Page 155 of Seizing Control: Part One

His jeans.

The boot.

A shudder runs through me. My mouth waters uncontrollably. I count backward in my head from one hundred, forcing myself to restart from the top every time a thought of Zeke or Slash pops into my mind. When I’m eighty-percent positive that I’m not going to throw up again, I pull my singlet over my head and drop it into the hamper. My panties are the next to go. I step out of them and let them fall on top of my sleep vest. After starting the water, I step up to the single basin and slide off my wedding ring.

I’m not sure why I continue to wear it, but it just feels right.

When I drop the ring drop it into the little bowl I placed there to hold my valuables while I shower, it makes a clinking sound when it lands on something else. Picking up my ring, I fish out the pendant that I know wasn’t there yesterday.

As I turn to hold it up to the light, I let out a cry. My heart skips a beat, my fingers twitch, and I drop the cherub charm on the floor. It bounces twice, then disappears under the claw-foot bath. Lowering to my knees, I stretch my arm out and pat under the antique tub. When I feel a cold lump that’s about the right size, I carefully slide it out.

I flop onto my butt as I take in the craftsmanship with greedy eyes.

A tiny blue sapphire has been added to the middle of the cherub’s chest.

The attention to detail is exquisite.

My movements are clumsy as I unclasp my wedding bracelet.

The cherub pendant matches the alien head and scalpel perfectly.

In my heart, I know that this is Zeke’s handiwork.

My head isn’t on board with my gut, though.

Because it’s not possible.

Zeke’s dead.

As I remember the nineteen days I spent refusing to believe that Zeke was truly gone, my bottom lip starts to tremble. I was horrible to everyone. Destroyed their mourning period with my failure to accept reality. Added to their grief with my selfishness.

I put them through so much unnecessary pain, then I just left.

Thankfully, there have been zero repercussions caused by my defection.

With the alliance between the Shamrocks and the Trinity solidified, Western Australia is experiencing a prolonged period of harmony in the underworld. The Maddison clan continue to mount random sneak attacks onto our turf, but so far, they’ve been beaten back by a smack on the hand and a stern word from our powerful ally.

A dull thud snaps me out of my stupor.

Jerking like I’ve been slapped, I push back to my feet.

When I stop in front of the basin to drop my jewellery into the bowl, I can’t meet my own eyes in the mirror. My heart is winning the war against my head. The filth that infects me wants out. The baby growing inside of my body is the only reason I’m not reaching for the razor I still keep within reach right now. The need to purge grows, my face feels hot, and my skin crawls with the urge to bleed out my inner turmoil. Shame crashes through me as I distract myself by opening the clasp on my bracelet and sliding the cherub pedant on with the other two.

An alien head, a scalpel, and a cherub hanging out together…

It sounds like the start to a bad joke.

Pity that it’s not my reality.

Stepping under the warm spray, I hold my face toward the downpour like I do every morning. I allow the tears to fall, only when they can mingle with water. It’s my plausible deniability. My version of peace. My absolution. I can mourn the men I love for as long as it takes me to sing mine and Zeke’s song in my head.

‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ by good old Guns N’ Roses.

A classic.

My mother’s favourite.

The distinctive guitar riff.

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