Page 10 of Seizing Control: Part Two

So, he deserves nothing less than matching perfection in his lover.

My internal musing is interrupted by a low growl. “Come ’ere, sweet thing.”

As my man claims me again, tucking me into his side and cupping my nape, Slash grabs the back of my t-shirt and hooks his ankle around mine. Although my heart sinks with a heavy sadness for our best friend, I settle comfortably between the two men who are my constant supports, and the cousin who dotes on me.

Yawning, moments before drowsiness takes me under, I am struck by a sense of déjà vu.

We’ve been here before.

Broken by life.

Buoyed by our love.

Grief has singed our souls more than once. Lies have fed our doubts and broken our faith in a lot of our friends and most of our family. To this day, betrayal stalks us, deliberately unacknowledged, while we pretend that we’re okay with their ongoing perfidy. Sorrow, falsehoods, and duplicity scorches us, burning indiscriminately, yet somehow with lethal precision. It’s a wildfire incited by the actions of others that we’ve, so far, managed to douse with our unwavering devotion to each other.

When sleep claims me, three worries percolate in my mind.

Can we hold tight to the people who matter most while we set fire to our painful pasts?

Will we atone for the part we’ve played, inadvertently and purposely, in fanning the flames of future treachery with our selfish desires and hidden sins?

Is sticking together, just the three of us with Toker on our six, the key to our survival?

1

LILY

After cursing God’s warped sense of humour six ways to Sunday, I force myself out of the shower. My best friend hands me a towel, then trails behind me into my walk-in-wardrobe. Checking my son’s crib, I shake my head and smile when I realise that Crystal has already snuck into my room and taken him downstairs.

It’s for the best.

He’s a sensitive little soul.

My moods affect him.

And so do Nadia’s.

Right now, she’s tense, overly worried about how I’m going to react to the news Gabriel is here to deliver. Apprehension flows from her. Darkens her gaze. Thins out her lips as she watches me pensively. She’s twisting her linked fingers, shuffling from foot to foot like a boxer ready for the fight to start.

If this meeting had happened yesterday, Nadia’s anxiousness would be fitting.

I’d be a mess.

Beyond grief.

Mindless with rage.

Tap-dancing along the line between sanity and madness.

Right now, I find this turn of events ironic.

For weeks, I’ve pushed the point with the Adjudicator, determined to know Zeke’s final thoughts, and I’ve gritted my teeth as they’ve stalled me, time and time again, with excuses about his will not being ready. Now, it feels like another bout of cosmic timing in the mockery that is my life. I literally discovered less than an hour ago that my first love is not dead.

On top of that, I’m almost positive that my husband has known Zeke was alive this entire time. Slash’s continuing jealousy in the weeks since my return to him finally makes sense. His predilection for goading me into calling Zeke’s name during orgasm. The tension between us that has driven me crazy. All the unspoken words, tentatively approached whenever the issues bubbled to close to the surface, take on a sinister cast. Part of me wants to thank him for keeping my feelings for my not-so dead ex-fiancé alive, fresh in my heart so they can be easily resurrected following Zeke’s unexpected middle of the night return.

The other part, made up of the temper I rarely unleash on Slash, is at mutiny.

The men I love are experts at weaponising my need for them against me.

---