Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (107 page)

“Here’s the thing, Chaz. I will only speak to you. Your friends are too hysterical to make any sense, so I’ll ask a question and you will answer. If you lie, Dexter will hurt your friends.” I channel Ezra and Niel and let my inner-crazy out. I smile calmly and pat Chaz’s shoulder. I project that I’m the good guy and he can trust me- that I’m the one that keeps Dexter in check.
Dexter eagerly pulls the girl’s tiny pinkie finger flat against the slate tile and presses the tip into her flesh.

“Anything,” Chaz rapidly sp
its out before blood is drawn.

“Smart man,” I praise
. “Were you hired to do this?”

“Yes,” he yelps before
I finish asking the question.

“How much did you get to hurt one of my own?” I
hiss furiously.

“Not money. They t
hreatened my sister,” he sobs.

“Who are they?” I prompt.

“I don’t know,” he says in a panic. I can’t read him because he’s starting to get hysterical. I chose Chaz because he was the most lucid. Once they cross the threshold to panic I can’t read their body language.

“Who’s your sister?”

“No,” he says defiantly.

We flinch together as we listen to the horrific wailing as Dexter removes a finger. He shuffles down to the next guy and meets my eyes. I can see remorse and shock in reflexed back at me. He didn’t want to do it, but a Master has to keep their promises or he is nothing.

“I’m sorry, Sarina,” Chaz whimpers, and I hold the tears that prickle my eyes at bay.

“Why wouldn’t you say her name?” I whisper.

“They will kill her. She’s all I have.” He closes his eyes in defeat.

“Tell me everything you can that doesn’t involve her and I will let your friends go, but you stay with us,” I threaten.

“Okay,” he swallows. “My sister saw something she shouldn’t have and I tried to help her. They are making her do something and she can’t tell me what. I was called and told to get some friends and… She said I needed to create chaos or they’d hurt my sister. So we did,” his eerie, violet eyes stare at me with sincerity.

“Did you meet this person? What
else did they tell you to do?”

“No, I never met them.
Six phone calls, each with different instructions. Each time the request was worse than the last. Tonight we were told to kill your Master.”

“What do you mean, kill him?” I gas
p in shock.

“It wasn’t just me. There are… Jesus, I don’t know how many of us there are. But they created diversions in the club so that the dungeon would empty. We were given instructions to kill your Master and make it look like an accident. I’ve never killed anyone and I just couldn’t do it,” he sobs. 

“Was it random?” A shiver of fear shoots up my spine.

“No, she sent me a text of his picture. She said he needed dead before he could change her fate.” He closes his eyes and I can see thoughts rolling across his face. He’s very expressive, and right now he’s terrified.

His eyes open impossibly wide. “French- a French accent so thick I could barely understand her.”

I gasp in shock. I thought Dexter would too, but he doesn’t get the reference. I can no longer hold the tears
back, they fall rapidly down my face- frustration, anger, fear. I sob so violently that I lose control of my limbs.

Who could do that to a child- She is a monster.

“Did that help you?” Chaz asks hopefully.

Dexter gives me a look- he has no idea what I just figured out. I give him an imperc
eptible nod and close my eyes.

“Yes, thank you, Chaz. Dexter will take all of your friends to the hospital. I need your information; you and I are now besties. I hope we can come to trust one another eventually. I want to help your sister, because nothing is more important than family.” Saying the word causes another sob to erupt from my throat. 

I untie Chaz while Dexter cuts the other five from their binds.

“Chaz is the name she sent me. I was sent a packet of id’s so that if we were caught it wouldn’t lead back to her. My real name is Levi Wilson.” He tries to shake my hand but his fingers are mangled. He winces and shakes anyway.

“Dexter will get all of your information. Lie to him and I will be your worst nightmare,” I warn.

“I understand. Thank you and tell your Master I’m sorry,” he hangs his head in shame. His narrow shoulders rise and fall as he silently cries. I don’t acknowledge his tears, because he’s a man and he’s been through enough without me emasculating him.

“I have to get to Dalton. Call me later, Dexter,” I call out as I walk away.

Chapter Forty

I use the walk down the hallway that is lined with our private rooms and up the wide staircase that leads to the upper-floors to stabilize my control. I don’t knock on Dalton’s door, I just enter.
I gasp before I can stop myself. I stare wide-eyed at the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Dalton lies naked on his mattress, unconscious. His disguise is gone.

Roman gives me a small smile and slides his fingers through Dalton’s hair in a familiar way. I smile in the face of Dalton’s injuries because Roman and Dalton have identical hair- glossy silk that falls in perfect inky strands.

Devlin stands by the door looking like the beast of a man from the show
Spartacus
- the Doctore. Almost seven feet of midnight perfection that sucks all the air from the room. He doesn’t scare me- his presence comforts me. His blue eyes are so pale that they glow white, stare at me and read my soul. I shiver and pretend he isn’t here.

“How is your son?”
Softly spills from my throat.

I don’t look at Devlin as I speak. I walk over to Dalton and hold his small hand. He’s been so nice to me while he ruined everything in his path. I don’t think he even understand why he’s being nice to me. Somehow he knows who I am- or who I will be to him on several levels. I’ve never been s
o sure of anything in my life.

“His mind is more injured than his body. He shut down from the fear. He’s petrified of being bound,” Devlin says with equal softness. “Plea
se keep this secret,” he begs.

I meet his eyes to show him my sincerity. “Devlin, I’ve always known who Dalton was,” I say pointedly and his eerie eyes widen in shock. I just admitted to him who I am to the man he calls brot
her. He nods in understanding.

I kiss my husband on the forehead. His eyes don’t leave the sleeping man. I watch his awed face. Whitt is mesmerized. He stares at Dalton in a mix of covetous lust and tender care. I watch his face and I hear a word echo like a heartbeat… mine… mine… mine. Whitt’s shocked blue eyes never stray from the man he claims as a mate.

“Marcus gave me a picture of him. It didn’t do him justice. He’s such a beautifully exquisite creature.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own- soft. I sound like the expression on Whitt’s face. 

“Jesus,” Whitt whimpers- completely starstruck.

“Do you like
our gift,” I tease my husband.

His eyes flick to me for a split-second in question and return to Dalton’s ruby-kissed lips. I watch as his neck ripples as he tries to swallow his need.

“What?” He asks huskily.

“You can be so daft sometimes,” I chuckle and touch Dalton’s hair, allowing the silky strands to slide between my fingertips. “We’ve been shoving you at him for almost three years. So stubborn,” I murmur.

“Your wife wants you to be happy. He,” Roman settles his hand on Dalton’s chest directly over his heart “Will make you very happy, and you will make him happy,” Roman says assuredly as he stares down at his friend.

“What’s going on?” Devlin d
emands and steps near his son.

“He has a crush on Whitt,” Roman admits. “Whitt has a crush on him. Marcus, Kris, Regina, and I have been working our asses off trying to get them to give into it.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Devlin promises with hope glittering in his eerie eyes. He turns and addresses me out of respect.

“Is she as
beautiful?” I sigh to Devlin.

“Everyone pales to Dalton,” Devlin says of his son in a voice filled with desolation. His tone screams that it’s Dalton’s curse. “She looks like him,” he stresses h
im and I know he means Marcus.

I smile at him out of happiness. I want to see Marc’s feature
s carved on his daughter face.

“Good… I can’t wait to meet her,” I whisper, my voice filled with tears. “I need to be there when they meet,” I look at Devlin begging him to allow it.

“Soon,” he agrees.

They say those in a coma can hear what you say to them. Dalton is unconscious out of fear. It’s not the same as a coma, but I hope the theory is true. I brush his hair away and press my lips tightly to the shell of his ear. I don’t want anyo
ne to hear what I have to say.

“I’m so sorry, Dalton. Don’t blame yourself. She’s broken and I won’t allow her to hurt you again,” as I whisper I realize that I’ve just made him mine too. Not in the way he is Whitt’s and Whitt is his. Dalton is now one of my family and I will do all I can to protect him and make sure he finds his happiness. 

I lean into him and silently cry for the young man. What kind of monster tries to murder her own son? As a mother who has fought for every second spent with her children it wrecks me. I loved my children before they were conceived. I loved them the second Grant came to me requesting I be his surrogate.

I cry and silently vow to protect him and his sister. Marc loves my children as his own and I love the people he has claimed as his. Dalton and Spyder are different. Spyder is his child and Dalton is her brother, and now they are mine to protect.

I startle when realization strikes. I am Marcus’ female counterpart. We stand separate but equal as we protect all of those we claim. It’s a lonely position.

I step away from Dalton with a stunned, blank look on my face. Not so much different
than the one that Whitt wears.

I stand scared, shivering, and I want to run- run from the devotion that roars over me. I wonder if Marcus reached this same conclusion, and if it shocked him to his core.

“Regina?” Whitt asks at my curious behavior.

“I… I… um… I ha
ve to talk to Marc,” I mumble.

“Finally,” Roman and Whitt say in unison, both sound relieved. Roman continues to speak, “It was like having your parents fight. We need you whole, Sweetheart.” His aqua eyes glitter at the shell-shocked expression on my face.

“I have an insanely strong need to hug and kiss the four Whittenhower grandchildren,” I whisper in a fog.

My arms ache to hold my neurotic son, my diva daughter, and my orphaned nieces. Parents are horrible monsters. Diane ruins her son’s family. Olivia tries to kill her only son. Even Kate left her children to help her husband’s career. Jamie doesn’t look as bad in comparison. 

Chapter Forty-One

“Hey,” I whisper to Marc when I walk into my bedroom after showering. “I…I…” I stumble over what I need to say.

He gives me a sad smile and says, “I heard you wanted to see me. To talk,” he stresses.

“Ah… they always tattle on me,” I tease. “We have a lot to talk about.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and give a tug on Marc’s pajama pants to gain his attention. He doesn’t sleep over often. Usually when he’s fed up with me and does as he pleases, but he always wears these pants. He brought them here four years ago. Seeing them is always bittersweet. They make me ache for something I can’t even fathom, let alone hope for.

We sit on the bed, cross-legged and facing each other. His eyes are open and trusting. I know without a doubt that he will tell me anything I ask and not lie.

“I saw Dalton tonight,” I admit. “If the brother is any indicator of the sister, your daughter is stunning.”  

Jealousy flashes through me like a fiery backdraft. Marc would improve anyone genetically, but Dalton isn’t of his bloodline. One look at Olivia and my heart will probably stop.

Marc scrunches up his eyes and looks wounded. I reach out to comfort him, but let my hand
fall to my lap.

“Sorry, I sometimes think about Olivia and
I…” I sigh heavily. I’ve never admitted this kind of thing to him. I mustn’t inflate his ego- it would explode. “I’m jealous, but the look wasn’t directed at your daughter. I’m excited to meet her. Devlin promised that I could meet her when she visits.”

I stare at my hands and when he doesn’t reply after a long moment I look up. He’s gazing at me in shock with his mouth ajar. He smiles at me and I watch every muscle in his body go from taut to lax in a heartbeat. His expression is optimistic.

“Did you hear about tonight?” He only nods as a reply. I guess I will be the one doing the talking.