Page 20 of Seizing Control: Part One

“Jesus, flay a man alive, why don’t ya.”

“Oh, I will.” Ignoring the unconcealed agony lacing his humourless quip, I warn him, “The second my feet touch the ground, it’s on.”

I punctuate my point with a hard punch to his kidney.

When Zeke’s stride falters for a second, I ready myself to be lowered back to my feet. An uneasy sense of abandonment, a feeling that I floods me until I realise that he’s carrying me into Cub’s room instead. After he swipes everything from the top of the dresser and sets me down on top of it, I scan the unfamiliar room.

This isn’t Cub’s bedroom any longer.

It’s Zeke’s.

With as much effort as he’s expended to eradicate me from his life—dumping my belongings at Slash’s, hiding away the Harley he gifted me for my eighteenth birthday, banning me from the compound for months—it shouldn’t hurt to learn that he’s also abandoned the room we once shared in favour of a fresh start.

But it does.

My hand has a mind of its own as I slap his face.

“Guess I deserved that.”

“Oh, you deserve more than that.”

Zeke is deadly serious as he replies, “So, give it to me…”

The soberness etched in his features as he scans my face with his beautifully unique gaze rips the wind from my sails. I can’t look at him, not when every regret he has is clear to see, so I peer around the room instead. The bed is neatly made, something he never managed when we were together. His clothes are piled over the back of the armchair, a familiar sight that makes my chest tighten. On the bedside table on his side of the bed, a framed photo from better times takes pride of place.

Rather than turn myself inside out trying to understand why he still has a picture of us displayed, I ask, “Why am I up here?”

“Don’t want your feet to touch the ground just yet.”

Narrowing my gaze, I peer at him with unconcealed scepticism. “Why? Because you know I’m gonna kick your arse when they do?”

“’Cause I miss you, and I don’t wanna fight with you tonight.”

The laughter that bubbles from me makes it seem like I’m on the edge of insanity.

Maybe I am?

Because I can’t believe my ears right now.

“All it took for you to miss me was for me to kiss someone else.” Shaking my head, I tell him, “You’re sick… I’m not some discarded toy you get to snatch back whenever it catches someone else’s attention. We are not fucking. Tonight. Or any night.”

“It’s not like that.” When Zeke tries to touch me, I jam my knee in his chest, then attempt to slide off the dresser. He widens his stance, uses his big body to keep me trapped while he pleads, “All I wanna do is talk.”

“You had the chance to talk,” I snap back at him. “Instead of that, you boxed up my shit and had my little brothers deliver it to Slash’s. I gave you a tonne of opportunities to talk after that, and you ignored every one of them. You acted like I didn’t exist. Eradicated me from your life. Sold our house. Took my Harley away. Tried to banish me from the compound.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough.”

My retort is the understatement of the century.

Does he truly believe a two-word apology will fix things between us?

“I know it’s not… just want you to know I had my reasons.”

“Your reasons stink.”

My chin starts to wobble as my eyes begin to burn. Determined not to cry in front of him, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. Out of habit, Zeke brushes two fingers over my mouth to stop me from breaking the skin. As soon as he touches me, my palm cracks across his face.

---