitude has been awful these past few days. My hand seeks my swelling stomach as tears prick my eyes- I promise for the billionth time that I will bring my child’s father home.

“Greta liked the pizza there the one time I brought her
up here. She wanted to go there every day. Sorry, but the options are limited- convenience stores and diners. Our motel only serves dinner and pub food.”

“I like
Subway
. I’ll eat that for three meals a day. Complex carbs, proteins, minimal fats, and lots of veg. Just go there, that’s perfect.” I try to sound nice, but only manage calm. You know it’s bad when you even think you’re being a bitch.

“
I’ll go get us some subs. Do you want to go back to the lodge and eat?” Wil is careful around me, fearing me like you fear a snake readying to strike. He’s not mad at me, for some reason he finds my bitchiness amusing… which makes me bitchier.

“I liked it when you let me sit on the boat dock. Can we eat on the other side of the lake?”

“You sure about that?” he says like I’m crazy. “You just threw up on a flat stretch of road that is only three miles long. Now you want me to drive around the lake so you can sit on a bobbing dock and
eat
?”

“Point. Made,” I growl.

“We’ve been over every inch of this land. How about I drive us down to the trail head across from our lodge- there is a spot right next to the water. We can sit on a blanket and eat.”

“That sounds very nice, thank you, Wil,” I genuinely say. He’s placated me constantly, tried to keep me even and calm, and tried to distract me from all this stressful shit.

We pinpointed Ezra’s abduction to be around two in the morning. By the time Cortez woke almost five hours later, Ez was long gone- Ray had a five hour head-start on us. It took a few minutes to calm Cort down enough to get him to speak- he was… I never want to see him unhinged like that again. The thought of losing Ezra is killing Cort. When I saw him, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that if Ez didn’t return, Cort wasn’t going to live through the loss.

Wil, thinking Ray would do what he always did, drove us to Pennsylvania. Ray
always gravitates to this location- Upstate New York, central Pennsylvania border. It’s called the Twin Tiers. It has deep lakes known as the Finger Lakes with wineries peppered on the landscape. But Raymond settled in a beautiful area slightly to the south that overlooks a lake. There is camping, hiking, and boating… and not much else. Ray lives in a motel called the Lodge.

We arrived in the area twelve hours after Ezra’s
disappearance. The first thing we did was break into Ray’s room to search through his stuff. It was obvious that he hadn’t been here for a few days. We stalked all the usual haunts that Ray frequented, and asked all the locals if they’d seen Raymond Hunter. They all said the same thing,
about a week ago
.

We’
ve walked the miles of trails surrounding the lake. Wil said it was to see if Raymond had set up camp, even though that was impossible. The stretch of land that houses the trail, campground, and recreation areas is very narrow. It is a strip that is a railroad bed, between the road that circles the lake and the lake itself. No one could seek isolation out here. Too many people are around. It’s the height of tourist season, no less.

Wil was trying to be tactful, but I’m not… I said,
we’re looking for Ezra’s body, aren’t we?
Wil’s wince said it all.

Six days we’ve hunted. I learned one thing, hunting is never easy… and it takes a lot of patience. We’ve expanded our search to the surrounding areas. We spent days driving around hotel and motel parking lots looking for Ray’s van. We used a directory to locate all the bed and breakfasts,
too. Even though they wouldn’t be private enough, we had to look. Ray would need a motel, nothing more.