Page 143 of Seizing Control: Part Two

No more secrets.

No more leaving.

Even if things get tough again.

“Give me a sec,” I tell him. Ducking back into the bathroom, I grab the small first-aid kit from beneath the basin. Slash eyes me warily when I approach him. “Your bandage needs changing.”

“Been changin’ it every mornin’.” His comment is made in a tone that should be used to discuss the weather, not the result of a suicide attempt. “Need the stitches out soon, but.”

“If they’re ready, I can do it tonight.”

Perching on the mattress next to him, I lay out everything I think I’ll need on top of his outstretched thighs. It’s two-fold, forcing him to sit still and making it clear that I’m going to tend to him whether he likes it or not. Experienced at removing stitches, thanks to Zeke, Slash, and Toker’s various injuries over the years, I am determined to examine my husband’s injury myself.

With my fingernail, I carefully peel the sticky part of the bandage away from his skin until the wound is revealed. Curving over his skull, from his temple to the lower portion of his crown, I can ascertain exactly how he tried to end his life. Somehow, with the muzzle notched beneath his chin, he’s slipped, and the bullet has gouged a path along his scalp instead. Stitches aside, the wound is shallow enough to have bled a lot without being life-threatening.

A lump lodges in my throat.

This wasn’t a cry for help.

Slash was serious about dying.

I swallow, once, twice, three times. My eyes burn and my chin wobbles. There’s a tremble in my hand as I reach for the sharp-edged tweezers that will cut through the stitches. I can’t blink, otherwise the tears I’m fighting back will spill down my face, so I sniff to ease the agony that grips my heart.

“Baby.” The big man wraps his fingers around my wrist. I bite down on my bottom lip when I force my gaze to meet his. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was... you saw me and Lazarus together.”

“That hurt,” he admits slowly. Nodding, I try to pull free of his grip, but he doesn’t let me. “Had nothin’ on the pain I felt knowin’ that I’ve hurt you—that I’ve violated you... more than once.” Slash uses the hand that isn’t holding my wrist to trace the curve of my bottom lip. Using his thumb, he tugs it free of my teeth, then swipes the blood with the pad before sucking it from his skin. I whimper, blinking to avoid the darkening of his gaze, and it sends two trails of tears running down my cheeks. “Fuckin’ kills me... makes me feel like a monster.”

“What does?”

“Admittin’ that I enjoy shovin’ my fingers inside you when you don’t want it.” Waves of dark desire crash through me. I press my thighs together when my clit pulses, determined to contain my craving for his touch. “Understandin’ that restrictin’ your breath makes me harder than I’ve ever been. Realisin’ that I like the way your unwillin’ body grips my cock tight as I take what I want from you without explicit permission.” Another whimper. This one filled with shame over the reaction I’m having to his crude depiction of my sexual preferences. “When I held the muzzle beneath my chin and pulled the trigger, I was certain it was the right thing to do. I was settin’ you free... leavin’ you under the protection of the man you deserve.”

Shaking my head, I whisper, “No.”

“Lazarus found me... and he told me I was an idiot for thinkin’ that you didn’t want me.”

“He’s right, Carter.”

“I know.” My husband lets go of my wrist to collar my throat. “He says you like our brutality.”

His statement strips me of all pretence.

I’m not sure who moves first, but my mouth crashes into Slash’s a heartbeat later.

My husband kisses me hard.

Just the way I like it.

“I do,” I confess out loud for the first time. For almost five years, I danced around this truth. Zeke never expected me to verbalise it. He simply gave me what I needed, and allowed me the comfort of my denial of the dark needs that keep me stable. “I do.”

“And that’s why we’re gonna give you the time and space you asked for... with caveats.” Slash presses his lips to my forehead and curls his arm around my lower back. Holding me gently, like I’m infinitely precious, he tells me, “You won’t respect us if we let you have it all your own way. There’s no way we can rebuild your trust or prove that our truce is gonna last if you stop us from bein’ who we are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You married a monster, baby... and before that, you fell in love with a savage. We take what we want while givin’ you what you need... and you can fight us all you like, but that’s the way it’s gonna stay.” A shudder runs the length of my spine as his cruel words wash over me. “The only way forward is together. The three of us. So, you can have your boundaries when there’s an audience. Time and space are negotiable, too... in the daylight.” Chucking me under the chin, my husband nudges my head back. He stares down at me with brutal honesty etched in his features. “In the dark, duchess, we’re in control. That’s non-negotiable.”

Months ago, I feared that my love would be the catalyst for their destruction.

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