Page 113 of Seizing Control: Part One

But how am I supposed to explain that to everyone else?

“Anna,” Sander says my name, then whatever else he was going to say is lost as fat tears roll down his cheeks. “I…”

He glances around at everyone else, seeking help with the right words to say.

This time, as I follow his gaze to take in the sight of our loved ones in their various states of grief, I’m not as angry. They don’t know, they don’t understand, so it’s up to me to explain that Zeke’s disappearance is only temporary.

He’ll be back.

He promised.

The armchair in the corner across from me and Slash is occupied by my best friend and my twin. Sander’s broken leg is in a cast, his dislocated shoulder strapped across his chest. On his lap, he holds Nadia with his good arm as she weeps silently. Her gaze is locked on me, fear in her eyes as she takes in my reaction.

Sitting along the wall that runs the length of the room is the rest of our family.

Toker. My normally jovial cousin is ashen. Silent. He stares straight ahead, barely blinking. Next to him, Everett keeps his focus fixed on the carpet. My youngest brother is passed out, his innocent expression at odds with the way he clutches Everett and Wyatt’s hands. Knuckles white, he sleeps the sleep of the damned. My newly prospected brother clasps the Steyr HS that belongs to Zeke like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to Earth.

Just down from them, Meeyal, Cub, and Hunter are huddled together.

I think they were whispering to each other before I woke up.

Their conversation is half-done, their anxious need to finish it clear.

“You can all go,” I announce.

“Duchess.” Slash tries to keep me with him as I climb off the bed. I shake him off, then give him a sisterly pat on the cheek as he says, “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine.” Straightening the t-shirt I’m wearing, I swipe at my damp cheeks. “Is anyone else hungry?”

Without waiting for them to respond, I walk on legs that don’t feel like they belong to me toward the exit. I pull the door open, and that’s when I discover the rest of the club. Shamrock after Shamrock, they line the walls of the hallway. Nobody speaks as I pass them, but I try to soothe their sorrow with a tight smile whenever someone meets my eyes.

As I reach the staircase, I encounter the Blackards.

Diablo sweeps me into his arms and holds me tight.

When he lets me go, I offer him a watery smile.

“Fuck, little Cherub?—”

I press my finger to his lips to halt his platitudes. “Zeke will be back.”

“He’s…” Trailing off, the dark-haired man looks around him for help. When no one else peaks up, he repeats the lie they’re all peddling, “Cherub, Venom’s dead. He was killed last night at the lockup—a guard and Venom’s cellmate were also murdered.”

Wiping at my nose, I blow out a deep breath. “I’m sorry to hear about the guard and Zeke’s cellmate, but your facts are wrong.” As I sweep my arm to encompass all the people assembled, I state loudly, “Zeke is not dead. He promised he’d come back to me, and he will.”

The silence that dawns in the wake of my declaration is heavy and still.

“Now, I’m going to make myself something to eat—if any of y’all are hungry, follow me to the kitchen and I’ll rustle something up for you.”

“Cherub.” Diablo tries to stop me from descending the stairs.

Gabbi wraps both of her hands around his forearm to pull him away from me. “Let her go.”

I give her a curt nod of appreciation.

She swallows hard, then smiles. It’s fake, but I don’t call her out on it. As close as she may have been to Zeke while he was in Sydney, she doesn’t have twenty-three years of history with him like I do. It’s not her fault that she can’t feel his existence. That her soul isn’t certain that he’s alive—just further away than he’s ever been.

And I won’t hold that against her.

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