Page 67 of Seizing Control: Part One

“Hmmm.”

When Nadia starts fussing with her hair, I step out of the bathroom and pause in front of the full-length mirror covering the door to the walk-in-closet. There’s worry in my eyes as I check my reflection for flaws. The tailored pant suit I dressed in this morning in anticipation of visiting Zeke at the lockup is mostly unwrinkled. After I blow-dried my hair, I twisted it into a chic chignon and it’s managed to remain reasonably neat, even after Slash manhandled me on the stairs. My makeup is subtle, highlighting my eyes and cheekbones while evening out my complexion. The lip stain I used this morning is miraculously holding up, despite the kisses the big man stole.

All in all, I look as good as I can.

“You’re gorgeous.” Linking her arm with mine, my best friend pulls me away from the mirror. “She’s gonna be sufficiently cowed when you show up. I’d hate to compete against you—that’s why I stick to tormenting your twin brother and Cub. They’re the only men on this planet who aren’t ready to fall to their knees at the sight of your beauty.”

“Thanks, Nads.” I laugh. “You’re so good for my ego.”

“Oh, that’s nothin,” she says with a giggle, skipping down the stairs in front of me. “You’re not just a pretty face. You’re smart. Graceful. Beyond talented?—”

“Loyal. Trustworthy. Tough as nails, yet soft when it’s required,” Crystal interjects when we reach the kitchen.

“Hey!” Nadia feigns offence. She swipes a freshly made muffin from the pan, then juggles it from hand to hand to stop it from burning her fingers. “Don’t steal my thunder... I’m her wing woman.”

“You’re her partner-in-crime, is more to the point.” Crystal chuckles. After handing Nadia a piece of paper towel, she adds. “Leadin’ my little treasure astray. Don’t think I don’t know about the little samples of Hunter’s chemical enhancements you two test on occasion.”

“We plead the fifth,” I tell her as I accept a to-go mug of English breakfast tea and a boxed-up banana muffin. “Thank you—for the sustenance and the alibi.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.” Crystal motions toward to garage door. “I’ve organised an escort.”

Toker pokes his head through the doorway. “Your wish, my command, lil cuz.”

“I’m driving out to Hades’ farm. Need to... grab some... things to, uh, make them comfortable while they’re?—”

“If that’s the excuse we’re usin’, then that’s the excuse we’re usin’, I ‘spose,” he cuts off my stammered reasoning with clear amusement. Suppressing a grin, Toker jokes, “I’m along for the ride... any cat fights I witness are simply a bonus.”

“Did you forget that I’m your cousin?” I elbow him in the side as I pass by. “You gross to even think that, even though there won’t be a cat fight.”

Darting for his Harley that’s parked behind my SUV, Toker calls back to me, “Good, ‘cause my money was on the MMA fighter anyway.”

Deciding that it’s better to ignore his goading rather than indulge him, I take the high road. Head held high, I move to the driver’s side, then settle into the seat. Nadia joins me, her muffin half-eaten and her travel mug clutched to her chest like it’s precious. We follow my cousin out of Slash’s street and into the Sunday morning traffic, to settle behind him as he leads the way during the hour-long drive.

I’ve been to Hades’ farm more times than I can count.

It’s almost my second home at this point.

Yet, as we turn onto the long, winding, recently graded dirt driveway, I’m filled with nerves and uncertainty. The well-maintained homestead is surrounded by a garden that’s deteriorated a little more with every year that passes by without my mum’s green thumb to sustain it. A dozen motorcycles are parked in front of the barn that houses the underground bunker where some of the Shamrocks darker deeds take place. Toker comes to a stop next to a glossy black Harley while I pull into my customary parking spot, next to a van with the Blackards MMA logo painted on the side and an enclosed bike trailer attached to the tow ball.

The shiny vehicle and trailer are a lot newer than the old four-wheel-drive and rusty flatbed they used to use as a support vehicle on their cross-country treks. As I cut the engine, I turn to Nadia, “The MMA gym must be doing well if they can afford to upgrade to a set up like this.”

“Gyms,” she tells me. “Sander said they’ve just opened their third one.”

“That’s amazing. I’m glad they’re finding their feet again after Mari’s death.”

“Yeah.” Nadia shoots me a worried look as I remain in the driver’s seat with my fingers curled around the steering wheel. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course,” I say in an overly perky manner. Staring at the van and trailer, I rack my brains for something to say. “I’m just impressed by how quickly they’ve rebuilt things since they downgraded to a support club.”

The inconsequential chitchat that we’re barely engaged in dies as my cousin opens my car door and waves me out. “Move your tushy, lil cuz. Time’s a tickin’... Slash’ll know where we’re at soon, and this little tête-à-tête will be—” He draws his thumb across his throat. “—and my arse will be kicked to the front gate and back.”

“You’re so freakin’ dramatic.” Nadia unclips her seatbelt, then leans over to do the same to mine. She touches my chin. “Cherub, you don’t actually have to do this—you’re marrying Slash, anyway. Why does it matter who Zeke’s been spendin’ his time with, especially after the way he’s treated you?”

“I don’t know.”

“As much as I wish I’d brought my pillow to this girl power sleepover,” Toker offers in a conspiratorial whisper. Confused, I peer up at him, then follow his gaze to the front door of Hades’ house. “The welcome party is descending...”

I shove him out of the way and clamber out of my car.

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