Page 112 of Seizing Control: Part Two

I make a hissing sound that grabs their full attention.

“Metukà shelì.” Lazarus’ fingers flex around mine. He runs his free hand through his much shorter hair, an unconscious action that makes me yearn for simpler times. Standing, he leans over me. “Tell me what you need.”

“Wh-y...” My dry mouth gets the better of me. I can’t speak. The single word I managed came out like a frog’s croak. Slash holds a cup with a straw to my lips. I suck down the ice water, relishing the coolness that soothes my throat. “Why are you still here?”

“We’re here to look after you,” my husband states.

Lazarus inclines his head as he places the ice water back on the tray. “Whatever you need, just let us know and we’ll get it done.”

As I take them in, the seriousness in their expressions, the identical resolve in their eyes, my heart does a flip-flop in my chest. They’re making it sound so easy, like they’ve flipped a switch while I was sleeping, and the angst, hatred, and drama of the past year has just evaporated.

Poof.

Like a puff of smoke, the bad blood is gone.

In its place stands two men who love me more than they love getting their own way.

“I don’t...” Buying myself time to formulate the right response, I grab the cup and suck down some more water. As my gaze wavers between my husband and my first love, the intensity with which they’re watching me suck on the straw is unnerving. “I don’t understand.” When I pin Lazarus with a pointed look, he responds with a tentative smile. His rugged face, too fierce to ever be labelled handsome, yet attractive by most standards is radiates raw power and contentedness. “I’ve ignored you for weeks, why are you sticking around?”

“You called for me, Lil... I’m here.”

“But—”

“Sweet thing, I was on my way back to you anyway.” He peers at me with a knowing gleam in his multicoloured gaze as he settles back into his seat. I scan his countenance for signs that he’s wavering in his resolution. Lips quirked pleasantly, expression open, there’s nothing but cool insistence in my first love’s eyes as he tells me, “Not going anywhere—so it’s up to you how long you keep the cold shoulder going. I’ll still be here when you’re done.”

“Still—”

“Still, nothing, metukà shelì... facts are facts.”

My cheeks fill with heat as Lazarus skims my face with a lascivious claim that I do my best to endure without giving him the reaction he’s clearly seeking. When it becomes evident that my first love isn’t going to break first, I avert my gaze. My husband is less determined, his perfectly symmetrical features filled with apology and stern regard. Slash sets his shoulders, the hand clutching mine tightening as if he’s readying himself to deny my rejection.

“You ask-ed for a divorce.” My voice cracks over the mild word that is wholly inadequate to describe the way my husband demanded the end of our marriage. He shifts uncomfortably, his ice-blue gaze locking with Lazarus’ for a heartbeat before returning to meet mine again. “I am so happy that you’re ready to accept Garrett, and hopefully the twins.” The two men exchange a look I can’t read. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be here for me—we’re not beholden to each other.”

“The divorce papers are unsigned which means you’re my wife.” Such a simple statement from a man who wanted to get away from me so much that he attempted to kill himself. As my attention strays to the bandage on his head, Slash tightens his grip on my fingers and strokes his thumb along my knuckles. “To echo Lazarus... facts are facts, and I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Don’t care how long it takes you to forgive me for my fuckups.”

“I was...” Trailing off, I swallow down the lump that lodges in my throat at the thought of dissolving my failed marriage. My main reticence in granting Slash the divorce he requested was the need to have my new house purchase settled beforehand. I’m not taking his home from him. Just like I’m not accepting the money from Zeke’s will either. “I’ll sign them as soon as I can.”

“You’re not stupid, duchess.” Pushing back to his feet, my husband bends over me. He takes the empty cup away, handing it to Lazarus before he curls his fingers around my throat and gently pins me to the pillows propping me up. Goosebumps flare over my skin as he brushes his lips to mine and murmurs. “You know as well as I do that my demand for a divorce was a cowardly act. I never wanted one... not here—” Slash takes hold of my wrist and presses my palm to his chest. “—in my heart. ’Til death do us part, wife.”

“And I’m going to make you legally mine too as soon as my 2IC finishes working out the technicalities,” Lazarus offers.

Slash nods his agreement with my first love’s proclamation.

Hope flares in my heart.

My soul fills with craving.

The voice in my head—the smart one that should be mounting a protest, not the one that sounds like Alex—retreats behind a veil of elation.

When my husband kisses me a second time, Lazarus smooths my hair from my forehead.

Frozen to the spot, breathless and speechless, I feel myself falling back under their spell.

In his portable cot, Garrett makes a snuffling sound.

It’s the reality check I need.

A timely reminder.

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