Page 125 of Seizing Control: Part One

With a woman who loves him most.

It’s obvious that different but equal doesn’t cut it with him.

So, I’m going to do the one thing I said I’d never do.

I’m making a choice.

The man who disappeared to save me didn’t give me the courtesy of an explanation.

The man who married me to save me made the same misstep.

Their disrespect has proven terminal.

I’m done.

With Zeke.

With Slash.

After snagging my leather jacket, I snatch my cross-body bag and the keys to Zeke’s Harley. It’s another thing that Toker recovered from the Shamrocks compound for me. The matte-black machine has sat pride of place in the garage for a week. I’ve gone to look at it every night as my escape plan started to cement in my head. Polishing it has become my therapy. Every circle I rub calms me as I reach my last resort.

I’m taking it with me.

Along with the bracelet.

Everything else can go to the dump for all I care.

“Little cuz,” Toker’s voice quivers as I stomp out of my bedroom. Back to the wall, foot braced on the plaster, an unlit joint hanging from his mouth, the red rimming his eyes isn’t from being high. It’s grief, in its most primordial form. While my cousin doesn’t believe that Zeke is alive like I do, he still supports me implicitly. “You ready for this.”

“Yep.” I thread my arms through the too-long leather sleeves.

Toker kicks off the wall, stepping in front of me to zip up the jacket. “Shit’s gonna be bananas—you better behave.”

“I won’t shoot anyone.”

My promise makes him laugh.

“Fuck me… please don’t.” When I roll my eyes at his serious tone, he elaborates, “Gabriel is out of the country, so we won’t be able to bail you until he returns.”

Since I wasn’t arrested when I threatened the Australian media camped out the front of the house with an unregistered rifle, I doubt anyone will come after me, even if I committed murder live on television. Something has shifted since we allied with the Trinity. Apart from a few incursions from the Maddisons and one full-frontal attack by the Bishops—who found themselves all but wiped out in response—a strange lull has come over the underworld.

The Black Shamrocks MC are untouchable.

That’s the word on the street, at least.

I know that most people believe it. My short visits to the law firm where I work to pick up new files has proven that. Everyone treats me like a queen. They can’t do enough for me. Even the ones who are only feigning respect are too afraid to let their guard drop.

Still, I remain wary.

It’s always calmest before the storm.

I feel it in my bones—the worst is yet to come.

“I’ll behave,” I lie to Toker in the same way everyone continues to lie to me. “Won’t cause a scene. Will steel my spine and... and...”

My cousin nods, then he takes my hand. “You’re gonna stay strong, right?”

“I will.”

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