Page 161 of Seizing Control: Part One

I try to stop Miss Maple when she gets upset over my lack of attention, but I’m too late. She leaps onto the small alcove next to my hiding spot. The wily feline’s movement catches Lily’s attention. My woman glances out of the window, then slams it shut. The sound of her rushing up the hallway fills my ear as I activate the cherub pendant again. A moment later, I’m greeted by the sound of a handgun being loaded.

I sigh.

“Thanks a lot,’ I tell the cat.

Miss Maple looks at me, completely unperturbed, then she licks her paw and sets about cleaning herself. Knowing that my visit with Lily is over, I weigh up my next option. I have the day and night to myself, no jobs or training on the cards until noon tomorrow. Seems like the perfect time to remind my ex-best friend that I’m still in the running for Lily’s heart.

The thought of going toe to toe with Slash makes me chuckle.

He thought I was feral as Venom.

Well, he’s never met this version of me…

I’m controlled chaos.

Measured anarchy.

Chucking Miss Maple under the chin, I say, “See ya next time.”

Her grey eyes follow me as I make my way past the rose bushes Scarlett planted years ago. Lily has put her green thumb to use and brought them back to life. It’s slightly poetic, and more than a little ironic considering all I now know about her mother and my dad. On a whim, I snap off an emerging bud and slide the stem into the boutonniere slit in my left lapel. The buckles on my boots, another battle that Gabriel lost since I refuse to wear the leather derby shoes that he prefers his proxies to sport, clank as I take off at a sprint toward the vehicle that I parked a kilometre down the road.

In my earpiece, the front door slams.

Pausing my departure, I turn around to catch one last glimpse of Lily.

Dressed in a towel with her robe tied over it, my woman’s wearing the same brand of boots as me—a pair I bought for her shortly before our lives went to shit—and she’s brandishing the Sig Sauer that Toker gave her for her birthday five years ago like a pro.

Metukà shelì means business as she roams the yard, searching for signs of an intruder. When she comes to a stop near the rose bushes, and the broken stem catches her attention, I press my fingers to the flower I stole. I can’t read Lily’s expression from here, but I know what her posture means.

She’s ready to save herself again.

Strong, beautiful, without an ounce of quit in her.

Fierce as ever.

Fuck, I love that woman.

32

LILY

“Hey.” I find it hard to meet Crystal’s eyes when she pulls open the front door to the house I once shared with Slash. The short woman holds the door open for me, sweeping her arm in a silent gesture for me to enter. “I’m a little early, but I figured we should talk before?—”

My ear lobe is seized.

Crystal twists.

I make a sound that’s halfway between a shriek and a strangled grunt.

As I’m dragged by my ear toward the dining room, Crystal huffs. Her disgruntlement is loud and visceral, even though she hasn’t spoken yet. Low in her throat she tsk, tsk, tsk’s me, which when it comes from the woman who we all lovingly refer to as Mumma C is worse than being cussed out.

“Why did you knock, mo ulaidh bheag?” she asks. There is hurt in her voice, and it only deepens as she continues. “Is this nae longer your home? Are ye naw longer ma daughter?” Her accent becomes guttural when she shoves me into a chair next to my husband and flings her hands up in the air. “Innis dhomh, Angelis, ciod a rinn mi gu bhi airidh air clann cho mi-thaingeil?

From his safe space on the opposite side of the dining room, Hunter offers his flustered father a helpful translation. “She said, ‘Tell me, Angelis, what did I do to deserve such ungrateful children?’”

“Well—”

Whatever Angelis is about to say is halted when Crystal turns her ire on her youngest son. She jabs the air with each word as she admonishes Hunter, “Och, hawd yer wheest.… I don’t see yer cut on yer shoulders—’til then ye don’t speak to me.” Her eyes are filled with a tinge of insanity when she whirls back to face me and Slash. “Now, Carter McKinnley Hudson… yer wife is home, make her welcome.”

---