Page 85 of Seizing Control: Part One

I shake my head to decline Ziva’s offer.

“We can burn it straightaway if you don’t want to keep it,” Nadia promises.

“I don’t know…” When I trail off, Sera shuffles closer and hands me the pen. On my other side, Indi nudges me with her shoulder. “It’s dumb.”

“Maybe you’ll manifest a threesome,” Indi says with a giggle. At eighteen-years-old, she’s the youngest of us, the only one to have never been in love. Not that she’s had the chance since she’s been betrothed to her best friend since the day they were born—four hours apart. Her innocence is apparent when she continues. “Not that I even know what that would entail.”

As the other members of our club start to tease Indi, Nadia takes hold of my wrist and pulls my fingers apart so she can make me grip the pen. “Take somethin’ for yourself out of this mess,” she murmurs low. “Even if it’s just words generated by your imagination… you deserve to bring them to life for a moment.” After pressing her index and middle fingers to the pulse point on the inside of my wrist, my best friend continues. “Your heart’s racin’… give it what it wants for once. Forget being a martyr. Embrace being a woman.”

Her final two sentences are the ones that make my reticence evaporate.

I spend so much of my time fighting to be respected as a member of the Shamrock family that I forget that I’m a woman, not a man. My swinging dick is missing. My desires are different. And that’s why I find myself, with my best girlfriends gathered around me, flopped on my stomach on the floor of the games room putting pen to paper.

It takes a minute for my creative juices to get flowing, but once they do, I’m unstoppable. For the next hour, I detail my perfect night—just me, Zeke, and Slash. Together. Without anger and recrimination. Lost to love and lust. Slaves to ecstasy and desire.

A flawless dream.

One that will never see the light of day.

Yet, when Serena offers to burn my letter to Zeke in the sink, I tuck it in my bra.

Like Nadia said, it can’t hurt to take something for myself out of this mess.

Even if it’s just an impossible dream formed amidst chaos...

15

SLASH

As I stomp through the cemetery toward the grave that I visit once a year, I’m struck by the sense of peace on offer at night. It’s a counterintuitive situation, considering this is the last place I should expect to find it. This is home to my living nightmare. A monument to my failure. An enduring reminder of my loss. In this cemetery, Jenna is buried next to my son, not by my choice, but because her family cut me out of the decision making.

The only good thing I ever created.

Resting eternally next to his murderer.

The beer bottle I’m swigging from swings from my fingers as I stride down a long row toward the only home my boy’s ever known. As I reach the familiar headstone, I deliberately trudge over the rectangular piece of marble covering Jenna’s remains. It’s a small indignity, not a patch on the bullshit she put me through, yet it always fills me with glee to offer her a little of the disrespect she showed me.

“Hey, son.” I plonk down on his slab, careful to sit at the end where his little feet can’t reach. The marble marker at the head doesn’t have a name on it—he’s simply known as “Baby Greatbatch.” It’s another humiliation that was heaped on my head at the time when I wasn’t even given the honour of being listed as his dad. “I know this is a surprise—two months early and all that.”

When my throat starts to close up, I gulp down some more beer. Blowing out a puff of air, I survey the dark cemetery. So many people I know are buried here. The founding six. My older brother. Scarlett. Venom’s mother, Chantal. My paternal grandmother.

My son...

“Four days ago, I married a woman who’ll be a damn good mother when the time comes.” Since the words seem to come easier if I don’t look at his headstone, I peer up at the sky as I continue to speak. “And I’m fuckin’ scared of what that means for me—pardon my language, son... but that’s the truth. I failed you. Couldn’t save you when you needed me.” I drain the amber bottle dry, then toss it at Jenna’s grave. The glass smashes, shards covering her marble slab. “What if I fail another kid?” A low laugh that is devoid of humour is ripped from me. “Don’t get me started on the kid I might’ve put inside another evil bitch—that’s a whole mess on its own.”

A raven takes flight near the entrance to the graveyard.

I tilt my head further back to watch it soar above me.

The lucky motherfucker.

I envy it’s freedom.

“Anyway, I came to apologise once more—to tell you that if I could go back and fix this, I would.” Breathing hard, I tell my son. “I’d steal you from the hospital. Hide you away from that bitch. Do my best to give you the life you deserved.”

Two more ravens follow the path of the first bird, momentarily distracting me from my grief. Again, I watch the autonomous bastards with jealousy. They spread their wings. Head high in the sky. Unweighed down by past mistakes, present problems, and future failings.

Imagine being free to come and go as you please, to do as you choose?

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