Page 108 of Seizing Control: Part Two

“Pfft. I wanted to die... you fucked that up.”

When he realises what he just said, Everett spins on his heel and ambles lopsidedly away. We all watch him leave, various levels of unease on our faces. It was clear that the injured man’s accidental overdose was a cry for help, but hearing him confirm that it was a full-blown suicide attempt still catches us by surprise.

Not that I’m in any position to judge him.

My guilt ratchets up as I’m forced to examine my weakness in the light.

I tried to kill myself.

After I level a pleading look her way, Mumma turns her back on me.

I can’t meet my dad’s eyes when he takes hold of my shirt and pulls me close. “Never been more disappointed in you than I am in this moment. You weren’t raised to give up, weren’t raised to hurt your mumma or your wife like this. I could cut you slack over the little man, give you time to adjust, but suicide... fuck me, son. It never needed to get to that point. All you had to do was swallow your goddamned pride.”

“I know.”

Dad shakes his head, ready to tear further strips off me, when Nadia pushes her way between us. Lazarus has been watching our interaction with an impenetrable look that turns into a frown as she comes up behind him and taps him on the shoulder. He turns around to face her, recoiling a moment later when she punches him in the throat. The pompous prick stumbles, clutching at his neck while he makes a choking sound.

“You broke your promise.” When Lazarus tries to speak, Nadia pokes him in the chest. “If you abandon her again without an explanation, I’ll make it permanent—a marshmallow corpse fire that they see in space.”

I laugh when confusion clouds his eyes.

The crazy blonde rounds on me.

In her green gaze, the tightness stiffening her shoulders, I see pain and fear.

Feelings she wants to share.

Nadia drives the pointy toe of her boot into my shin. She kicks me in the knee, hyperextending my joint until I’m forced to instinctively hunch forward. Emanating rage, she grabs a fistful of my collar and yanks my head closer to hers.

“If you don’t step up now, motherfucker, so help me... I’ll torture you just like you’ve tortured her with your bullshit, then I’ll build a pyre, and roast marshmallows over your corpse too.”

“Nads.” I use the steadiest tone I can manage as I attempt to reason with my wife’s best friend. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. My bullshit is done—I’m gonna step up.”

“Yeah.” She twists her hand, tightening the grip she until she’s choking me. “Prove it.”

“Anythin’—” I bend my knees to loosen the material constricting my breathing. “—Tell me what you want.” The malicious gleam in her eyes doesn’t bode well for me, and my voice comes close to hitting falsetto as Nadia screws her hand to increase the pressure. “Jesus. Fuck. Tell me what I have to do to prove it.”

She chuckles, then bops me hard on the end of the nose with her other hand. “Say, Garrett.”

My knees are shaking as the awkward position she has me in starts to take its toll. “Garrett.”

“Say, my son.”

“My son.”

“Mumma C.” Nadia uses my mother’s club name to gain her attention. “Bring the little man here.”

I figure out her next move as she loosens the straps securing my son in his pram. Letting go of my shirt, she lifts him out with movements that speak of experience. An indication of an involvement with my son that I haven’t had. When that realisation stabs me in the heart, the weakness in my legs has nothing to do with Nadia’s overprotectiveness of my wife.

It’s fear.

Pure unadulterated fear.

“Prove it, Slash.” Nadia passes the baby to me. “Hold your son.”

I swallow deep.

Look down at my hands.

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