Page 144 of Seizing Control: Part Two

I was wrong.

It was my psyche at risk the entire time.

My fear of what it would mean to be loved by them both was a warning.

I’m not going to survive them both with my independence intact and sanity undamaged.

They will be my annihilation—heart, body, and soul.

I am their willing victim.

Their woman.

So, heart in my throat, I do exactly what Lazarus always accuses me of doing.

I deflect from the truth I am unable to blindly accept without complete trust in their truce.

“These stitches need to come out,” I remark with faux placidity. Pushing at Slash’s shoulders, I put space between us. He allows me the reprieve I need, languidly leaning against the headboard with a slight upturn to his lips. “This shouldn’t hurt too much, but it might be a little tender in spots.”

“Have at it, wife.”

My insides turn to mush as he voices his claim on me.

The hand holding the tweezers is steady when I carefully snip the sutures. One by one, I pull the nylon thread from his wound. It’s a tedious job, but I’m thankful for the much-needed distraction. After cleaning the long, almost healed laceration, I press a clean bandage to his skin, then on autopilot I press a soft kiss to his temple.

“All done.”

Seemingly unaffected by the whiplash of my emotions, Slash hands me the sandwich he made for me, then he climbs out of bed to clean up the mess I’ve made tending to him. Nibbling on the perfectly made chicken BLT, I observe him with blooming hope. It seems like my husband is content to have his say, then let things lie for a while. He doesn’t seem eager to push the point like my first love would do in the same situation.

Once we’re in bed, the lights dimmed, and the pillows plump beneath our heads, I allow my eyes to flutter shut. The exhaustion that’s stalked me since I was rushed to hospital a week ago catches up with me quickly. I link my fingers through Slash’s, mainly for comfort, but also to keep his hand from straying anywhere near my stomach. His thumb strokes the underside of my too heavy breasts. They are overly sensitive, alerting me that it won’t be long before I’ll need to express again.

“What are we gonna tomorrow, duchess?” Slash’s breath rushes over my neck when he nuzzles his nose through my hair. “Apart from church in the afternoon, my day is free, so I’m all yours.”

“What if we take Garrett for a walk, then bring him to see his brother and sister?”

“Sounds like a plan,” my husband remarks. He shifts subtly, his toes running along my calf in steady stokes. “When we take that walk tomorrow, wife, we should check on the progress of your new house.”

With a rush, I lurch upright, one hand holding my stomach while the other is pressed to my mouth. Slash turns on the bedside lamp. Rolling onto his side, head braced on his hand with his elbow digging into his pillow, he peers at me with a placidness that I don’t trust.

“It’s not what it looks like.” My excuse is rushed. “I’m not leaving you...”

“I know.”

My breath stutters in my lungs.

He knows...

How is that possible when I didn’t even know it myself until a few days ago?

26

LAZARUS

As I edge the door to Lily’s bedroom open, readying myself to find my woman with her husband wrapped around her, I expect them to be asleep. It’s been more almost two hours since they headed upstairs, my sweet thing enraged at our heavy-handed tactics, while Slash was mildly amused at her shock. She’s a smart woman, so she should’ve known how things would go once she lost the ability to dictate her visitor list like she could at the hospital.

It’s almost cute.

Her ongoing incredulity.

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