Page 10

I follow the binge-eating and binge-drinking man through the solarium and out into the snow-covered lawn. We walk for a long while. Neither dressed for the environment, snow filling the cuffs on my trousers to dampen my socks. When we finally arrive at our destination, my feet are frozen, my teeth are chattering– which I attribute to the chill, not the fact that I’m nervous to speak my piece with Marcus.

“I’ve never been here before,” I admit, wishing I’d explored more of the grounds in the warmer months. Just goes to show how we let everyday life get in the way of living. “Seven months living within Misery Castle’s walls and I didn’t even know this place existed.”

A fond smile pulls at Marc’s lips as he gazes out over the landscape. “Jamie and I have come here since we met as children. My grandmother spent her last hours in life sitting in this very spot. It reminds me of home,” Marcus wistfully murmurs, getting lost in the past.

Marcus grew up in Gothic manse, located on Lake Serenity. It burnt to the ground when I was fifteen, just before everything spiraled out of control for Marcus. We lost his grandmother shortly after, as if Rebekah Zeitler lost the will to live without the home she and her family had shared since the inception of Dominion.

Cort and I have discussed Marc’s issues at length. How Marcus is a man without a home, a profession, a wife and children to call his own. That instinctive drive has been dampened by events outside of his control, as if he’s been emotionally castrated at every turn. Marcus is an alpha male who needs to support his family, contribute to society, and have a modicum of control at all times.

I suffer the same sense of loss as Cortez and the rest of Shadow Haven’s inhabitants, but our home still stands unharmed, lovingly cared after by the Jessups. It’s easy to forget, after Marcus sharing space at Shadow Haven, how that is not his home.

Gwen may have been misogynistic this evening, but she was right about the instinctive drive for a man like Marcus to create a legacy to pass on to future generations. Immortality, if you will. That is the meaning of life for a man such as Marcus.

“I can see why this reminds you of Lake Serenity.”

Not many in my generation have viewed the property, because Marcus only takes those he trusts to the site of his loss. Marcus avoids the pain of the past by avoiding his home territory. Grant spends the most time at the property, gazing out into nothingness, then spilling the emotions onto paper. It’s apropos how Grant seeks reflection at Lake Serenity, while Marcus does the same at Misery Castle.

Marcus and I sit in a gazebo, overlooking a small, manmade lake, more of a pond really. It’s gorgeous on this wintry night, Christmas ending an hour or so ago. The frozen landscape glitters blue in the moonlight. Breathtaking. Life-changing.

Rebirth.

“Would you like to know why I love Torian and Zane so much?” Marcus takes the crate from my embrace, then organizes our snacks on the railing of the gazebo. With practiced ease, he uses a bottle opener, then hands me a lager.

“Those boys remind me so much of you and Cortez. It amazes me. Zane is you, if you would have had loving parents and a strong support system, been allowed to thrive. Torian is insecure, intoxicating, and engaging. The quiet and contemplative bonded with the theatrical and cunning.”

“And their relationship is healthy, not toxic like mine with Cortez… if only we’d known our connection, those feelings wouldn’t have grown.”

“Sometimes fate has other plans.” Marcus prompts my mind to wander back toward the kitchen, where Whitney is receiving comforting advice.

Zane and Torian have a healthy relationship, but that doesn’t mean what happened between Whitney and Niel is toxic. They grew up side by side, knowing their connection, yet the end result was the same as mine with Cortez. Maybe Marcus is right how Cortez and I were destined to be who we are today, no matter how winding the journey.

“It gives me hope.” Those amber eyes glitter like the snow. At ease, Marcus seems to be relieved to be having this conversation with me, like maybe he waited until he saw the change in me. The integration. “Being around them gives me hope. I only feel a paternal draw toward the boys, so I feel as if I can mentor them without harming them in the process.”

Translation: Marcus believes he harmed Cortez and me.

“By society’s estimation, we’re the same age, old man. Grown men in our thirties.” Elbowing Marcus in the ribs, I try to lighten the heavy mood that has fallen. “That’s the difference. All three of us were teenagers. You were sheltered, whereas Cortez and I were not, removing what little age-gap we had. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t mentor your own peers, legalities of being my adoptive father and Cort’s guardian aside.”

“I had sick thoughts about you and Cortez.” The admission nearly takes Marcus to his knees.

Horrified, filled with nothing but shame and regret, Marcus turns away from me, making sure I can no longer see his face. The man dreamed of being a father to me, but how is that possible after all we’ve survived?

Just because Marcus adopted me when he married my mother, it didn’t negate the fact that he was a teenager. He wanted Cortez and me, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. I respect Marcus all the more for his valiant effort, and I’m thankful he can give my son and his cousin the mentoring he couldn’t give Cortez and me.

In Marc’s mind, when it comes to Cortez and me, he sees himself as our predator, when he longed to be our protector. He just can’t handle the fact that the feelings were mutual between all of us.

“Repeating history with Zane and Torian will cleanse what you see as sins.” As a distraction and for fortification, I take a large swallow of lager. “I love that about you, Marcus. You’re the best damned father a boy would ever need. You raise men,” I reverently say. “Maybe some day you will raise your own child from birth onward.”

“I’ve tried.” Marcus proves his bronze skin does in fact show a blush. Bashfully ducking his head, fingertips run through his curls, a habit he’s had since the day we met.

“You’ve made it your sole occupation,” is muttered in appreciation. “And humble, you are not.” Teasing, I raise my bottle in his direction.

Making an exasperated sound in the back of his throat, Marcus pins me with his amber gaze. “We’ve fucked with each other over a lifetime, Ezra. True combat of the mind and soul. I don’t blame you at all. I don’t even blame myself. It. Just. Is. But it doesn’t take the pain away.”

“Any pain we inflicted on the other, we both have to accept that it was never intentional.” Yet another person I ache to soothe. Yet another person I don’t dare touch, fearing the reception I’ll receive.

Head jerking to the side to hide from me, falling tears of guilt and shame spear me in the heart. “I’m trying, Ezra. But the trust between us never got the chance to develop. You already fractured before I came to live at Shadow Haven. The budding change I can see in you tonight, it gives me hope.”

“Spring origins for being sprung from the winter of life,” is murmured, where I sound like Cortez when he waxes poetic.

“Exactly. Spring.” Marcus agrees. Then a second later, he bites a cookie in half, thoughtfully chewing.

“Rebirth– I integrated.” I quickly spit out the truth I’ve wanted to share all damn night. “I integrated right as the meeting started. I held my children’s hands for the first time at the same time, while looking at Cortez. I integrated.” Shudders rippling down my spine, I never want to experience it again. “My patients never accurately described the horrible sensation.”

“Whoa…” Marcus breathes out in a rush. “Welcome back, I’ve missed you.” He raises his bottle to clink mine. “Mazel tov.”

“Mazel tov,” is whispered back, my eyes slipping closed. The first step in righting all the wrongs my alters committed is to start with Marcus. “I want to apologize for what I’ve done to you.”

“Ezra.” Marcus settles a hand on my shoulder, the warmth causing me to spill the contents of my soul.

“I hadn’t realized the depth of pain I’ve created. Knowing of the events and experiencing them in reality are two very different things. While Faith and Caleb hosted the meeting, every horrid act my alters ever committed flowed directly into me, as if I were committing them in present time– right that very second.”

Voice quivering as badly as my body, I struggle to continue. “I don’t deserve the life I have. I’ve destroyed Cortez, lifetimes’ worth of betrayal. I’ve violated you– your body, your trust, and your respect. I’ve hurt and violated the two most important people in my life countless times.”

I’m apologizing because I truly mean it, never planning on doing those acts again, not because I’m using the apology as an excuse to erase what I’ve done.

Marcus is silent, weighing my words for truth. Aching for comfort only he can provide, I reach by him to grab a bag of potato chips. Tearing them open, I eat a handful, even though I’m not hungry. Simply because he chose these treats specifically for me.

The normalcy relaxes Marcus.

“Katya finally left you, didn’t she?” No judgment in Marc’s tone, I quickly nod my head. I devour potato chips to stop myself from regurgitating my guilt and shame in the form of words best not spoken.

“Regina didn’t tell me what happened last night– Jamie did.” Disappointment rings strongly in his tone. “It hurts me for several reasons… Regina and Kat walked in on Jamie and Faith in bed, with Wil watching on. Jamie minced no words, telling me how horrific Regina treated Kat. You were the ammunition leveled at your own wife.”

“I believe I will have to seek absolution for the rest of my days.” Mind turned inward, if I could change anything, it would be going to the tent last night.

Kat, Cort, and I would have spent time watching our children sleep, which would have meant she never entered Grant’s bedroom for his manuscript. Why did I allow my wife to work on Christmas Eve? Because I was too distracted by Cortez, that’s why.

Our lives wouldn’t have irrevocably changed, but it still wouldn’t have been fair to keep Katya in the dark.

“Even if I live forever, I’ll never be able to earn absolution,” is muttered with sincerity. “All I can do is attempt to right even a few wrongs.”

“I have a feeling that’s exactly what you’ll be doing. What are you going to do about Katya?” Marcus asks, but only mild curiosity is present in his voice.

“I don’t want to give up on her– I never give up.” I answer, the tensile strength of steel in my tone. “I’ll find a way to reconnect, and I don’t mean by exploiting the connection to our children. Kat and I need each other.”

“You need to answer my next question for yourself.” Marcus drains the bottle of lager, then opens another. “Are you doing this for Kat or yourself? Are you in love with Katya? Is it because you feel guilty? Is it because Katya is in love with you? If the answer is yes to anything other than because you love each other and each other alone, then break it off. Break it off now. You may hurt, but you will ruin Katya.”

“I’m in love with Katya. Completely and irrevocably. But for her sake, it’s over.” Those words ring with finality in my ears. “I know it. Katya knows it. We all know it. I’m just not ready yet. I can’t–” I abruptly stop speaking, throat closing off in agony. Muscles tight and thick, I fight to speak as I gaze out over the natural beauty of the lake. Its serenity at total odds with the chaos playing out in my emotions.

Tears of shame sting my eyes like acid. Forced out, my voice is thick and strained with emotion. “I can’t go to Cortez and pretend to be happy while Katya is in pain. We all deserve better.”

“No, you cannot.” Marcus agrees, hand flashing out to cup the nape of my neck, squeezing away the pain of reality. “And you shouldn’t. You need some space too. All of you do. You all have to find your equal footing, no matter which path you take.”

“Are you still trying to get my man in my absence?” I taunt, trying to ignore the gravity of our new reality, but truer words were never spoken. “I get finding Cort irresistible. You love Cortez, but we both know you’re not in love with him.”

“No one can love Cortez as much as you.” Marcus drains his beer, opens another, drains it, and begins again.

“My love is toxic.” Suddenly, I decide being drunk is where I need to be too. “You’re shitting me, right? The binge-drinking is screaming what your words aren’t.”

“Fuck if I know,” Marcus mutters around a huge swallow of beer. “Hence the quest for drunkenness… am I in love with Cort? What a goddamn predator I would be if I was.”

Marcus meets my eyes, and we suspend in time for several silent moments– gray and amber frozen in time. We cease to breathe as another shocking reality turns the axis of our lives.

“I’m pretty sure I am.” Marcus gravely admits, eyes shuttering his tumultuous emotions. Then he opens another beer. “This limbo I’m suspended in with Regina and Jamie has left me susceptible to forbidden temptation I’ve avoided since I met you and Cortez. I find being in love with Cortez inconvenient, so I refuse to be. I mean, who the fuck can honestly be in love with more than one person at a time?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know anything about a human being’s ability to be in love with more than one person and not have it affect how strongly I love another. No. Idea. At. All.”

Marcus growls at me in annoyance. “I love Cortez more than myself. I love you more than myself. I love Regina more than myself. I love Jamie more than myself. I will conquer this challenge. No matter how badly I ache to touch Cortez, to hold him, to make love to him, to seek him out for comfort and companionship… I refuse. We aren’t meant for one another. The next few months of detox will be torture.”

“Well, at least you have alcohol,” is muttered in shock, our bottles clinking together in solidarity.

After downing my beer, I crack open another. “ Holy fuck ,” I whisper in awe, eyes bugging from my skull. No wonder Cortez has been a sexual lunatic, walking around like he has a dick bigger than God Himself.

“I’m going to repeat my granddaughter’s sentiments. Don’t fuck this up, Ezra. Know that if you do, I’ll swoop in and take Cortez from you. After all the shit you’ve done to me, I may or may not even feel badly about it.”

“You’re threatening me?!” I sputter in shock while staring at the man who just promised to lose everything in order to take what’s rightfully mine. “There isn’t anyone on the planet who doesn’t believe Cortez is mine. Always will be. Whoever gets in my way will live to regret it.”

“I’ll take my chances, son ,” Marcus tacks on for effect. “What’s one more relationship I interject myself in? One day Regina will go back to Jamie, and I’ll be left alone. You’re conflicted, in love with both Katya and Cort. I could so easily take Cort and you could run off into the sunset with Katya. I’m in the middle of two sets of destined partners, with the one I’ve always wanted incapable of loving me the way I need.”

“What?” Mind boggled, I try to translate what the hell Marcus is trying to say. “Your Jamie? Jesus Christ, Marcus. I didn’t realize.” Now I understand why he was obsessed with the connection Daniel and my mother have, hoping to at least share that with Grant.

“I’ll give you until I can’t take it anymore.” Marcus ignores me, voice tight with a lifetime of agony. “You have three months tops before I say the fuck with it. Don’t think I can’t manipulate Cortez– I’m the only one who can. And don’t think Cort isn’t in love with me too. He is!”

“What the fuck, Dad ?” I purposefully stress our relationship.

“Call it motivation to get your head out of your ass. We both know you and Cortez work best when jealousy is the motivating factor.”

Marcus holds out a blue and white confection, like the Evil Queen with a juicy red apple. His smile is pure wickedness, lips appearing redder than ever against the white icing smeared on his bottom lip. A ringlet falls to cover his forehead as he innocently offers, “Cookie?”