Page 17

“Welcome, come in.” Wil graciously offers as I invade their apartment. As always, he is calm and cordial, not the usual reception I receive. Most look at me as if the Grim Reaper passed their thresholds.

It’s not often I pay anyone a visit during daylight hours, but I felt it time to sit down and discuss our son, now that Dominion knows of Zane’s existence and our connection. This is me trying to be respectful.

“Ezra,” Stanton clips out rudely. He sizes me up, but unlike Wil, Stanton sees me as a threat. I don’t blame Stanton, since I’ve done some shitty things in the name of MdJ over the years, some directed at him. Stanton was a defensive player, protecting many, spending all his energy on his criminal empire.

No matter what Caleb insisted during the Christmas meeting, not many believe in my innocence, same with Olivia and Adelaide. Decades’ long animosity can’t be erased overnight. I have to accept the consequences for my actions, no matter how lonely they make me feel.

“I came to speak with you and Faith,” I politely request as I enter their apartment.

“Ah, like you couldn’t just wake her ass up when you break into our home at two a.m. every morning.” Stanton growls from his seat on the sofa, a thorn in his paw.

Maybe Stanton’s feeling trapped and restless after having his large family stuffed into this apartment for the holidays, like Caleb was. That explains why the Green section at the Christmas meeting was bloated with family.

Oh, maybe Stanton’s upset Caleb moved out because I asked him to guard Katya. Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner. I don’t blame Stanton for being peeved with me, because I took his baby brother away, when he just got him back.

“Sir.” I inject as much respect as I can muster into that singular word, something I’m not inclined to do often. I am in this man’s home, when said man happens to be Dominion’s lord of the underworld. “I never enter your private space.”

“But you do enter theirs.” Pointing at Wil, Stanton calls me out on my bad behavior.

Shrugging, there’s no sense in denying it. I was curious to see how Wil and Faith’s relationship worked. If they’re busy, I don’t enter. If they’re sleeping, I peek in on them. But I never enter their room. Semantics.

“Stan.” Wil softly admonishes, while wearing a private smirk. “It’s not like we haven’t, you know?” he murmurs, causing Stanton to release a filthy chuckle.

“Welcome, Ezra.” Stanton turns polite, mood rapidly changing from antagonistic to amused. “Please have a seat. Faith is in the kitchen with her sisters. I’ll go fetch her.”

“Like you haven’t what?” I ask, hating how I haven’t a clue what the hell they found so amusing. Being the brunt of a joke is not fun for anyone.

Wil keeps biting his bottom lip to stop from laughing, creepy white eyes glinting with amusement. A happy Wil is a frightening sight, because I know what he’s capable of doing, which is never done in anger. What hardly anyone realizes, he’s the ultimate prankster.

I don’t want to admit Leviticus Wilson is a handsome man, because it makes me jealous how close he and Cort are. Being on my best behavior, I sit on the sofa where Stanton had gestured, then Wil sits across from me on the loveseat. No one touches Stanton’s favorite chair.

“Oh, it’s nothing you need to worry about, Ez.” Wil snorts, which means it’s something I should worry about. “I get why you’re here, and any other time, I would respect you as Zane’s father by giving you and Faith privacy. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but the pregnancy has Pixie a bit–”

“Homicidal.” All snark, Faith enters the living room, then falls into Stanton’s seat– the ultimate antagonizer.

Eyes widening in surprise, I’m rendered speechless by the sight before me. Faith has been a Gothic nightmare since we were sixteen, loathing how she was Gwen’s clone. Blonde, blue-eyed, pink and more pink, that was the girl I used to know. Changing overnight, as she did back then, she does now.

“Whoa…” It’s like a specter stands before me, only the threatening black clothing remains. Badass assassin chic clashes with innocent blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Eh!” Faith grunts. “Don’t make it a big deal, Ez. I wasn’t going to walk around looking like a skunk for the next three months. I’m not entirely sure the black hair dye didn’t harm Zane.” She self-consciously runs her fingertips through her honey blonde hair.

“We color-matched it to Fate’s hair, because I didn’t want to worry about my roots showing. Baby girl didn’t want chemicals being pumped into her protective bubble.” Faith lovingly rubs her baby bump.

“It’s like I’ve been transported back in time.” Mouth agape, all I can do is stare at Faith in awe. “Not to make you feel uncomfortable, but you look beautiful with your natural hair color.” I don’t say soft and feminine, because Faith’s first word upon entering the room was homicidal . “Side-by-side with Fate and Gwen–” I stop myself before I anger Faith.

“Fucking creepy is what it is,” Faith mumbles, but she looks pleased. Glancing toward the kitchen, she rolls her eyes and dramatically groans, then gets up from Stanton’s chair. Must be the man of the house gestured at her from the kitchen, where he’s standing guard and eavesdropping.

Moving, Faith sits next to her husband on the loveseat, neither touching the other. It’s as if just being near the other is enough– they don’t need touch to connect. I’ve only seen them touch a handful of times, when I wasn’t creeping into their bedroom at night, that is. They sleep wrapped around each other like cling wrap.

“Spit it out, Ez.” Faith demands but she’s smiling. “We’re making prime rib and baked potatoes. If I don’t get back in there, Binks will eat it all, and Fate will let her.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Feeling suddenly bashful, I’ve never had the home life Faith has. Besides Cort, I was never close to anyone, not even Aaron and Divina. We never had the rapport that Faith has with her siblings. It’s sweet, and it makes me envious. I want to live like this, where my children are as close as Faith is with her sisters– I want to be Stanton hovering protectively in the doorway.

“Forget it.” Faith brushes it off. “Stan will either help Bianca eat it or stop her, since Fate doesn’t have the balls to tell anyone no. This little one loves pizza, anyway.” She rubs her belly the entire time she talks, drawing tears to my eyes because it reminds me of Katya.

“I’ll be brief.” Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my thighs, clasping my hands between my parted knees. “I want to thank you for providing a home for Katya, especially since I’ve learned her connection to your momma. Cort is angry–”

“Ya fuckin’ think?” Faith snarls, mood flipping on a dime. I’ve always been tempted to offer her a colleague’s business card, because she’s in need of mood stabilizers. “I already had a visit from the big brat last night. If Wil hadn’t stopped me, that sonofabitch would be missing his nuts.”

“I– um…” Stammering, I’m at a loss. “I didn’t know that.”

“Cort was well within his rights.” Wil chastises Faith in a firm tone, always defending Cort. God, I hate that– I’d rather have Faith twist Cort’s testicles than have Wil be his hero. The new me is secretly pleased someone has my man’s back, though.

“Cort is under the impression this was a game play, but I assume it wasn’t. You’ve had your chance time and time again to truly hurt me, yet you didn’t. You did this for Kat, not against us.”

“I did this for you ,” Faith stresses sharply. “I did this for that ungrateful fuck you’re in love with. I did this for Katya. She’s one of my least favorite people, but no one deserves to be a third wheel in a miserable life where she is blind to everything around her. Alone has to be better than that shit!”

“Pixie!” Wil cautions, clenching his wife’s thigh to shut her up. “It was wrong to interfere in their private lives.”

“Wil, we’re having a failure to communicate between us, and I’m getting sick to death of it.” Wil’s death must flash before his eyes. “Your loyalty is admirable, but no woman should be kept purposefully ignorant to protect those who are lying to her. I may not like Katya because she looks so much like Momma, and we all know why that is a trigger for me, but she is a woman and a mother.”

“It wasn’t your place to tell her.” Wil’s fingertips clench harder on Faith’s thigh. “Look what has happened since Christmas Eve. Katya left Ezra. She wouldn’t have if you hadn’t told her everything, then gave her a home. You had no right to interfere.”

“Someone has to put Katya’s welfare above their lies.” That verbal punch was directed at me. “She’s Momma’s niece, and I have my own reparations to make. Stop with this bullshit that it wasn’t my place. Men would behave if women took them to task.”

“Took them to task?” Wil snorts, voice filled with sarcasm.

It’s baffling watching a married couple, who has always shown a united front in public, fight in front of me as if I’m not even here, and they’re fighting over telling my wife all the lies and betrayals I committed.

“Katya deserved to know,” I admit, trying to stop World War III from starting.

“It wasn’t Pixie’s place to tell her– she should have given you a chance to do it yourself, so maybe the outcome wasn’t so destructive.”

“If it affects Zane, it affects all of us.” Faith glares at Wil’s fingers touching her leg. They disappear as fast as they appeared, but the warning look Wil gives Faith screams that if she wasn’t pregnant, he’d be acting differently.

“Um, Wil. You don’t like abuse Faith, do you? I’ll kill you if you do,” is calmly threatened in a cold voice.

“Eh.” Faith snorts as Wil flashes me a wicked grin. “I give as good as I get. But if it comes to blows, it’s a sanctioned match with the kids as our referees. It’s how we work our shit out. Don’t worry about me, Mr. I Choke Cort When He Doesn’t Obey . You know how it is for us dominants. If we can’t bend, we break.”

“I think we should skip dinner,” Wil whispers in Faith’s ear, but I hear it anyway. His pale blue eyes glow with unbridled lust as he tenderly kisses her throat.

Skeeved out, I return to the task at hand. “I want visitation rights to Zane.” My demand throws ice water on the randy couple. “Wil’s name needs to be removed from Zane’s birth certificate as his biological father. Zane’s last name should be Zeitler like the rest of my children.”

Unfazed, they just stare at me. “Cort’s daughter has Marc’s last name?” Faith whispers in surprise. “Wow.”

“We wanted the children to have the same last name. Cortez has been debating changing his last name since the twins were born. Now that we know Julian Abernathy wasn’t a real person, maybe Cort will connect to his birth father. Maybe not. Azrael’s surname is Hunter-Zeitler, which is what Cort has debating changing his name to.”

“Why? Why now, Ez? Why do you want to claim Zane now?” Faith rapid-fires questions my way.

“I’m trying to right my life, and Zane is a huge part of that. I haven’t gone a day without seeing Zane. Even when you thought I wasn’t around, I still saw Zane. Every single day of his life. I. Am. Zane’s. Father.”

“No one will debate that fact,” Faith allows, but she’s not too happy about it.

“I appreciate Wil being in our son’s life as a positive influence. But I liken Leviticus Wilson’s name on my son’s birth certificate as if Cortez’s should be there. They are father figures, but not Zane’s father. I Am!” I demand in a voice I’ve never heard before– even I cower at the commanding tone spilling from my chest.

“If you want to know how painful it is for me to have Wil listed as Zane’s father, imagine Katya’s name on Zane’s birth certificate as the birth mother instead of yours, Faith–”

“Don’t even go there!” My death is written in Faith’s gaze, but she gets my point.

“Everything okay in here?” Stanton sticks his head out the kitchen entryway.

“Yes, I apologize for getting heated.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Stanton disappears. “I-I– I integrated recently, and I never realized how much Master Ez was a part of me. This territorial bullshit takes a lot to get used to. I don’t feel like the Ez I was when I believed myself to be even. I have Ezra’s good qualities and all of Master Ez’s dominant qualities. To say it’s discombobulating is an understatement.”

“Holy fuck, Ez!” Faith gives a sharp whistle, face glowing with relief. “Congrats!”

“Thanks,” is bashfully murmured. “Sorry about that. I’m a bit raw right now, like my nerves are being stimulated continuously.”

“Is this where all the life changes are coming from– the integration?” Wil asks out of curiosity.

“I have no idea, because I don’t know what’s up or down anymore. I’m just doing what feels right and praying it’s for the right reasons. I just want to make Cort happy, and for our kids to feel like they have a supportive family.”

Getting choked up, I turn to the side to hide how overemotional I’ve been for the past few days. Surreptitiously wiping tears away, I try to get a handle on my emotions.

“Wil, Zane knows you love him, and I will never take that away from either of you. But he must have a place in our family, alongside his siblings.” Gesturing at Faith’s budding belly, I hammer my point home. “How would you like another man’s name on baby Brooke’s birth certificate?”

“I’d kill the man,” Wil mutters in a voice reminiscent of a serial killer.

“You see my point.” Heart beating erratically, panic is pushing me into fight or flight responses. “It bothers the fuck out of me how you’re Cortez’s enforcer partner. Fuck! I hate it. Drives me mad. The jealousy. The envy. The possession. I hate Cortez having a bond or friendship that has nothing to do with me. Then you look at him, defend him, and I want to cut your dick off. I finally get why Cort wants to strangle Faith so badly.”

“Nice…” Wil drawls, chest rising and falling as he silently laughs at my crazy behavior. “Territorial is an understatement.”

“It’s a wonder I haven’t committed patricide,” is grumbled underneath my breath.

“There’s still time.” Faith flexes her self-deprecating dark humor, being as both people she executed were members of her own family. “When you’re finally settled and have time for the legalities, we’ll change Zane’s birth certificate. But the surname Zane uses will be up to him, okay?”

“Yeah, I like that. Zane’s old enough to have autonomy over something so crucial. An identity of his choosing.” Rubbing a hand over my head, I’m feeling embarrassed over my outburst. “Just send me the bill for Katya’s rent. Her bills are my responsibility. If Katya wants to keep the house, I’ll buy it for her and give it to her in the divorce settlement.”

Faith whistles sharply again. “Fuck,” she whispers in awe. “You’re doing it.” She claws my shirt, grabbing the front to draw me forward over the coffee table. With a peck to my cheek, she smiles against my skin. “Good for you, Ez. Good for you!”

“Thanks,” I mutter, blushing like a sonofabitch.

“I’m proud of you. Awesome. Progress. Now some other schmuck has to put up with Kat’s bitchy ass,” Faith taunts, causing Wil to choke on a bark of laughter for some reason.

Wil catches my gaze, silently communicating with me for a suspended second, and I understand why he found Faith’s insult so amusing. Wil smirks, because his wife is in for a rude awakening if my plan goes off without a hitch. Faith will be homicidal when she gets wind of this.

Wil and Caleb are almost as tightly bound as Cortez and I are, but in a brotherly sense. Squinting my eyes, I try to get a read on the man, and he returns with a look that speaks volumes.

Roarke was right about Caleb’s infatuation with my wife. What did I do?

“We’ll blame that comment on the pregnancy hormones and mood swings.” Wil tries to smooth over the insult, hoping Faith didn’t notice the look we shared.

Feeling territorial again, simultaneously happy and angry that I placed Caleb in Katya’s house, I’m unable to stop myself from lashing out. “I want the codes– I won’t leave until I have them.”

“What codes?” Confused, Wil looks between Faith and me.

“I’ll drag your sister out here and beat it out of her,” I viciously threaten. “I will try not to enter the house, but I need to know I can if necessary. You have no idea the panic attack I suffered last night, petrified Katya wasn’t safe, and I couldn’t get in to save her.”

“What the fuck, Ezra?” Wil growls, preparing to save Fate from my unexpected wrath.

“The alarm codes,” Faith says in answer. “Fate doesn’t have them, just so you know. But I’ll give them up. Wil’s right on one thing– it’s your private business. If you want to stalk your own wife, no doubt pissing her off even more, more power to ya. None of my business.”

Faith walks over to a desk, quickly jots down a series of numbers on a business card, then hands the card to me. “Lovely talking to ya as always, Ez. But you’ve worn out your welcome. I’m hungry and irritable.”

“And that’s different than any other day, how?” I thought it, but Wil had the balls to say it.

Biding her time to deal with Wil in private, Faith ignores the comment. “I won’t apologize for aiding in Katya leaving you. You all needed the reality check. Women’s empowerment and self-respect and all that jazz. But I will apologize for all the bad things I said about your wife, but only after I get the nerve to tell Katya in person. I will even allow you to have unlimited access to your son. But if you ever– and I mean ever –threaten my blood again…” she trails off, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Pregnancy always makes Pixie homicidal,” is Wil’s version of an apology as he escorts me to the door. With no estrogen in the room, he turns back into a bro, patting my back in an affectionate touch.

“Faith only killed one person while pregnant, and it was less than a week after conception– I would know. It was my seed, and I was in on the murder conspiracy with Faith and Stanton. I highly doubt a pregnancy hormones defense would have held up in court.”

“Isn’t it better to blame hormones than admit my wife’s a ruthless bitch?” Grinning, Wil slaps my back forcefully, causing me to stumble out into the hallway. “We all have a type. You. Me. Our buddy, Caleb.” After shutting the door in my face, Wil’s anticipatory cackles roll down my spine.