Page 114 of Seizing Control: Part One

I won’t hold it against any of them.

But I will expect an apology when he returns.

“I’m hungry…” Gabbi ventures slowly. “Why don’t I help you?”

“Sure.”

In the kitchen, I find Crystal and Charlie. My stepmother hangs back when Slash’s mum ambushes me with a bear hug. I take comfort in the soft woman’s affection, and my appreciation for her ramps up even higher when she shoos everyone but me and Gabbi out of the kitchen.

“Scram,” she tells them. Pointing at the doors that lead out to the spectacular backyard, Crystal adds. “We’ll let you know when dinner is up.”

As two dozen people follow Charlie outside, I pull the fridge door open to survey the contents. Behind me, I hear whispering. I slam the fridge shut, then start loudly opening and closing the cupboard doors as I search for something to eat.

Nothing interests me.

Which is annoying as fuck.

Because I need to fill up the emptiness inside me with something.

“She doesn’t believe he’s dead,” Nadia whispers as she joins us.

I roll my eyes as I riffle through the well-stocked pantry.

“She’s in shock.”

“Definitely.” Gabbi agrees with Crystal’s one-word assessment. “All we can do is keep an eye on her so someone’s around to catch her when it wears off.”

As much as their lack of faith in my gut instinct upsets me, I do my best to hide my hurt. I failed to keep my emotions under control before the wedding yesterday. My attempt to run is an embarrassment I’ll need to endure forever, but I’m determined not to add to it with an overreaction today.

After all, I married Slash to save Zeke.

I need to stay the path.

Show everyone that I’m not a liability.

Prove that this plan will work.

Or Zeke’s sacrifice will be for nothing.

19

SLASH

Eight days later

“Hey, prez,” Cub ventures into the chapel where I’m sitting alone in the dark. “I wanna show ya somethin.”

As I have done since I stitched the patch onto my cut just over a week ago, I jerk like I’ve been hit when I hear my new title. The label sits uneasy with me, especially while I’m also getting used to be a husband and stepping up as a quasi-father to Cherub’s younger brothers. In Venom’s absence, they have directed their grief toward me.

They expect me to be him.

Their confidant.

Their support.

Their saviour.

And I’m flailing hard, unable to meet their needs at the same time as I try to deal with my duchess’ inability to accept that Venom’s gone. She’s spent the past week denying his death. Refusing to plan his funeral. Between bouts of rage at the rest of us for not believing her, she pops the oral sedatives Doc left for her like candy and sleeps the day away.

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