by Amo Jones
I leave, throwing my shirt over one shoulder and make my way out to find Tillie.
Tillie
I’m being irrational. I know this, really, I do. Ridge and I shared beds for years while I watched him bounce around others, and then come back to me and vice versa. It never bothered me—ever. I never experienced a throbbing pain pound against my belly to the beat of Eminem “Love the Way You Lie.” But right now, I feel like I’m about to light that match and burn every single inch of the walls inside my head that hold a memory of Nate.
Holy hell.
I run my fingers through my hair, grinding my teeth while pacing back and forth.
“It’s fine, Tillie. Cool your shit.”
My eyes go to the ground where Daemon’s book is. I dash for it, shoving it into a small overnight bag that I found in his closet. I don’t know why I feel a little fragile right now, but I don’t like it. I don’t like not being in control of my feelings, and that probably stems back to not being in control of my father and his temper when I was a small child.
I’m not touching that right now.
I toss in the clothes that Madison gave me and zip up. Did I really expect to stay here, living out of Madison’s shadow and not have a life? I have a daughter. I should be thinking about our life and what I’m going to do, but I can’t. My life is a fucking mess because of—I look around the room. This. I miss my baby more than I can say, but at the same time, I’m disappointed in myself for bringing her into this world. I don’t regret her existence, not one bit. There is nothing in this world that can spark every single emotion in my body but my daughter. And maybe the father… but I wish. I wish I had a better life to offer her.
I fall to the ground, exhausted by the marathon my head is running around me and lean back against the mattress on the bed, my eyes zoning in on the pattern that is imprinted into Daemon’s ceiling.
The door opens and then closes, but I don’t pay it any attention. As much as I wish it was Madison, it knew it wasn’t.
“I’ll get her back,” Nate says softly, but I still don’t look at him.
“And then what, Nate? I have nothing to offer our daughter, who deserves the world. I’m lucky I’m smart so I have enough grades to graduate high school, but college isn’t in the picture for me.” I finally turn my attention to him. “What have I got to offer her? I’ve failed her before I’ve had a chance to enjoy her.”
He sinks down onto the floor opposite me, and I fight with myself not to let my eyes drop to his naked chest. Nate naked in any sense is a damn vortex for girls. He sucks you in and laughs as you lose yourself in a never-ending spin of pretty colors and ecstasy.
He props one arm up on one knee, leaning his head back against the door while his eyes stay on mine. “You haven’t failed her, Tillie. We will figure it out when she gets here.”
I shake my head, swiping the tears away from my eyes. “You don’t get it.”
“Yeah, I do, and fuck, if you want to go to college, then you can go to fucking college. You know damn well I’d pay—”
“—Nate!” I snap, my eyes going to him. “I’m not a fucking charity case.”
“No.” His eyes narrow on me. “You’re the fucking mother to my kid, so if I want to put your ass through college, I fucking will, so shut the fuck up and calm your stubborn ass down for once in your goddamn life.”
I exhale, turning my head to face the ceiling again, losing the urge to fight with him. “I hate you so much.”
“Yeah, ditto, baby, but we have a kid. So when she gets back, we’re seriously going to talk about what you want in the long term and how we can make that happen. But we’re also going to sit down with Mom and Joseph and toss around ideas to keep Micaela safe until this shit with your sister is taken care of. Can we agree on that?”
“Right now.” I stand from the floor. “I just want her back. We can talk about the rest once she’s back in my arms.”
“Deal.”
Nate
I never thought much about the day that I die. I think I assumed that I’d acquire some sort of superpower by that time and figure out how to become immortal. But as I flick my military blade around my fingers and think more on it, leaning back in my seat as Bishop drives us toward New York City, it’s not the way in which someone dies that matters. It’s what they died for that it comes down to, and I‘d lay my life on the line in a heartbeat to save my daughter. I may not have had much time with her since she has been born, but your kid should always be the exception when it comes to time.
“Did you get anything out of her?” Eli asks from the backseat.
I don’t answer.
“Either way,” Bishop exhales, leaning to the side of his seat while taking us onto the highway. “We’re prepared enough.” In this ride, there’s Bishop, me, Eli, Cash, and Spyder, Bishop’s cousin. In the Range Rover behind us is Brantley, Ace, Hunter, Chase, and Jase. Then in the SUV behind them is Joseph, Hector, Max, Raguel, and Johan. Basically, all of the olds are in that vehicle.
“Mmmm,” I answer, looking out the window.
“Will you be able to handle it if you find out that she has lied to you?” Eli further asks and I have to stop myself from snapping at him.
“I already fucking know she has lied to me.”
Bishop doesn’t answer, because he knows too.
“What?” Eli pushes forward to lean on the center console. “How?”
“We’ve known all along,” Bishop cuts in for me.
We continue driving and Eli eventually drops the subject once he figures out that neither Bishop or I were going to go further into it. It’s another five minutes before we’re entering the bright lights of New York City.
I push the buttons on the GPS system that’s sitting on the dash, programming the address into it. She starts yapping off and I close my eyes to count to ten.
I inhale on eight, a smirk riding on my lips. “You smell that? Smells like murder.”
“Okay, but I thought we weren’t supposed to make a mess…” Cash adds, looking around at all of us. Cash is the only one out of all of us, apart from Eli, I think, that doesn’t “like” to commit first-degree murder, or murder on any ground and they especially aren’t really fond of the sight of blood.
Spyder tsks from the back seat. “There are ninety-seven ways you can kill someone without drawing any blood.”
“I’m not going to ask how you know that, but okay,” Cash replies. The complete opposite of his brother Saint, who runs in the same circle as me and Bishop when it comes to becoming the reaper when needed. We’re just below Brantley, who is a product of someone who has walked through the gates of hell and lived to talk about it.
We pull into an underground parking of a skyscraper building. As soon as Bishop parks, we all jump out, shutting our doors loudly.
Hector Hayes, Bishop’s old man and the godfather of all of The Kings, flicks his suit while grinning at us all. “Ready for playtime?”
Tillie
“Stop pacing and sit down. You’re making me dizzy.” Madison massages her temples, leaning forward. We’re all in the sitting room. Elena and Bishop’s mom, Scarlet, has joined us.
“Seriously.” Oh, and Tate.
I flop down onto the single sofa, flicking my rings around my finger. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Elena coos, offering me a gentle smile. One that doesn’t quite reach the corners of her eyes. “But don’t worry. She’s coming back.”
“That’s sort of not really what I’m worried about. I mean, I know she’s coming back. I know they’ll get her back.”
“What then?” Madison asks. She doesn’t snap at me, her tone is warm enough to almost melt the truth right out of my mouth, but I slam my lips closed.
I freeze. “Nothing.”
Tate curls up in a ball on the sofa and it’s not long before she’s snoring softly. She was drunk, very drunk, and an irrational side of me wants to hate her for everything that she’s making me feel, but I don’t. M
y beef isn’t with her, it’s more with Nate. He’s the one who is a whore and has made me feel like I’m just another girl he cares about in his life. Or maybe it is an underlying insecurity from my daddy issues. Who knows. Either way, I sigh as I get up from my seat and grab the throw blanket that is perched over the top of the sofa, spreading it out over her little body.
“She doesn’t mean to be the way she is,” Madison says through a whisper.
“I know,” I agree, and it’s as though neither of the moms are in this room right now. “Love changed her.”
Madison sighs. “When she figures out that it’s not love that she’s feeling, she will come back.”
“I hope so,” I answer softly, going back to my spot on the sofa. Unable to sit still, my fingers start twisting on my lap. “Do you think they’ll be okay?”
Scarlet looks at me over her martini glass. “Yes.”
All of the cars pull up at once. The Range Rovers, the Bentley, and finally, the one I knew Nate was in. I chew on my bottom lip as the backdoor swings open. Madison grabs my hand beside me and squeezes. “It’s going to be okay.”
My breathing stops, my legs wobble like jelly and when I see Nate finally step out of the car, I let out a small exhale as he turns, and Micaela is cradled in his arms. I jolt toward them, reaching out to her, but Nate turns her away from me.
“Inside. Now.”
“What?” I snap, my eyes leaving my daughter and going back to Nate. “You can’t do this.” I barely noticed the blood stains on Nate’s hands or everyone else that was there because they’re blurred into the back of my brain.
Finally, I turn and leave, going back inside and into the sitting room. The gas fire flicks angry flames against the wall which is a direct display of my own rage.
Nate walks in alone with Micaela in his arms. He slowly brings her toward me, and I fly off the sofa, taking her in my arms.
“It feels longer than one day that she has been gone.”
Nate doesn’t say anything, he simply lowers himself onto the sofa. “Sit down, Tillie. I need to talk with you about something.”
I inhale Micaela’s scent, closing my eyes. “If it has to do with whatever you had to do to get her back, I don’t care.”
“Really?” he asks, leaning back in the sofa. Micaela starts stirring so I bounce her around. Nate’s eyes land on her. “She’s been looked after by that nurse.”
I nod, running my finger down her cheek. “I know. It’s why—” I stop. Biting down on my tongue. It’s too late, though, because he caught it.
“Oh?” He pikes up, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. “You knew?”
Shit. Shit. Shit. shit. “I knew that Peyton would us—”
“—cut the fucking lies, Tillie. You can’t fucking be honest even when it comes to our daughter.”
My eyes snap to his. “So you’ve never lied?”
He pins me with a glare, staring straight through me. “Never about her.” Then he stands to all his six-foot-whatever inches, his shoulders squaring in defiance. It’s at this very moment that I realize just how pissed he is.
“So this is what is going to happen, babe.” Only Nate could call me babe through lips that are seething with rancor. “I didn’t kill your stupid fucking sister, because it turns out that I didn’t need to.”
I step backward. “What do you mean?” My grip around Micaela tightens.
“I mean,” he says, countering my step. “She’s not a Stuprum, Tillie, she’s not Katsia’s daughter.”
I freeze. “What? That’s not right. She’s always been there. She’s my sister.”
Nate tilts his head. “You have the same dad but different mom. She’s been kicked onto the street by The Operation. They want nothing to do with her and in fact, she will probably be dead by the end of the week.”
“I don’t understand.”
Nate shakes his head slowly, his eyes darkening on me. “You’re going to give my mom Micaela until we sort this out.”
“Fuck you,” I spit, squeezing her into my arms again.
“Pass, thanks, and Tillie, shut the fuck up and let me finish.” His hands reach out to her. “This is the only way we’re going to keep her safe for now. Stop being so fucking selfish.”
I falter, his words penetrating my brain like a broken record. Is he right? Am I being selfish for keeping her in my arms even if it means sacrificing all that she could be.
No. She’s my daughter. Mine. The best thing a daughter can have is her mother, not money or opportunity.
Nate must’ve been able to read my expression, because his eyes darken on me. His shoulders pull back and his legs spread, his stance switching. It’s as though I’m watching a dark cloud sneak into a warm summer’s day, sucking in all of the sunshine and replacing it with gloom.
“You don’t have a choice, Tillie, she’s my daughter just as much as she’s yours, and now shit has changed.”
“What? What has changed?”
“Give her to me.” I’m too busy trying to figure out what he had just said that I aimlessly hand her to him.
“What do you mean, Nate?”
The doors open behind him and all of The Kings stand in a line.
I gulp, my eyes going back to Nate. “What are you going to do with me?”
He steps forward, kissing Micaela’s head. “Get upstairs and go to my room.”
I rush past him, annoyed with not just him but myself for allowing myself to get into this position to begin with. The control I craved for my daughter starts to slip between the cracks because he’s right. She’s just as much his as she is mine. I have no right to be the only person calling the shots when it comes to her livelihood. I have to learn how to share her time between us.
I shove his door open and freeze, the sight in front of me falters not just my footsteps but all thoughts of cussing Nate out too. There, in the midst of Nate’s bachelor-slash-skanky ass room of red paint, black silk sheets—hopefully freaking washed—is a matte black crib. It has black blankets and bright pink sheets and the curve of it is more of an oval than a rectangle.
A pang of guilt crashes into me. I haven’t given Nate a chance to be a father, sure, but I’ve barely myself been a mother. I’m constantly failing at it. I could bring it down to my age, or circumstance, but not every situation is ideal. I just have to find a way to cope with what fits my current predicament.
“Shhhh.” Nate rocks Micaela, shooting me daggers as he enters. Her small little face is tilted backward, her cherub lips parted as she snores softly in the safety of his arms.
Nate yanks his eyes away from me, taking the disdain with him and I watch as his features soften when he looks back at his daughter. There has never been a delusional part of me that thought just because Nate and I have a baby together that we would just miraculously get on and would be a happy family. This family is not like others, and our world, the one we live in, plays a big part in this. Luckily, Micaela is still a baby, so she’s not old enough to see how toxic her parents are. Hopefully we can sort something out before she starts talking and her first word is “fuck.”
When he places her into her crib, he reaches for the TV remote and turns it on. My eyes shoot to where Michaela sleeps peacefully. He turns the volume to a medium level, enough for us to talk and not wake her.
“I’m not sleeping in here, Nate,” I finally say as he removes his heavy boots and tosses them into the corner.
He reaches for the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head. I notice there’s no blood on his clothes, but I see droplets of it behind his neck and on his hands. I know they fight shirtless for this reason, but something pangs in my chest and I need to know. “What happened tonight?”
He stands, turning to face me full on. His chest is wide and tanned, the ink etched into his skin beautifully. Nate isn’t bulky, he’s lean, cut to perfection for his height. He has large angel wings tattooed over his chest and one arm covered with a sleeve, including old English font that goes over
his ribcage. “I got our daughter back, that’s what. And from now on, she’s not leaving this fucking house, you hear me?”
I open my mouth and then slam it closed. “I get that you’re her dad, Nate, but she’s mine too—”
“—yeah?” He yanks open his belt and flicks his button until his jeans are hanging off his lean hips. I divert my eyes, nervous that he would pick up on my gawking. “Good fucking entry she has gotten from you so far, Tillie. Top job.”
“Fuck you.” I’m raging, hanging dangerously close to the line of not giving a flying shit and saying what I want. “I did what I could for her—always!”
His eyes stay on mine. “Like lie to me?”
I still, running my palms down my pants. “I—”
“—Save it. Get in the shower, put one of my shirts on, and get your ass into bed. I need to sleep, and then tomorrow, we will talk about the next steps we take from here.”
I exhale, exhausted from today but relieved I have my daughter back and admittedly, it is thanks to Nate, but it makes me nervous that I don’t know what one of my lies he knows up to this point. Going straight for his dresser, I yank open his shirt drawer and dive into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I hit the faucet and place Nate’s shirt on the bathroom counter, squeezing the curve of the sink and slowly counting to ten.
I’m at seven when Madison’s entry to the bathroom opens and she freezes. “Shit, sorry!”
I shake my head, smiling at her. “It’s okay.”
She walks into the bathroom. Really need to remember that I need to lock her side too. This bathroom and the secrets that are contained between the walls is enough to make a priest burst into flames.
I flip down the toilet cover and take a seat.
Madison’s eyes go to Nate’s door and she leans closer to me. “Are you okay? He can’t hear anything in here. These walls are actually pretty soundproof.”
