Page 101 of Seizing Control: Part Two

“Okay.” Nadia pats my calf. She pulls my socks off, aware that I can no longer reach my feet to do it myself. “Rest up, Cherub... but don’t forget to text me if you feel worse. I’ll drive you to the hospital myself if I have to.” Pulling a series of poses, she flexes like a body builder. It’s hilarious considering the heaviest thing my best friend lifts is Garrett. “Don’t stress out over things... just ’cause Skye is useless as tits on a bull, that doesn’t mean we’re out of options.”

I bite back a grin.

The outrage in her voice is a balm to my battered soul.

It’s comforting to have someone who is always on my side, no matter what.

With Lazarus missing—or gone—and Slash showing zero signs that he’s going to change his mind about Garrett, I’m flip-flopping between worry and annoyance on the hour. The two men are beyond stubborn. Stuck in their ways. Too interested in controlling me and the world around me to understand that I don’t need that from them. What I need is their support and their trust.

Instead, I get treated like a child.

Lied to.

Abandoned.

I’m not perfect.

I make mistakes.

Choose options that they don’t agree with.

That doesn’t warrant their ongoing secrets and the games they play with the lives of the people around them. Logically, I can understand my first love’s decision to fake Zeke’s death and come back as Lazarus. He wanted to protect us. Save me. In the same way, on a rational level, I comprehend Slash’s choice to ignore Garrett’s existence. It’s a survival mechanism. A way to avoid having his heart broken again.

They are chasing self-preservation.

Shielding their pride.

But, what about my needs?

My pride.

Apparently, I’m a sacrifice they’re both happy to make...

“You know where to find me,” Nadia says as she returns my phone to the bedside table.

“Yeah... not in my brother’s bed.”

My best friend winks, then she takes her leave with a bounce in her step.

Despite her heartache when they first broke up again, Nadia has bounced back in rapid speed. This time it’s Sander who hasn’t coped as well. The shadows under my twin’s eyes are worrying. His attitude is slowly unravelling. Cracks are starting to show, nervous energy and an unexplainable exhaustion that can’t be accounted by is rehab program.

Knowing my brother, he thinks the lies will reduce my stress.

It’s having the opposite effect.

Unsettled but unable to fall asleep, I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Cramps come and go, the sharp pain easing as I hold my belly with both hands. Garrett slumbers. His even breathing is loud in the quiet room. My twins have been unusually inactive over the past couple of days, but Doc said that is to be expected as I reach the final stages of pregnancy.

Eyes open, my gaze tracing the pattern on the ceiling, I strain to listen for sounds of life. The quality of the house Slash built a decade and a half ago for his fiancée and son stops the noise of everyone else going about their evening from filtering into my bedroom, however, I can imagine them getting ready for a movie in the den. Crystal will be cleaning the already spotless kitchen. My nesting instinct is driving her batty since she thinks I need to rest more and tidy up less, so she tries to head me off by making everything sparkle while I’m sleeping.

It’s almost time for the prospects to rotate out, the fresh bodies to take up guarding my home for the night shift. The younger generation of the Shamrocks continual avoidance of the compound has turned my home into a substitute clubhouse during lockdown. It’s not quite big enough, so a lot of the single brothers have chosen to split their time between the compound and here to leave the lower floor free to accommodate the families with younger children.

Delia is one of them.

Much to her disgust.

Poor Toker.

Huffing and puffing, I reach for my phone, intent on checking in on my cousin. Garrett’s crib catches my eye, reminding me that I need to get Toker or one of my brothers to assemble the twin’s cots this weekend. I’ve put them off for weeks, thinking that Lazarus would be around to do it. In his absence, I’ve been praying that Slash would choose to step up.

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