The Hunter (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (18 page)

“Listen, I just see you as my sister. You are my sister.” One more lap around the fire. Who? Aaron’s out, he’d see Divina as a sister, too. “What do you like in a guy? Lanky, burly, nerdy, model-worthy? Um… how about a guy who is your age, nice.
He’s quiet and calm and manly- tall and built like a brick shithouse. He’s not a womanizer like me. He’d treat you right.”

“Are you pimping me out?” Divina scowls.

“No, I promise.” I silently add,
I’m protecting our asses- I mean assets
.

Only one person left that I’
d trust with my wife. He’s someone who understands the game. I may be The Hunter, the enforcer for The Meyers, and a worthless Abernathy, but my fortune is all Holden. The Holden assets are the responsibility of The Holden and his enforcers. Aaron is our brother, no matter what.

What’s more worth protecting than the Holden Princess?

“You’ve met Roarke Walden, right?” I turn on the coaxing, manipulating charm like a facet, and work my wife like I’ve never worked another.

Cortez Abernathy
: Present
-Chapter Eighteen-

“Oh, Ella,” I moan, “You’ve outdid yourself this time. These pancakes are to die for.” We’re all accounted for and surrounding the Whittenhower breakfast table.
It’s nice now that the others have returned to their homes when the fear of another media-storm wave ended. Too bad they didn’t know they were moving into the very house with their enemy- too bad I learned a long time ago to keep my mouth shut on matters of Ezra Zeitler betrayals. I’d just get blamed somehow anyway. I always do.

While I wish I was home, it’s nice just having our core group here. My family from ShadowHaven, minus Aaron and Kayla since they moved back to Edge, and the Whittenhowers, minus Whitt, because he is getting on with his life. It almost feels warm, cozy, family-like.

Miss Whittenhower’s cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink from my praise. I love making the girls feel good about themselves, and I can tell that Ella is self-conscious around the other girls. It’s how I felt growing up around Ezra. It’s how I still feel around other men, even though I work out like a bastard to keep the weight off. I still eat constantly and sit on my ass, hence the gym. Regina notices Ella’s body issues, but no one else does. I feel for the girl, being surrounded by the rich and talented, and not being here since birth, it could give you a complex.

“You always feed us so well,” I murmur, digging into a big pile of scrambled eggs that the girl even put bell pepper and cheese into.
Ella, and sometimes Fate, cooks breakfast for all of us. They say they love doing it… and I love eating it.

“Missy
, ya want some more bacon,” I coo to the pup sitting at attention on my lap as I place a tiny piece of bacon into her soft mouth. I flick a glare in Niel’s direction and mouth
Puppy Hog
. Mast begged to sit with me today, but his selfish owner wouldn’t let anyone touch
his
puppy. Whitney is easy to charm into letting her Missy go. But the second Whitney gives the okay, Niel usually swoops in and takes the cuddle bug. I was faster than Niel this morning. He’s been off his game all week.
Spoiled, selfish, indulged brat
, I mouth across the table. I’m going to buy my own puppy.

“Pot, black, on that one, sir,”
Niel snarkily replies, taunting me by nuzzling Mast’s ear with his nose.

“But I really shared with you
, now didn’t I,” my eyes flick to my sullen daughter. “Not my fault you betrayed her. Least you could do is share the Frenchie.”

My lips spread into a wide grin when my offensive player makes his move. “Ni-el,” Baby Ez’s tiny voice calls. “Ni-el!” A pink chubby hand makes a grab for Mast, fingers curling around the puppy’s leg. “Mast,
my
pup-py.” Niel’s face softens as he grins down at my son, and then he places Mast on the floor for Ez to play with. No one can deny Baby Ez, no one. Plus, for some reason, Niel has been spending a strange amount of time with my twins, and asking a lot of questions… and I’ve heard a rumor that shocked the hell out of me.

I wink at the poor fuck. I can’t say I know how Niel feels, but fighting over a puppy is the least o
f his concerns. I should buy Niel some parenting books. I’ve debated on writing one. After The Hunter is completed maybe I will.
What to Expect When You’ve Knocked Up a Teenaged Member of Your Household.
The final line would be,
an ass kicking from momma
. Regina is going to
kill
Niel for this.

“Hello, castle residents,” a smarmy voice calls, and I start chuckling. Every female face under the age of twenty turns like sunflowers to th
e Sun. Spyder, Whitney, Ella, Ava, and Prissy turn with brilliant smiles and glazed-over eyes to Torian Spencer. Short, but not slight, with mocha skin and hazel eyes, he looks like a mixture of Faith and Boyd with his mother’s coloring. It’s wild. I like the kid because he reminds me of me- little charming bastard. Plus, Torian really knows what he wants, and he’s on the hunt. Which is exactly why Ezra is positively snarling in his seat next to me. I reach over and squeeze Ezra’s thigh to calm him.

“Tori,” Spy purrs. “Are you ready for the test in economics?”

“Eh, I was ready last year,” Torian scoffs, already a financial genius thanks to his genetics, same with the oozing of charm. Fate gets up from her seat, pretending to pick up a few plates, and on her way by the kid, she rubs his back. Torian’s face turns soft. It must be difficult to pretend your aunt isn’t trying to greet you.

“Whenever my ladies are ready, the chariot awaits,” Torian drawls.

“No,” Niel hisses as he stands from his chair. A quick hand scoops the puppy up from around the middle, then plops it into my lap. I’m the resident babysitter, children and puppies, since I don’t leave for an office. I cuddle the pair of pups into my lap, watching the show. It’s great inspiration for my upcoming writing session.

“Dude,” Torian drawls, and I have to close my eyes because I’d swear Faith was standing before me. The kid has picked up a bit of her West Virginian accent thanks to being around Faith’s Aunt Amelia. But when Torian says words that Faith uses, and in the same tone and cadence, it makes me miss her all the more.

“No,” Niel firmly says again, possessive of all things Whittenhower, and apparently Zeitler now because Marc is going to be his stepdad. Niel’s hands seek the nearest girls, fingertips gently wrapping around Spyder and Whitney’s wrists, he pulls them from their seats and behind him. Good choice. If I were Torian, I’d be hunting the oldest girls, too. “They’re riding to school with me today.

“Since when am I the enemy?” Torian feigns innocence, causing Ezra to bellow a laugh.

“I’ve got to get to work. You coming, Kitty Kat?” Ezra reaches over and tucks a strand of fiery red hair behind Katya’s ear. I pretend the affectionate touch doesn’t kill a part of me. Ezra and Katya do the doting parent thing. Which in Ezra’s case is truth. Which in Katya’s case is false, with the exception of Ava. Postpartum depression and something else entirely has caused Kat not to bond with the twins.

I receive a cold brush of lips to my cheek from my wife. Katya has been pissed at me since she found out Ezra and I are doing well. I thought she’d be happy to see us touching and laughing. I thought it was what she wanted. I’d thought wrong. Katya is more detached than ever.

Ezra’s eyes dart to our wife, psycho-analyzing her, I’m sure. After he makes the twins squeal,
no more, Daddy, that tickles
, he pats the pups on the head for good measure. Ez has been really, really happy lately, and emotionally and mentally even. It’s a breath of fresh air.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Ezra seductively murmurs into my ear, bending down over me as I sit at the breakfast table. “Your desk or mine?” His hands squeeze my shoulders, pulsing with each word.

“I have the kids… so mine. I’ll put them down for a nap.” I mumble back, rolling my eyes up to meet Ezra’s lust-filled stare. The corners of my lips twitch up, and a second later, a full-blown flirtatious smile breaks out across my face. My cock punches a hole through my pants, begging to get to our man. “You get the desk this time.”

“With pleasure,” Ezra growls. Expecting our usual goodbye kiss, I tip my head back, offering
my lips to my husband. Except Ezra doesn’t give me a quick goodbye. It’s not open-mouthed but it’s pretty damned near close to it. The kiss leaves me panting, breathless. “I love you,” is whispered against my lips, brushing a sweet goodbye before Ezra draws back.

“Love you, too,” I mumble, blushing.

“You have to teach me,” Torian begs, eyes swinging between Ezra and me. “How? How do you do that?”

“No,” Niel’s vocabulary turns singular negative
when Torian is around the girls. But I know for a fact the minute there are no females around, the boys are good buddies.

“Yes, that was… I want to learn how to be like that,” Torian whines, yet again, sounding just like Faith.

“You can’t learn it. It’s not charm. They’re in love, dumbass. Lovers always look all googly-eyed when they touch…. Let’s get to school,” Niel turns caveman and orders his flock to stand up and leave. He flicks his eyes at Torian on his way by, flipping the boy off and tauntingly smirking. You can hear the
MINE
flowing on the breeze.

“Tori can ride with us,” Ava eagerly offers to stick it to her unfaithful
ex-boyfriend. “He can sit next to me,” she happily sings. I get a quick kiss to the cheek before my daughter skips forward and takes Torian’s hand, dragging him to the foyer. The Hillbrook students file out with Ezra and Katya bringing up the rear, not holding hands.

Diane, Daniel, Adelaide, and Grant file out like they have some serious business to attend to- with each other. I stifle a laugh. Ade and Grant leading them on a wild goose chase about the
game, no doubt. At least their taunting ends the day after Christmas. I don’t think any of us can go any longer than that before we are committed to WinterCrest Asylum.

Kristal
, my fellow recovering sex addict and another
enforcer
slave to the game, doesn’t stifle her laugh. She starts giggling like a loon. “Ha… ahaaa… wow. I love that you guys are living here now. It’s so entertaining- breathed some life into this morbid house.”

“I aim to please,” I charmingly say, smirking.

“Ready, Chica? We have a big account to nail down today.” Kris yanks Fate from the room before Fate can attempt to clear the breakfast dishes away. Kris won’t touch a thing if it’s housework. After being a maid for the first eighteen years of her life, she refuses to lift a finger. I don’t blame her.

It’s just me and my wards, the twins and the pups, and two others. One is
hungrily staring at my lips in lust, and one is staring at my lips like they’re imagining violently tearing them from my face.

“Marc,” I say in warning. He hasn’t been doing very well lately. A combination of the stress of the game, which makes me feel incredibly guilty, and his unbridled lust over me, which makes me feel really hot.

Marcus openly stares at my lips, pissed that Ezra kissed me. Ironically, it was Marc and Katya begging me for years to touch Ezra, and now neither of them likes it. Jealousy is a real bitch.

A silent and scowling
Regina is the one wanting to render me lipless. Marcus, being a faithful bastard, told his fiancée everything… and I mean every single detail of our tryst. How do I know this? Regina hissed the sordid details while beating the shit out of me. My rib still protests. Regina stopped kicking my ass when I uttered two words… Halloween. Maze.

Who knew, me, Cortez Hunter
: the bastard, the orphan, the whipping boy, the guy with pudge, was able to turn a straight man gay for me… ain’t love grand?

“C’mon little ones. Take your puppies,” I softly say to my children. “Azriel, remember, don’t squeeze to
o hard when you hold underneath their tummies.”

Azriel picks up Missy, arm under the pup’s soft underbelly. Her huge green eyes roll up to me, silently asking if she did it properly. I nod my head
, and her responding smile is the most beatific thing I’ve ever seen, enough to make me want to cry.

“You need to be quiet while Daddy writes. You can teach the pups how to roll over while I work, kay?” I lead my monsters, puppies in hand, towards my office, leaving the scowling Marcus and Regina to work out their own shit. I ain’t touching that, just as I’m not touching Marc again unless it’s a hug.

The Hunter: Past
-Chapter Nineteen-

“How old are you? You getting wood yet?” Ray creepily asks Aaron. His tall form bends at the waist as he gets into Aaron’s personal space. It’s not like the kid hasn’t tried to get away from our captor. He’s huddle
d in the corner of the motel room, between the bed and the wall.

We’ve been here for at least twenty-four hours. I gave up guessing after Ray unplugged the alarm clock and started giving us meals at strange intervals. The drapes are drawn so I can’t tell if it’s night or day. But what is the worst are the drugs. Ray injects us with some kind of tranquilizer, so that he doesn’t have to bind and gag us before he leaves. If I were awake, I’d love
it when Ray was gone. But if Ray leaves, that means he left for a reason. I hate it when Ray comes back. He’s never alone… and he’s always back before we wake up.

“I’m fifteen, sir. I… I’ve,” Aaron’s voice quivers. “I’ve been getting wood for a few years, sir.” Ray makes Aaron call him
Sir
, and Ezra call him
Father
, and me call him
Uncle
. We’re very respectful and polite around here- we are, Ray isn’t. 

“Hmm… your dad is a big guy. Why are you so tiny?” Ray sneers down at Aaron in distaste. “Are you g
ay, too?” Ray’s eyes flick to Ezra and me in disgust. It’s not the first time Ray has called Aaron a fag for being a late bloomer compared to the kid’s hulking father. “What did I do to deserve two faggots as my only descendants? What, tell me? Faggots that fuck each other, no less. What are the odds?” he rhetorically asks.

Aaron
, the dumbass, answers, “The odds were pretty high, sir.”

“Excuse me? What did you say?”
Ray bends down further, putting his forehead to Aaron’s. Aaron tries to back up farther, but he’s trapped himself into a corner. Like a deer caught in headlights, Aaron stares up at Ray, meeting the evil man’s eyes.

I learned that lesson yesterday
- never meet Ray’s eyes and never trap yourself. Now I sit in the middle of the floor. Sure, I’ve had my ribs bashed in when I didn’t see Ray coming, but at least I have room to run.

Of course,
Ezra is sitting pretty in an upholstered chair. As per usual, Ezra is golden. Not one single white hair has been touched on his beautiful head.

“I… I was curious, ‘cuz of Diane and Ezra. Like you said, ‘what are the odds?’ So I looked it up. The chances increase if you have someone who is gay in your family. Every family does, most just don’t come out of the closet. But since I… since you said you were Ezra’s dad
and
Cort’s uncle, it made more sense.”

“Shut up, Aaron,” Ezra
calmly orders from the safety of his chair, and the kid immediately stops rambling mid-word.

“Is this brat like Boyd or some shit? A little
Einstein?” Ray turns to face Ezra, so I use the distraction to back closer to the door- farthest away from everybody. I’d learned through example what a whipping boy meant earlier today. If Ezra fucks up, I take the punishment. I curl into myself, trying to be invisible.

“Who’s Boyd?” Innocent Aaron asks- the moron.
When will he learn?

“Faith’s brother,” Ezra quickly replies, but he’s trying to tell Aaron to shut his fucking mouth with his facial expressions. Ray intercepts all the looks, but Aaron doesn’t. Ray’s disturbing giggle flows evil into my veins.

“Oh,” Aaron breathes. “I met guess I met him once a few years ago… Faith’s sixteenth birthday party.”

“Before my son so nicely interrupted us…”

“Ugh!” I grunt when a sharp smack takes me across the jaw. I stopped protesting around the time I was hit five times in a row. Every time I asked
why
, I got belted again. By the fifth time, I noticed the pattern. It was ten smacks later before Ezra figured out I was taking his hits, too.

I stopped flinching and rubbing the ache away several pounding ago. My face is one continuous bruise. I’m the only one who has a mark on them.

“Please, Aaron, do go on,” Ray says in a disturbingly happy tone. “What makes sense?”

“Father,” Ezra calls, wielding some strange power over the older man that I don’t understand. Ray never touches Ezra, not in affection or punishment. The father
loves to look at the son. They both will stare at the other for hours, silently communicating. If Ray doesn’t like what Ezra has to silently say, his hand flashes out and I’m left bleeding. I’m sure it has something to do with their mental illness. Now I believe in the genetic link to insanity. Wonderful, since I’m their blood, too. Is this what the future has to hold for me and my children… and endless canvas of insanity?

“Nah… I think I want to hear
this, Son,” Ray says as if he and Ezra were silently negotiating and he won the contest. “It’s nice having young enforcer Frost around. It’s like my own personal Google. I don’t have to get my phone out to fact-check. Do go on, Aaron.”

Another strange thing is that Ray keeps calling me
young enforcer Hunter
and Aaron
young enforcer Frost
. Stranger yet, Ray keeps reverently calling Ezra
Elder Holden
. Whatever the fuck any of this means. But then again, the man is a lunatic that abducted us… and worse.

“Studies have been done on the link to homosexuality and genetics. With Diane being a lesbian, as Ezra’s mom, it increased his chances. But Cort-”

Crack!

I give the kid credit, he didn’t even make a peep. I screamed the first time Ray hit me with an open fist. I wince and whimper for Aaron. I know exactly how that particular hit feels- it’s Ray’s favorite. I almost beg to be Aaron’s whipping boy, too. But you don’t interrupt a furious insane person.

“Are you insinuating that
I
have something to do with why my boys are gay?” Ray slowly and succinctly whisper shouts into Aaron’s face. “That
I
carry a gene and Diane most definitely carries a gene, and we made our son a faggot? That
I
made Cortez a faggot?”

“No, sir. I was just relaying the study results, is all,” Aaron slurs through his
swollen lips.

“Well, it’s a good thing my nephew isn’t gay, now isn’t
it?” Ray sarcastically utters, his signal that he’s going to make me prove his statement.

As if on a silent cue, I shove back against the wall. “NO. No. No. no. no. no, no, no, no, no,” each one coming softer and slower than the last. “No. Please, no, Uncle. I don’t want to,” I whine, voice cracking from desolation. I’m
no longer terrified. I just feel lost and alone- cut off from any decisions over my body’s responses.

“If Ezra would
just admit that he likes girls, this wouldn’t be a problem. But since this ‘personality’ doesn’t ‘remember’ ever fucking a girl,” Ray rolls his eyes and makes air quotes with his fingers. “Then we’ll just have to use you to prove that the Hunters are manly and strong.”

“I would remember if I fucked a girl,” Ezra defiantly hisses.

“Sure you would,” Ray dramatically drawls out. “Most definitely would remember that… But since you admit to only anal sex with our pregnant Game Master…”

Hours, hours of interrogation, and Ezra still refuses to admit that he slept wi
th Faith. At first I thought Ezra was trying to get out of taking responsibility over his betrayal. But watching Ezra struggle with the truth as Ray tried to drag it out of him, made me realize that a part of Ezra is suppressing the truth.

I
had guessed that Faith’s baby belonged to Ezra, but I hadn’t said a damned thing, and then Ray brought it up the second we got in here. Stranger still, Ray keeps calling Faith
Game Master
or
Madame Game Master
, and he always sounds like he’s talking about the boogey man. Who the hell could be scarier than Ray Hunter? Surely not the sweet Faith I know. She’s a snarky bitch, but kind and giving.

“There’
s some kind of rules between fags, isn’t there? Pitcher and catcher. You guys prefer one to the other, or something. Who does what between you two?” Ray asks, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he points a finger between Ezra and me.

I say nothing. I never speak unless I’m begging for mercy. This time, Ezra joins me in silence.

“Kid,” Ray points to chatty Aaron.

“Um…” Aaron swallows hard. His tongue flashes out to capture a drop of blood dangling off his lower lip. I wish Aaron would learn from my maltreatment. Until that hit, it’s the first time Ray has touched Aaron. Ray really loves me- terri
fyingly so. “Cort is the pitcher, sir.”

“No surprise, there, now is there? My son is a pussy all around. Can’t take his own hits, can’t take his own fucks, and can’t even fuck his own boyfriend. At least my nephew is a fucker. I don’
t care if it’s boys or girls, Cortez takes them, not the other way around. You should learn from this, Ezra.”

“Yes, Father,” Ezra drones, not meaning it at all. Which is a really bad fucking sign for me. The cocksucking bitch is
shredding me to bits- emotionally, physically, and sexually. If Ezra doesn’t start complying, I’m going to start hitting Ezra for Ray.

“Shall we try this again?” Ray insanely sings, a scary inner light radiating from stormy gray eyes. “Ezra, my son?”

“NO. No. No. No. no. no, no, no, no… no… no… Uncle, please?” I beg, getting onto my knees and abasing myself before my abductor. “Please,” I whine, not touching the man, but gazing up at him, pleading that he won’t make me do it again. “Please.”

“Don’t beg me,” Ray dispassionately mutters. “Blame him,” he points at Ezra.

“Ezra?” I breathe, begging him to put me out of my misery. “Please,” I softly mouth, reaching my hand out towards him. Ezra closes his eyes, refusing to look at me. I slump to the ground in defeat.

“I didn’t,” Ezra firmly says with conviction, truly believing the lie.

“You could just say you did,” Aaron mutters beneath his breath, and a second later he pays the price for it when a closed fist connects with his shoulder. Softly crying, Aaron curls up in the corner, cradling his wounded arm. No one reaches to comfort Aaron. We know better by now. When will Aaron learn?

“I’d know,” Ray hisses. “I’d know. Don’t ever try to lie to me. You’re just as
bad as Patrick, your spineless weasel of a father.”

All eyes flick to the corner, knowing what happens
next. A young woman in her late teens or early twenties is bound at the wrists, her mouth gagged, and a scarf tied around her eyes. She is nearly purple with bruises that cover every inch of her exposed flesh. The only movement she makes is the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. The woman has learned several lessons at Ray’s hands, too. She doesn’t move or speak or scream unless it is truly awful.

Ray had said the woman
was a whore- one he never paid. She was the third one he had brought us. The third time he’d tranquilized us so we’d sleep. Only this one was definitely not a whore.

She
’d screamed.

She
’d screamed a lot until Ray made her stop.

Ray hauls the girl across the room and plops her on
to the mattress. Ray arranges her so that she is bent over the foot of the bed with her ass up in the air. This is why none of us ever touch the bed- ever. Ray flicks her skirt up, baring her bruised pussy and ass. With a big thwack of his palm to her pink cheek, he sinisterly laughs, enjoying every second of it.

Today I became a whipping boy, not realizing that I was one yesterday, too. A whipping boy of a different distinction. When Ezra refused to admit that he’d had sex with Faith and knocked her up, Ray tranquilized us and brought back a whore- a whore he fucked in front of us. When Ezra refused again, I took the punishment.

Ray needs Ezra to admit it, to admit that Faith’s child is his grandchild, and Ezra won’t. Yesterday, after I was forced to fuck the first two whores, the third was shoved at me- only she wasn’t a whore. Yesterday, I became a whipping boy of another distinction.

I was made to fuck in Ezra’s place, as Ezra’
s punishment. I was forced to rape, and she wasn’t a whore.

She was a virgin.

And I will never get her screams out of my head.

And that is when I started to hate Ezra. But I can never
truly hate Ezra. So I decided to hate Faith and her baby instead.

Robotically I get to my feet, take my always hard cock from my jeans, roll a condom on, and numbly fuck the
motionless girl while everyone watches.