Page 38 of Integrated (Mistress & Master of Restraint #11)
“Would you like a ring?” I ask out of curiosity. The past few hours are crashing down on me in a wave of exhaustion. Hell, the past few weeks… months… years… decades… since Cortez’s birth.
Hey, but at least I’m driving my own SUV for once.
“Just because I admitted I was gay, and you were the one to ask me to marry you, it doesn’t mean I’m a girl.” Sounding extremely offended, Cort sits in the passenger seat as I drive us home from Restraint. “Is it because I work from home and will be taking care of the kids and cooking and stuff?”
“It’s not a boy or girl thing, a straight or gay thing, or a who asked whom thing.” Perturbed that Cort is insecure and feeling emasculated, he reminds me too much of Katya right now for sanity’s sake. “Jesus, all those tasks you do are necessary– it’s called life. I’d just like to know if you’d like a ring. I’m not asking if you want a princess-cut rock, twit.” I’ll resort to relentlessly teasing a sulking Cortez if I have to. “I don’t know– infinity bands or something before we marry.”
“Don’t you do that as part of the wedding ceremony?” Roarke puts his two cents in from the backseat. Relaxed and in a fine mood after his blowjob, he got into the back without complaint.
“What are you doing back there?” Cort asks out of curiosity, turning as far as his seatbelt will allow. “You’re playing Farmville, aren’t you? No way you’d give up driving otherwise. You got 4G on that dang tablet?”
“I’m about to stage an intervention for Roarke. I’m shocked he turned his tablet off long enough to get a blowjob tonight.” Smirking like a sonofabitch at Roarke through the rearview mirror, I’m pretty sure he was fantasizing about crops and chickens while the woman was bobbing his knob.
“Don’t diss the game,” Roarke warns. “I have five hundred Facebook friends who might get offended.”
“Are you playing that game you send me an invite to like five times a day?” Cort’s deflecting and evading our conversation, but since this is light, teasing fun, I allow it. “I finally had to block the requests. I am not playing Farmville 2– I have no need to escape to the country or an island paradise, or whatever corny name it’s called.”
“Humph… you don’t know what you’re missing,” Roarke murmurs, no doubt immersed in his game. He must have the tablet on silent, because I sometimes dream of animal sounds after listening to it all damn day.
“Dude, you’re two hundred pounds of pure muscle, did you somehow forget that? Your hobbies should be badass– get a motorcycle, or at least play a real video game with guns and blood. Nope, you plant crops and raise farm animals.” Cort snickers at the ridiculousness.
“I also enforce a deadly game that goes against my core belief system, as not only a retired police officer but a human being. I watch my elder twenty-four/seven, who until recently was one insane, badass motherfucker. I need to do something that is goal-based and is about hope and growth, not tearing down and death. Farmville soothes me.”
“Sorry,” mutters from the passenger seat. Feeling like an ass, Cortez apologizes while sinking lower in his seat so Roarke can’t see him from the back.
Insult already forgotten, Roarke offers a suggestion. “You should have Whitt tattoo your fingers like he did for Dexter and Monica. Make it as permanent as possible.”
“That was my plan. It’s why I suggested a ring of some type as an engagement declaration. Besides, I think I will have my name tattooed on Cort’s forehead.”
Relentlessly teasing Cortez is my New Year’s resolution.
“Not happening.” Cort pouts from his seat, still upset that he unintentionally insulted Roarke. Cort is a kind, pure soul, which is why he balances out the darkness in mine. “But I’m not against having it tattooed on my dick.”
“TMI!” Roarke shouts from the backseat. “I just got done watching you get cornholed– that’s too much of a visual when I’m too sensitive to suggestion.”
“Cornholed? Pervert, could you be any more offensive?” Cort snarls, catching on that Roarke burned him back for the Farmville baiting. “Like you didn’t enjoy the view.”
“I didn’t say it was nasty, just that I preferred not to have seen it. Some things are private. If I had a choice, I would’ve chosen not to know what your orgasm face looks like.”
“Sorry.” It’s my turn to apologize. “I got caught up in the moment.”
“Getting caught up in the moment is finishing what you’ve started, not dragging Cort to several stations while growling MINE! ” Roarke loudly shouts, mocking me. “That was definitely premeditated.”
“Well, I feel much more relaxed now, thank you very much.” Blushing so brightly, my skin flashes hot. “I think you were the only one who wasn’t enjoying themselves. I had to keep batting Kristal’s hands away.”
“I’m pretty sure Kris shoved her tongue in my ear at one point,” Cort whispers with a shudder.
“Cort, that tongue has been on every inch of your skin– thousands of times… and now you think it’s gross?” Roarke taunts. “Personally, Kris is the best lay I’ve ever had.”
I allow my mind to wander as Roarke and Cort banter back and forth about the prowess of every member of Restraint. I feel terrible that I asked Cort to spend the rest of his life with me while I hold the most important bit of information back from him. I just need to confirm my suspicions before I get his hopes up.
What if Julio isn’t even related to Cortez? What if they are brothers and their father is dead? Maybe Julio’s parents are his birth mother and his stepfather. I cannot imagine how painful that would be for Cortez to learn who is father is, only to discover he has passed from this earth. I must be certain before I tell him.
Remembering what night of the year it is– well, early morning –it’s not difficult to locate Gwen, especially since she’s borderline agoraphobic, which is why it was such a big deal when she came to Misery Castle for the Christmas meeting. I believe the only reason she was able was simply because she resided there for a few months before Whitt’s conception.
We behave as Robert motions us through the security gate, waving us on by with a tip of his hat, with Roarke offering promises of donuts for breakfast later. Robert will do anything for donuts.
As I drive through Crestview Drive toward Shadow Haven, Katya’s house makes me feel sad yet hopeful. Wrapping my fingers around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, I barely force myself to drive on by, knowing Katya and all four of my children are inside that house right now.
“What the fuck?!” Two voices rise in unison as I lay on the brakes so forcefully the SUV leaves long, black tire marks on the street.
Putting the black beast into reverse, I quickly back up and swing into a driveway that looks just like all the others.
“Why are we at Meyers Manor?” Roarke grumbles. “HEY! You made me accidentally sell my limited-edition holiday reindeer. You can only get one,” he whines, heartbroken. “Do you have any idea how many neighbors I had to get to help me with the mission? Goddamnit, I can’t redo the mission.” Roarke sounds wicked pissed, but I could give a shit less.
“Sorry.” I absentmindedly apologize anyway, purely out of habit. Contrition is what I’m known for, after all.
“Why are we here, Ez?” Cort asks while eyeing Roarke, who suspiciously looks like he’s going to cry while staring at his tablet.
“Um…” I stammer, trying to think of a reason I’d visit Gwen, then come up empty. “To see if Wil is here?”
“Was that a question? You don’t ever talk to Wil, and why would he be here at three in the morning?” Cort slowly asks like I’m insane. “
“Wishing his mother-in-law Happy New Year?” I pull out of nowhere.
“You suck at whatever secrecy you’ve got going on, my brother.” Roarke drawls out from the backseat. “I’m still wicked pissed at you about my reindeer. I want a few fifty-dollar Zynga cards as compensation.”
“Fair enough,” I agree as I unhook my seatbelt and prepare to get out of the car. “I’ll be out in a little while. Maybe Roarke would like to show you his game,” I say to a very stressed out Cort. “You could use some soothing.”
Silently laughing to myself, I watch as Roarke eagerly climbs over the seat with his tablet in hand, while wearing a predatory expression on his face. Cort stares at our friend in wide-eyed horror, like Roarke is a Jehovah’s Witness on the other side of an atheist’s open door… poor Cortez.
I stride up the walk to Meyers Manor, hopeful that Gwen has good news for me. Also thankful I’m a founder, otherwise her house would be off limits to me.
… a half hour and a few secrets I’ll take to the grave later, I have all the confirmation needed.
“Why are you blushing so hard?” Roarke calls me out from the cracked window, sprawled in my seat, with an emotionally drained Cort seated next to him. “You’ve got naughty thoughts in your head.”
“I’m at level five already.” Cort wiggles his cellphone in my line of sight, showing off a budding farm. With an assist, the consummate evader changes the subject, sensing I can’t talk about whatever I discovered. “It’s your fault– you distracted me with Roarke, and now I’m addicted. Already bought a new player introductory package. It was cheap too!”
After ordered to bear five children with men she didn’t choose, I will never breathe a word of who Gwen chose for herself. Let’s just say, I got an eyeful and leave it at that.
“Don’t think I missed how you didn’t answer my questions.” Roarke calls me out yet again, just as my good hand tugs open the back door. “But I’ll forgive you, since Cort will play Farmville with me now.”