by Belle Aurora
Oh. I see. She remembered.
My jaw steeled.
I glanced at Julius, who now looked at me curiously, then licked my lips and spoke just as quietly, averting my eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
From my place in the center of the room, I saw Julius go from confused to complete awareness, and when he closed his eyes and sighed, I knew he was caught up. “It was you.” Yeah, it was. “You called me that night.” Guilty, brother.
“You killed him,” the little woman breathed out because the words were too hard to speak at volume.
I did. I killed Maxim Nikulin.
Ignoring Julius, I spoke to her, directly to her, because she needed to hear it. “Fuck, yeah, I did. Do it again in a heartbeat. Motherfucker was hard over your bleeding face, girl.” My lip curled. “He got off lightly. Mad I didn’t have the time to give him what he really deserved. Sad, because I would’ve enjoying delivering it.”
She swallowed hard, and then let out a hushed, “I knew it was you. I thought I was going crazy,” along with a soft, vindicated smile.
I shook my head, lips thin, rubbing the back of my neck and avoiding all eye contact.
She wasn’t crazy, but by all means, she should have been, going through what she did. I wouldn’t judge if she had been.
“I wanted to die.” The words were peaceful, still in the air.
I didn’t blame her. Part of me wanted to put her out of her misery that night. She looked too damaged to heal. “Yeah, I get that. Sorry I couldn’t let it happen.”
Ana’s soft smile transformed her entire face. She was a pretty one, beautiful actually. I mean, not Lexi beautiful, but she had something about her. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Like, really. Don’t mention it. Ever again.
I felt uncomfortable with praise I didn’t earn, and taking out Maxim Nikulin was not something to be admired for. I should’ve done it years ago before he ever got to her. And now, she looked like she did, unable to speak without shaking like a damn leaf.
No. She should not be thanking me.
A moment of awkward silence passed before Julius stood, coming over to his wife, taking her hand before heading for the door. Before they left, I called out, “We ever gonna talk about this?”
Before he shut the door, he replied, “Yeah, when I don’t wanna kill you myself, asshole.”
I inwardly grinned. That was a good sign.
With a sigh, I turned to face Happy, who looked fucking dismal. “You get in touch with your Romeo and Juliet?”
He shook his head slowly and murmured, “Nah.”
“Stay here as long as you need to, bro.”
Happy’s face turned slowly and he scowled. “Damn right I’mma stay here as long as I need to. You’re the reason I’m in this shit, you erratic fuck.” He stood, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge. “I could be at home, having a nice quiet night fucking my girl or being sucked off by my guy, but no.” He popped a beer and took a pull. “Twitch decides it’s time, and, by God, it’s fucking time because Twitch says so. Fuck everyone else and whatever chaos it causes because you got the discretion of a lit stick of dynamite.”
My glower was strong. I held up my index finger. “You only get one pass and that was it. Remember that.”
As he walked into the spare bedroom, he flipped me the bird and that glower deepened.
Prick.
I didn’t know how late it was when I climbed in through the window, but I just needed to be near her.
Lexi knew I was there. I know this because when the bed depressed with my weight, her body braced and she stopped breathing a second. And even though her back was to me, I felt calmer being within arm’s reach of my woman, regardless of how she felt about me.
I could deal with a lot. I could deal with sadness. I could deal with anger. But this ignoring me business, I didn’t dig that.
The quietness was starting to bug me. I decided to make a statement, albeit a quiet one. “I told you I’d come back for you. Both of you.”
The silence was broken by the sudden hitching breath, and then the bed shook with the force of her soundless cries. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, and comfort her. I wanted to remind her of how well we fit, but now was not the time. When Lexi came to me, she would do it willingly. I would not take any more from this woman, not when she had already given me so much.
When she managed to regain control of herself, she wiped her nose with her sleeve before sniffling, “Get out.”
And I did.
Not because I wanted to, but because I owed her that much.
Chapter Twelve
Lexi
Why?
I didn’t understand.
Why, goddamn it?
As I showered, my sadness seemed to ebb, slipping down the drain by my feet with the sudsy water. My outer shell had cracked, broken, wide and gaping, and the inner part of me was no better. My soul shattered, my spirit was battered, and I hated him for that.
I washed my hair slowly, carefully, taking solace in the peace the warm water trickling over me brought. But it didn’t last long.
Oh my God.
My heart began to race.
How could he?
My chest ached painfully and my throat tightened with anger, fury, and resentment.
How could he?
I closed my eyes and lifted my face into the spray, trying in vain to steady my breathing. Jesus Christ. I could barely take in a full breath. I was fuming. My jaw tight, I switched off the water and stepped out, toweling off my body then my hair.
From my place in front of the bathroom mirror, my entire being stilled when I heard him. “Morning, bud. Ready for school?”
So domestic. So familiar. As if he belonged here.
My lip curled.
How dare he?
My teeth ground as I slipped into my panties and bra. Sliding on black sweats and a tight gray spaghetti strap tank, I ran my fingers through my wet hair and threw open the bathroom door, stepping out into the hall barefoot and catching Twitch helping A.J. put his backpack on.
When those soft brown eyes met mine, he watched me a second before slapping a light hand on A.J.’s shoulder, squeezing. “I think Mom’s feeling better, bud.”
No, she wasn’t, you fucking asshole.
Molly watched me carefully, and when I met her weary gaze and whispered a rough, “Get him out of here,” she took A.J.’s hand before looking between the two adults in the room, one of which simply stood there, his lips drawn into a thin line, while the other had murder in her eyes.
As my son passed me, I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him with everything I had in me before forcing a smile. “Have a good day, honey. I love you.”
But A.J. was a smart child and he hesitated, before asking a reluctant, “Are you mad at Daddy?”
I didn’t want to lie to him. I never had before, so I looked up at Twitch, looked him dead in his beautiful eyes, the same eyes that haunted my dreams for years, and stated a cold, “Yes, I am. And Daddy”—the word was sour on my tongue and made my stomach flip with unconcealed dread—“and I are going to talk about that.”
Molly led a concerned-looking A.J. out of the house, and the moment the door shut, I faltered, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do.
Twitch stood in the wide kitchen entrance, looking down at his feet, his jaw tight, and I took that moment to roam him.
Why?
Why were the years apart so kind to him when he didn’t deserve it? Why did he have to look the way he did?
He was dressed in dark fitted jeans that hugged his long legs, a tight black long-sleeved tee that showed off his broad chest and shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing his veiny, tattooed forearms. My throat tightened in a way that cut off my air supply.
It was so cruel. In my mind, I’d imagined him a thousand times looking just as he was right now, only in my dreams, I was happy to see him. A far cry from how I felt at t
he present.
Running a hand through his too-long hair, he paused to scratch as the too-long stubble on his sharp jaw and peeked up at me through his lowered gaze. His nose was swollen, and the purple bands under his eyes told me Julius hadn’t held back when he tore into him, and that pleased me. He ran a nervous tongue across his full bottom lip, his hands clenching then unclenching in a move that told me he might have been anxious, but I didn’t know for sure. This man had always been good at hiding his true emotions.
If he wasn’t anxious, he should have been.
When he spoke, I wanted to kill him myself. “I missed you.”
The intense fury that lit in my belly was warm but soon raged into a fiery inferno. I found the fucking words.
My voice was quiet, giving off false calm. “You missed me?”
Oh, no, he did not. I know he did not try it.
A single step closer, a whole new level of rage. “You missed me?” Another step, another internal meltdown. Eyes wild, I whispered, “Is that what you said just now? You missed me?”
My heart was beating so fast I thought I might be having a heart attack. It wouldn’t have surprised me, given the circumstances. It was already broken anyways, so what was a malfunction to boot?
Twitch looked me right in the eye, that smooth whiskey voice floating over me as I seethed. “That’s what I said, baby.”
My neck began to heat with raw fury. My hands shook, and when I took the final step over to him, I looked up into his face and blinked at the gall of this man.
When I lifted my hand, reared back, and slapped him across the cheek as hard I could, the sound echoed in the open space surrounding us. He barely flinched, and that only made me madder. Panting, I grit my teeth, raised my hand, and put as much force behind it as I could. When the loud crack sounded, my soul celebrated the way he winced from the blow.
My palms pulsed and prickled from the sheer force of the cracks. The pain was a welcome change to what I’d been feeling the last couple days. It was nice to feel something other than numb.
Suddenly, his broken nose started to bleed again and I reared back once more, lip curling, eyes wide, but before I could hit him another time, he caught my wrist, gripping it tightly in his grasp, staring at me penetratingly. “I’m sorry.” He gently ran his thumb over my thumping pulse and softened his tone. “I’m sorry, angel.”
My eyes flashed and my voice quivered, not from sadness but from unsullied anger. “You do not apologize for this. Do you hear me?” My breaths started coming in short, rapid pants. “You say sorry for accidentally stepping on somebody’s toes.” Lifting my hand, I smacked him across the arm. Smack. “You say sorry for buying the wrong brand of shampoo.” Smack. A harder strike. My voice lifted an octave. “You say sorry for coming home late, Tony.” Smack. My eyes stung with the force of my tears as I shook all over. “You do not say sorry for not coming home at all.” Smack.
Tears fell from my lashes and trailed my cheeks, and I couldn’t even find the care to be embarrassed about the way my nose ran.
Twitch’s body tensed with every hit I landed, but all he did was back himself into the kitchen, his jaw steeled, his brows drawn as he took what I needed to dole out. He moved away, and I followed in an unconventional dance I didn’t even know the steps to.
Every strike I dealt felt like a punishment on myself.
This was not who I was. This was the person he made me. And I hated him for it.
The blows came faster and faster and he moved slowly, his body rigid and unyielding, allowing me to back him up against the kitchen counter. My shaking arms flailed in all directions, not caring where the knocks landed, only that they did.
A distressed whimper left me. “How could you do this?” Whack. The words were rough. “How could you do this to me?” Thump. My voice cracked. “To him?” Smack. My body shook as I wept, and my blows weakened as my grief drained me like a cell phone battery. “I loved you, you asshole.” Thwack. When his eyes closed and he swallowed hard, I held my arm up, ready to strike again, but held it midair. My voice was weak, and I focused on the rapid beating of my heart, taking in a slow, trembling breath. “You do not apologize for this.” I dropped my arm, feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing. “Get the fuck out of my house, Twitch.”
As I walked back to my room, my palms hot and throbbing, I dealt a parting blow. “You should’ve stayed dead.”
I didn’t hear him leave.
Actually, I wasn’t even sure he did.
My window rattling in the dead of night woke me with a jolt to the heart.
I knew he would come.
It continued to rattle as he fought with it.
Which was exactly why I bolted it shut.
It was Wednesday, two days after I’d last seen my son’s father, and when I walked A.J. outside toward the car, I saw him waiting, leaning against the wide monstrosity of a gum tree on the corner of the block.
My heart stuttered, but I feigned indifference.
What a thought. Indifference to Twitch.
Yeah, right.
I wasn’t a very good liar, not even to myself.
The moment our son spotted him, he took off running, and I just didn’t have it in me to cause my son distress this morning, so I said nothing. Watching Twitch smile that crooked smile I loved so dearly was almost too much. The fact that it was aimed at our son officially made it too much.
Years.
He willingly missed out on years of A.J., and that hurt.
I wasn’t stupid. I got it. He didn’t want us then. Probably spent the last few years fucking around and sowing his seed, and now that he was likely bored of that life, he thought he’d give being a daddy a crack and see how that went. And after A.J. was nice and attached to his daddy, which I could see he already was, Twitch would leave him and I would be left to pick up the trail of destruction he left.
I couldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let that happen.
I died a slow, painful death as I walked over to them, sliding on my sunglasses, and did my best to ignore the man I once thought was a god. “A.J., we need to go, honey. Don’t want to be late for school.”
A.J. looked up at me, beaming. “Look!” He pointed at the house across the street, on the opposite side of the suburban crossroads. “Daddy lives there.”
An uneasy feeling crossed me. My brows knitted.
If I remembered correctly... “That house was on the market six months ago.”
Don’t you fucking tell me.
Nuh uh. Don’t do it.
Those soft brown eyes met mine. He uttered, “Five months ago,” and I just knew.
Oh, you motherfucker.
Would the blows ever stop coming?
He’d been here for months. Months.
My mind could barely function on the fact, and my heart rate spiked.
The deception ran deep, too deep to follow, for I’d surely fall to my death trying to chart its path.
Twitch held our son to him, and it was a good thing because I was ready for round two. The shithead smiled at me, making a show of roaming my body with those perpetually hooded eyes. “You look good, baby.”
Fuck you were the words I thought.
What I actually said was, “We need to go.”
“Can I see Daddy after school?” A.J. asked politely, then added, “Please?” for good measure.
Stepping forward, I held out my arms, and A.J. came willingly to me, but during the handover, Twitch’s hand touched mine, leaving a trail of solid heat along my fingertips. And I loathed that a simple touch was all it took to set my body on fire. When he was secure in my hold, I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” He frowned, and just as he went to argue, I shot him a firm look. “Not tonight.”
Twitch observed, searching his son’s face, jaw set at the disappointment he saw there. “Next time, bud. Besides, you know where I live.” Then he looked at me, directly at me, and when he spoke, I heard the threat in them. “I’m not going anywhere.”
&nb
sp; Nope.
I did not like that.
There was definitely a warning laced in that last statement and, regrettably, Twitch never did play fair. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t know me anymore. And the lengths I would go to keep my cub safe were infinite, even from his father.
Especially from his father.
Avoiding Twitch was easier than I thought. It had been days since I allowed A.J. time with his dad, and after that first morning, Twitch hadn’t come out to see his son off to school.
I thought it was smart of him to give me a wide berth after the week’s occurrences. I went about my days as I would have the previous week, but I was on autopilot, barely thinking on the goings on around me, and when Nikki called for the hundredth time, I answered.
“Hey,” I spoke quietly.
She immediately burst into tears. “I didn’t know, I swear.”
Her cries called to mine, but I refused to let them be freed, especially at the office. “I know.”
“Then why aren’t you talking to me?” She sniffled. “You think you’re the only confused one, Lex?” A high-pitched squeak left her before she wept openly. “I’m losing my fucking mind here.”
Oh, sweet girl. My heart hurt for her. “You haven’t spoken to Happy?”
“Are you kidding me?” she sniveled. “Fuck, no,” she uttered as firmly as she could. “Fuck him.” Okay, that time her voice broke, and when she went on, I could barely understand her from the blubbing. “I hate him.”
I smiled softly. “No, you don’t.”
At that, the dam broke. Nikki howled out a broken, “No, I don’t.” She continued to sob, and she croaked, “I want to though.” A whimper sounded. “Why don’t I?”
I leaned back in my desk chair. “Because you know as well as I do that whatever this is isn’t on Happy. It’s on Twitch.” I was mad at Happy. I was so fucking mad, but I knew Twitch, and knowing him meant knowing he would have done whatever he meant to do with or without his friends’ help. But that didn’t mean I was ready to talk to Happy. So perhaps I had my own selfish reasons for suggesting what I did. “I think you should call him, honey.” Because the thought of both Twitch and Happy living across the street from me made me feel backed into a damn corner.
