Page 159 of Seizing Control: Part Two

Grovel.

Atone.

Beg.

Actions.

Time.

Space.

The small snippets I catch are disconcerting. Every piece of suggestion seems to direct Cherub to take her time letting me and Lazarus back into her life. Her words from upstairs echo around my head. I promised her time and space, but I’m yet to follow through on it. It hurts to think about leaving her again, even if it’s only in the form of different bedrooms. Reciprocating the belief that she maintained in me while I dragged my miserable arse from chapter to chapter on the east coast feels like a better way to prove that I’m not going to run again.

Leaving her alone to contemplate a future without me is counterintuitive.

She’ll survive in my absence.

I won’t.

I need her like I need oxygen.

Nodding while she furtively peeks my way, it appears my wife doesn’t feel the same.

“Thinkin’ I’m in trouble here, little man,” I tell my son as I situate him in his pram. He laughs at my predicament, then bats at the monitor attached to the retractable shade that keeps the sun off him. He knows he’s exempt from my wife’s vengeance since he’s innocent and all. “You’re no help, are ya?”

My son doesn’t respond. He’s too busy filling his nappy with the smelly remnants of the breakfast I fed him to care about my predicament. By the time I’ve changed Garrett’s diaper and secured him in the pram again, my duchess and her gaggle of friends are ready to leave for a slow and steady walk.

Sans the two drunken members the M&M girls are dressed for a hike.

Which is good considering the hospital made it clear that the fastest way for Cherub to heal was gentle walking. She was militant about taking two strolls a day during her inpatient stay, and it seems nothing has changed upon her return home. When I follow them out of the electronic gates, Lazarus’ team leading the way with the prospects on guard duty bringing up the rear, I want to kill every man within a mile radius for being privy to the sight of my wife’s arse in workout leggings. While I as occupied, someone talked her into discarding her usual oversized t-shirt and replacing it with one of the tight razor back singlets she favoured before pregnancy. My money is on Nadia, since she’s the M&M member who smirks widest when I growl at the jogger who does a double take after he passes my duchess.

The other women have deliberately dressed down to prove a point whereas my wife’s outfit showcases every generous curve. Facing the risk that my teeth will be ground to nubs before we reach the first corner, I figure this scheme has something to do with the grovelling they believe I need to commence. As we round the bend that leads us onto the street my wife’s new home fronts onto and a carload of idiots catcall my woman, I hit them all with a stink eye.

“Suck it up, sugar plum,” Gabbi tells me.

I scowl at her use of Lazarus’ insult.

How much does this girl know about the inner workings of our life?

I’d hazard a guess it’s more than she should, and that means I need Cub to check her out.

Halting a step inside the double gates, I take in Cherub’s beautiful home with fresh eyes. It’s a Tudor style mini mansion. Similar to the house I designed for my burgeoning family more than a decade ago, but full of the charm that mine is missing. With an elevated front entrance and a façade that has been updated to keep up with the times, this is the perfect place to raise a family. It’s secure. State-of-the-art. Next door to my parents new residence and adjacent to the house Atlas recently purchased for his little sister. This is the beginning of Lazarus’ plan to create a brand-new enclave for the Shamrocks and his curia. It’s long overdue. A fresh start in a place that Brutus cannot describe to the Maddison’s. He never attended a function at my home. The schematics online are fake, uploaded by Cub to the council’s records with a layout that will discombobulate anyone who tries to break in.

Of course, Bebe Du Bois knows my home like the back of her hand.

Which is only one of the reasons I’m on board with my rival’s scheming.

A new beginning for my wife and kids is more important than my pride which is why I pushed aside my jealousy to partner with Lazarus, Nadia, and my mumma to ensure that this home has everything Cherub requires to be safe and sound—with or without me in her life.

There are zero memories attached to this building.

No emotional attachments to hamper her quest from independence.

It doesn’t sit well with me, makes me feel like I’m losing her, but I am ignoring the niggle in my gut that tells me this move has the potential to backfire on us. Lazarus is certain that it’s the right move. When I can get a kind word out of her, Mumma sounds quietly optimistic.

Nadia’s exuberance is worrying. She has the same gleam in her eye that she gets whenever she’s about to set something on fire. The unpredictable woman was oddly enthused to work with us to bring the renovations to completion, yet she’s made no bones about the fact that she feels like Cherub is letting us back into her life too easily.

A major issue with Nadia Appleton is desire for revenge.

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