Page 30 of Integrated (Mistress & Master of Restraint #11)

“What’s up with your hand?” Cort asks me for the tenth time as we sit on the sofa in the living room. I pretend to watch a Harry Potter marathon instead of mulling over my father’s lifelong manipulations, Grant’s written words scrolling through my mind.

While I obsess about things I cannot change, my man is obsessed with book-to-movie adaptations. The worst by far are Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, by the sheer volume of hours they encompass, because Cort makes us watch them as marathons. They make Gone with the Wind feel like a blink of an eye. Don’t get me started on those five vampire movies Cort loves to watch with the girls. I can empathize with Edward who Sparkles, I love to creep into bedrooms to watch people in their sleep too.

“Nothing is wrong with my hand,” is a surly mutter, the pain getting the best of me, as I pretend I’m not nursing three broken bones and a cracked knuckle.

I’ve never struck a person before, but come to find out, I’m not the only one nursing injuries. Marcus has a fissure in his zygomatic bone. AKA his cheekbone.

After I punched Marcus, I immediately felt the physical pain and the emotional remorse. While Roarke was sitting with me in the emergency room, Grant strolled in, dragging an in-need-of-patching-up Marcus behind him.

“Hmm… I don’t have any magical abilities like Harry, but the cast gives away your lie.” As the exclamation point on his statement, Cortez glances at the cast extended from my fingertips to mid-forearm.

Ignoring Cort’s insistent questioning, I change the subject. “You know what would be entertaining? Watching teenagers kill each other in an arena– how about the Hunger Games? Even better, the newest Jane Eyre. You know how Michael Fassbender playing Mr. Rochester gets me all hot and bothered.”

“Fine, be that way.” Cort sighs, sounding extremely exhausted by my refusal to answer. “But I don’t feel in the mood tonight. I may stay up and watch Lonesome Dove and Return to Lonesome Dove.”

“Fuck me, Cort! Why don’t ya just play the entire Stephen King collection while you’re at it?” Snarling, I can’t seem to get a handle on my emotional state. Raw and wounded, nothing can soothe me right now. “I’d rather watch horror than westerns.”

“Tell me what’s going on, and I’ll put on Dexter or True Blood instead. They’re from books too. It’s your call, torture or hot men?”

“Perhaps I’m embarrassed, and I don’t want you to think me a twit.” My admission is softly murmured.

I promised myself to stop acting on impulse, and what’s the first thing I do? I hit Marcus minutes after I offer an apology he refused. What a horrible trend to set.

“Ezra, I’ve seen you in every compromising position known to man.” Cort sounds highly amused, no doubt there is a montage of my failings playing out in his mind. “If I didn’t think you were a twit before, I’m not going to start now.”

“Ez punched Marcus.” Katya speaks from behind us, causing me to jump a foot off the sofa to bang my wrist on Cort’s thigh.

“Oh, motherfucker!” Whimpering in stops and starts, the pounding, throbbing pain radiates up my arm. “I should have said yes to the narcotics. Oh, fuck me! Oh, cut it off. Cut if off at the shoulder!” Crying out, I do the pain dance in the middle of my living room.

“Are you okay?” Katya asks, sounding so concerned that I want to break another bone since I don’t deserve the woman’s sympathy. Better yet, I’ll hand her a hammer to do the job herself.

“I’ll be fine in about six weeks, and as long as it’s not cold out or raining,” is sarcastically muttered. “Revenge for never breaking a bone, never getting struck, never taking a hit of any kind. I’m a thirty-three-year-old man who has never even suffered a cut or splinter. Three broken bones and a cracked knuckle fucking suck after a lifetime of being a spoiled pansy-ass. For the first time ever, I curse my sheltered life.”

“Wow!” Cort snorts, trying hard not to laugh at me since I’m in pain. His gorgeous lips twist up at the corners, gray eyes sparkling with amusement. Instead of being angry, I smile at Cort, just barely holding myself back from kissing the naughty smirk right off his lips.

“Marcus said you were stronger than me, Cort. But I didn’t believe him until this.” I hold up my arm as proof. “You’ve been broken and put back together many times, and nary a complaint. And you can tell Master Asshole no when I cannot.”

“What happened?” Cort mutters in awe, looking at me like he’s never seen me before.

I stop my pain-filled jig, then walk up to Katya, saying a little prayer she won’t hit me. “My deepest apologies from the bottom of my soul, for every hurt I’ve indirectly and directly caused you. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I want you to know I’m listening to you. I hear you .”

Anger flashes over her pale face, green eyes narrowed at the corners. “Don’t,” Katya whispers, and I loathe how broken she sounds. More so, Kat looks broken. Her magnificent hair is tied in a knot on top of her head. Not even combed, the snarls are obvious with how ratted her hair appears to be. The clothes she wears are several sizes too large, hiding her womanly figure beneath wool and denim. Grooves line her forehead and around her eyes, when Katya was wrinkle-free just a few days ago, as if she’s struggling to hold back an immense depth of physical pain.

“I understand why you don’t wish to hear an apology from me, because I cannot give you closure until I’ve accepted all I’ve done. I’ll apologize for how Marcus treated you. No man should ever repeatedly do that to a woman. He didn’t say exactly what he’d done to you a few weeks ago, but he gave me an abbreviated version of your conversation. No wife should ever have her father-in-law offer that level of disrespect. My apologies because I am the one who brought Marcus into your life.”

“I was with Regina when she got the text from Jamie.” Just as I’d expected, Katya doesn’t acknowledge my apology. “Did you hit Marcus because of me, or for some other reason?”

Katya glares into my eyes, daring me, challenging me to go ahead and try to lie to her. No worries, no need for conflict, because the truth as I know it will flow from my lips. Defiance shines from Katya’s eyes and I long to say atta girl!

“I punched Marcus for a myriad of reasons, but it was his confession over what he did to you, how he laughed over how heinously I’ve treated you, that all combined to make me snap. I take full responsibility over my actions, but it was Marc’s job to stop me when I couldn’t stop myself. Not only did Marcus watch me ruin us– you –he purposefully helped me along by setting up roadblocks and traps as obstacles along the way. I can never apologize enough, so I’m just going to tell you that I see it all with clear eyes now.”

“I-I can’t. I-I’m not ready yet.” Katya stumbles over the words, tears shining in her eyes, as her bottom lip trembles. “You have no idea how it felt when Marcus told me I was worthless,” she whispers the confession so quietly, I barely hear her.

Cortez gasps, shocked beyond measure, because he’s only had a taste of how Marcus is behaving lately. The powder room incident has Cort believing anything we say and not defending Marcus as he would have done before.

“Marcus didn’t use that exact word, but it’s what he meant. He said I was just a tool, a means to an end, and the end was you and Cort living a happy life with my children. He told me to leave, to go back to Pennsylvania. Alone . Without my children. Marcus gloated over how no one respects me, how they don’t want me here, because I’m an interloper.”

“Oh, fuck!” is gasped out, while my mind furiously spins on how to fix this shit. Last week, maybe even yesterday, I would have defended Marcus and not believed Katya, but a few of those words are the same as he spoke earlier.

There is no trust between us, which is why Katya never came to me in the past or the present when someone spoke to her in such a manner, assuming I’d most likely side with them against her.

“Katya, no. None of that is true– not that I believe Marcus over you, but that Cort and I do not feel that way. I can’t imagine a life without you–”

“ We all need you .” Cortez begs as he rounds the sofa to stand near Katya. Cort puts words to the emotions I feel. “Our children need their mother.”

“Marcus is partially right.” Katya turns to Cort, movements sluggish and without her usual grace and fluidity. “I need to say this to both of you.” With a deep breath, she gains the courage to continue. “I didn’t give up. I didn’t fight, not because I thought I was worthless, or that Ezra wasn’t worth it, or that I knew I wouldn’t stand a chance. I walked away because it was the right thing to do for everyone. As easy as it would be to go home to my parents and leave this torment all behind, I’m not a coward nor weak. I work hard because nothing worth having is ever easy.”

My hand raises to touch my wife, but it immediately drops to my side when I think the better of it. I’m not the person to offer Katya comfort. How could she willingly accept comfort from the man who harmed her the most? I can’t imagine how confusing it must be for Katya. Distancing myself, I finally see the classic signs of an abuse victim.

I am Katya’s abuser, no doubt about it.

“Even if I still trusted them, I couldn’t flee to my parents’ home, because I refuse to leave my children behind. I am at fault for allowing you all to treat me this way, accepting it as normal. I kept quiet, allowing it to spiral out of control, when I could have walked away.”

“Kat, no.” Cortez doesn’t have the same issue I do. He readily takes Katya’s hand in his, twining their fingers together in solidarity. “None of this is your fault. None. Of. It.”

“It is.” Katya squeezes Cort’s fingers then drops his hand. “Other than that, why should I run away like a coward when I’ve done nothing wrong? Why should I do as they say, putting me in a catch-22, where then they can call me a horrible mother for abandoning my children. I won’t lose everything because people need to look at me like I’m a horrible person to erase their own sins. That’s their problem, not mine. They’ll lose out on knowing me, and they weren’t worth my time in the first place if they’re too blind to see the truth.”

“What did Marcus really say to you? What did he do to you?” I quickly mutter, trying to get it out before Katya says anything else.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Caleb leaning in the doorway to our living room. Cortez steps away, leaving Katya and me in a bubble of privacy. Cort stands next to Caleb, looking like he’s been punched in the gut by a jackhammer.

“Let’s just say that the next man who touches me in any way is losing a dick.” Katya viciously snarls, eyes glowing with fury. “I may have allowed you to make me feel like a whore, treat me like a whore, and accept acting like a whore. But months ago, I decided I was better than that. So when Marcus tried to treat me as such, I made a promise to myself. I don’t care if I go a lifetime without touch, because it will be too soon.”

“Kitten.” Cort softly admonishes, as he steps forward. A braver man than me, he gently rubs Katya’s back. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I? Because I’m pretty sure I do.” Katya defiantly whispers, stepping out of Cort’s reach. “I told you the truth, Ez. Never have I been touched by a man I chose. Not even a kiss. I’m taking back control of my body. The next person who tries to violate me in any fashion is dead to me.” Katya threatens, being completely serious. “So thank you for gifting me Gunner, because I may need help disposing of one of your relatives in the near future,” Katya wryly murmurs without a lick of sarcasm.

“I know this is private, but I don’t leave Katya’s side.” Caleb cautiously speaks from his post in the doorway. “Which was a good idea with how Regina was acting today at lunch, as well as when I had to step in and warn Spyder and Ava that if they didn’t behave, I was going to make them do pushups in the middle of the restaurant. Personally, I wouldn’t let those girls near each other for at least a month, or longer.”

Ignoring Caleb for the moment, I need my earlier question answered. “What did Marcus do?” I demand of Katya.

“Whatever the fuck he wants. He’s Marcus fucking Zeitler, isn’t he?” Katya mutters in a cold voice, shrugging it off. “Marcus was testing me, as always. He didn’t want me, nor was he going to go through with it. It’s always about control with that bastard. Marcus has never wanted me in any capacity. He just groped me, then tried to force me to touch him back, which I denied him both. But Marcus was being dead serious when he offered to find me a lover if I left you alone and walked away.”

“What?!” Caleb voices for all of us. Cort is seething, and I’m frozen with shock.

“Marcus offered for me to take my pick of whichever men he procured, saying he could easily order them to do me. It was a grave insult, insinuating sex is all I care about, and that I’m so undesirable and disgusting that no man would ever want me for me. When I called him out on the insults, he couldn’t answer me, honestly never seeing how the offer would appear from my view. When Marcus tried to touch me, I kneed him in the nuts, then when he doubled over in pain, I kneed him in his smug fucking face.”

“That’s why Regina was pissy towards you today?” Caleb asks out of curiosity, taking over the conversation, like there’s things Cortez and I don’t know. “She’s pissed her fiancé came onto you, and you had to get physical to get him to leave you alone?”

“No.” Katya shrugs, then winces sharply for some reason. “Regina has her reasons for acting strangely today, which is why we need to speak to Ava.” Katya cryptically mutters. “In truth, Regina and Syn just hate me for no other reason than because they can.”

“They don’t hate you.” Cort lamely attempts to reassure and comfort Katya. It takes everything in me not to ask Cortez what planet he’s living on.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Kat says to Cort with a glare. Insulted, she steps out of the range of Cortez’s touch. “Regina said this to me in front of our children, my sister-in-law, and her own children. “I’m glad your arrogance has finally deflated, and you now realize you’re worth nothing, that you were never good enough to be with Cortez and Ezra. They were meant to be together. It’s about time they threw you away.” And that was the nicest comment I received from her today.”

“Did Regina actually say that?” I mutter in disbelief, eyes flicking toward Caleb for confirmation. It’s not that I don’t believe Katya, I’m just struggling to believe Regina has fallen so far.

“Oh, no shock there– you never did believe a goddamn word out of my whore of a mouth.” Katya snarls as she stalks away from us to sit on the sofa. “And you wonder why I never told you anything that happened to me on a daily basis. There ya go– that’s why.”

“I ended the outing when Regina asked Katya if she was purposely raising Azrael to be a sociopathic cunt like her big sister, Ava.” Caleb drops this like a live grenade in the middle of our living room.

“Regina kept begging Katya to forgive her, for what, I have no idea. Until Regina ended up creating a scene at the pizza place and we had to leave. She was unhinged, screaming about forgiveness when we were on the sidewalk. The only thing that stopped her was when Grant sent a text to say you all were at the ER after a fight.”

“Katya, what did Regina mean by that?” I question Katya, but she turns her face away, ignoring me, shutting everyone out and refusing to answer.

“I know Regina well. We work very well together at Restraint. I’ve watched as she interacts with members of Whittenhower Estates. Everyone sees Regina as benevolent and kind, which she is. The same goes with Syn– I know Syn better than anyone, seeing her as my sister. They are good, ethical women, but when it comes to Katya, they are like feral lionesses hellbent on tearing out throats. It’s irrational, and they do it when no one is listening. The problem for them is that the security staff is always listening, and we’ve lost faith in our bosses over the past few months. And Ez, you should know that most of us hate you right now.”

“Dully noted,” is muttered in defeat as I walk over to join Katya. Deciding against sitting next to her on the sofa when she gives me a death glare, I park my ass on the loveseat.

“Where are Ava and the twins?” I ask my sullen and silent wife.

“Part one of Ava’s punishment, I’m forcing her to do the twins’ nightly ritual. After which, she is to join us for a little chat. It’s why I came in here. I thought you said you wanted to have a talk with our daughter.”

“I do.”

“Well, we are,” Katya demands. “Which means I’m joining you. You’ve tainted her enough with your insane parental practices.”

Cort sits next to me, and I can sense he’s very upset. Moments ago, Caleb was quickly and quietly whispering to Cortez about something, and I need to know what was said.

“I’m staying.” Caleb declares as he sits next to Katya on the sofa. “It’s my duty to be the eyes and ears of our Game Master, and Ava is a major concern. Impressive, the child has more power than most adults.”

“Whatever,” Cort mumbles, looking green around the edges. “After what you just told me, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You wanted the truth,” Caleb challenges.