KING (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (42 page)

“What of his eyes?”

“I’ve never seen him outside of his duty. I’m sure that he keeps them covered. But when he comes to you like a phantom in the night, all you see are his eyes. They are ice cold, so pale they look white. If you see them, you know death is upon your door.”

“What was Jon’s last name so I can find a link to this man?”
I desperately ask, needing any kind of lead to follow. I feel Marc’s frustration bleeding out into me as I interrogate Bianca. I would have killed her if she didn’t speak.

“I don’t know it. My enforcer is Jon’s grandson. He has us call him by his nickname. I know it’s not his real name because I’ve asked and he is always brutally honest.”

“What’s his nickname?”

“His name is Wil,” Bianca’s voice warbles in fear. She doesn’t need to go on, because I already know what she’s going to say.

I whisper, “Wil with one L.”

~Epilogue~
Christmas Night
Narrated by Ezra Zeitler

Events that occur twenty-four hours after the comp
letion of
KING
&
Faithless
& hours before the end
The Hunter
. Events that happen an hour before the start of
Silenced
. I apologize in advance if the reader finds the epilogue confusing. Bear in mind, it’s narrated by a man who isn’t quite sane. This passage will allow the reader to understand the events that take place within
KING, Faithless, The Hunter, & Silenced
.

A wide expanse of loneliness stretches
before me, behind me, and beside me. Utter blackness, the void of absolute solitude.

Forever alone, even with my nearest and dearest, but never alone inside my own mind.

My mind is an abomination. I’ve done things I will forever regret without the ability to stop myself from repeating the act. Those who know
me, truly know me, hide in fear. Those who love me, will never know the real Ez- the abomination that was created in the woods of rural Pennsylvania. If I were honest with myself, I’ve always been this way.

R
estraint is loud within my ears, the din of grunts of pain, moans of pleasure, and stifled screams of agony. If anything, it makes the loneliness far worse, for I have never had a playmate within these walls. Restraint was a means to an end, and not really ever wanted. I needed the club to drown out the evil within me and use it to capture my prey- prey that finds other company more rewarding. On bad days, I revel in my creation. On good days… well, I’ve done heinous things on those days. Traitorous acts to remove Restraint from my grasp. Damn my loved ones for protecting something I was trying to be rid of. Damn them all to hell.

No one can possibly
understand the pressure in my mind, the sensation of having two very dominant beings fighting for control. Agony. Imagine hating and loving the same thing at any given moment. Wanting, craving, needing, but abhorring it to the point of illness. I must satisfy all the parts of the whole. Mustn’t anger one part while sucking up to the next. A knife’s edge I walk as I find the delicate balance of sanity.

Quiet,
are the days we get along, the days we are one. Horrid, are the days when Master Ez is in control. Evil, are the days when the wounded Ezra throws himself. I try… try with all my might to solidify us. When I can’t, I pray that Master Ez is driving me, because Ezra… Ezra, he does bad things when his feelings are hurt.

All’s good this evening. We are one, as we have been for months. The last act Ezra perpetrated nearly had me slitting my own throat. Master Ez took over to protect me from myself. The only way Ezra lives is by behaving. Master Ez and Ezra have been good boys since last May. But nights like tonight have the wounded, evil boy trying to resurface. Master Ez allows the good to surface, but
his emotionless demeanor cancels out the evil thoughts.

Faith…
Syn stares at us from the shadows, always lurking a step behind. We love and respect her, as we always have. Ezra misses her beyond measure. Master Ez is proud of her. I’m sad that she knows the real me. Faith… Syn is not the girl I once knew, as I am not the best friend she once had. At one time we were both innocent, before rape and murder ruled our daily lives. She isn’t afraid of me. She merely watches for our mutual protection, waiting to be the one to take me out. Last May… they all almost took me out, including my own. They surrounded me and made me promise I’d be good, but not too good… Rules, they said. You must follow the rules, they said. I’ll try, I said out of self-preservation.

I ache… I crave… I hunger… I am not sated. Ezra is not sated. Master Ez is
unerringly content. I want what I want and cannot have. Ezra wants the man who sits in Misery Castle, the man I fear knows. Master Ez doesn’t feel, so it’s a moot point.

My thread is unraveling. My life
is imploding. I, the sum of my parts, want my husband and wife all to myself- those bronze cousins need to leave my spouses alone. Master Ez wants to get that for me, but he knows Ezra would kill us to protect Marcus and Dexter. Ezra just wants Cortez and a taste of those gorgeous boys. Master Ez, well, Katya is
his
wife.

I hunger because I go without.
It’s been months since I felt the touch of my loved ones- All Hollow’s Eve. I was still in control that night, helping out a friend. But Ezra was close to the surface, throwing an epic shit-fit, and Master Ez was in agreement with him. It’s a bad thing, when they agree. Stick it to your father, they said. Teach him a lesson, they said. I listened, and learned the lesson. My father beat me and froze me out. Only Marcus’ need to have his children together at Hanukkah had him reaching out to me. My spouses were disgusted with me, neither talking to me still.

Cortez
sullenly sits at home with our children. Who knew that he was the paternal sort? He rivals Marcus in that department. I have to pry my son from his arms just to bond with the child. He knows. I’m not being paranoid. He knows. This is why he tortures me so. I can’t fix it. I didn’t mean to do it, and I can’t control it.

The sight before me creates a discombobulating sensation in my mind. They, we, us, are simultaneously happy and pissed.
Master Ez is elated, violence and sex always turns him on. We agree that Katya is Master Ez and Cortez’s wife. Katya is happy, so Master Ez is… not angry. Ezra is disgusted because he and our wife do not get along. He sees her as competition for Cort’s affections, and he’s hurt for us that she seeks another male’s attentions. Who would leave Cort at home to play with Dexter? Katya, apparently. Ezra doesn’t understand it, nor do I. Master Ez does, though, so we don’t fight about it... I’m… all I feel is loneliness as I watch my wife with another man. A better man. Dexter is a solidified man. I do agree with Ezra, why not Cort?

No lying there, all three of us love that snarky bastard within an inch of our life.
Even as he falls for Marcus, we don’t blame him. For Cortez is Ezra’s world, Master Ez’s best friend, and our mutual soul mate. I’m so fucking lonely…

It’s
nights like tonight that I want to end it all. Cort and Marc would never allow harm to fall upon my children. Katya would no longer be confused. My evil wouldn’t spread like a disease among us all.

Two things, just t
wo things to right the wrongs: my death or my confession. I need to scream to the world that I am not Dr. Ezra Zeitler… I am… I am the… no, even to myself I cannot admit the name.

I am
The Holden
.

Cortez, he is my enemy
because of this game. How could he not know? He must. Then there is our mutual secret, I’ve always felt he pushed me away because of it. No one else gives a shit, I surely don’t. Why should he?

Is it love or is it superiority? I gaze out over
my dungeon and think to myself,
dance, monkey, dance.
I plot and scheme. If I make them do
A
, what would be the true outcome? Freewill only goes so deep when you hold all the leashes. If I flex my will, who could I force to do my bidding? A gentle twist of the ropes binding my puppets, and I’d be entertained for the night-loneliness forgotten. They will bite the hands that feed them. They will turn on their own. How do I know? I make them do it every day. They will bleed for me if I so bid it.

Not Syn, she looks at me knowingly, waiting in the shadows to save me from myself. She looks worri
ed this evening, as if she can sense the precarious edge I rest upon.

As I watch my wife learn how to please a masochist, my heart is heavy. I understand needs more so than anyone on this planet, but why can’t I be enough for anyone? I have never placed that content expression on her face. I fea
r, or maybe Ezra fears, that Katya couldn’t love the real us. Master Ez doesn’t believe in love, so he’s not afraid. I fear that the past has tainted my future.

If I can’t love, can I be loved
in return?

That’s not entirely true. One part of me is incapable, one part loves too much, combined we are… not normal, but almost. I know I love Cortez
- all parts of me love him. I know I feel a fondness for my children, beyond the scope of responsibility. Master Ez is feral when it comes to our children. Ezra… his childishness sees them as competition. I am… I am fond of Katya. She brings the closest thing to love out of Master Ez. Ezra, well, he resents her and blames her for our past. I love Marcus- we all do, even though Ezra likes to hurt our father because his feelings are rubbed raw. Our friends, we’d protect them to the death.

Tonight, an integrated night or not, is not a good night.

“Find your center,” Faith demands. I would lash out at anyone else, but she is one of a handful that knows all my secrets. “It’s not here, Ez.”

“I have nowhere else to go,” I softly murmur. “You promise Cort doesn’t know,” I hopefully plead, even though I know she lies.
Childlike, evil Ezra believes the lies, because only one person matters to him. However, I am not naïve.

“Trust me,” her soft voice flows as a soothing balm over my injured psyche
, a glimpse of the twang I helped her alleviate bleeds through since she actually spoke. “I know him better than I know you.”

“True,” I muse. “And why would you lie?” When her small shoulders relax in relief, I add, “Well, except to ensure that I don’t go postal. You’d lie to save me from myself. I can feel it, Faith. He knows. How could he not?”

“Do us all a favor and just tell him the truth,” she pleads. “You’d… you’d be better if you told him.”

“See, you admit that he knows,” I shamefully murmur.

“I admit nothing. I don’t speak in circles like you do,” she angrily hisses- Syn erupts as if Faith, too, has dissociative identity disorder. She doesn’t. Faith just hides behind her badass. Faith
is
a badass. Too bad she’s not on my team, we could rule the world. The only reason
The Meyers
still breathes is Faith… and Wil… he isn’t a badass, he’s death incarnate. Those three are the only reason I behave. Even Master Ez is afraid of them.

“You want me gone… What play in going down tonight?” I hold her steady gaze. She and her partner are the only ones who I can look in the eye and not read. Faith ha
s perfected the ability to project emotions at you, emotions she isn’t feeling. I wonder how she and Wil don’t kill one another on a nightly basis.

“Go,” she commands. “You either go peacefully or I’ll call him over.”

I turn and gaze at Wil. How interesting it is to see them all in action. How they make their plays against me. Maneuver into positions to block me. Arrogant bastards. My mind is three, I am no singular man. Wil, hiding out as one of our guards, is amusing in the extreme. The lengths the families enact to protect themselves from me. The majority of the guards are their enforcers. It’s a compliment, actually- to be that feared.

All fear the insane Holden.

Pity we have rules; I’d love to go head-to-head with that white-eyed bastard. The slight smirk on Wil’s lips says he wants that, too. Fifteen years we’ve had to put up with Wil, longer if we account for the two years prior that he spent forging our Faith into Syn. Reality of it is, he has our Faith, and we don’t like that much.

“Is it your mother? Is she going against
me this eve, or one of your fellow bastards, perhaps? At least offer me that small boon.”

“No,
The Whittenhower
is making a play,” Syn says without emotion. I jump as if a defibulator electrified my chest.

“Oh, really?”
I say with great amusement. “That is interesting. He is turning out to be a good ally for your mother, is he not? He surprises me. If he weren’t so afraid of me, I’d ask him to join me. But… it’s more fun to be one against six,” I arrogantly hum, hiding the fact that it will soon be two against five, perhaps, three against four.