Page 45 of Seizing Control: Part Two

I tote my steaming cup into the den and set up the baby monitor on the coffee table.

The prospect manning the front door ducks his head inside to check on me. In answer to his unspoken question, I give him a nod to verify that I’m fine. He pulls the door shut, leaving me in peace while he completes his rounds. The layers of security are insane. The Shamrocks have recruited half a dozen new prospects, bought into a protection agency as an expansion of our legitimate businesses, and hired an army of well-paid bodyguards who’ve been individually verified by the Trinity, Cub, and Gabriel.

I’m surrounded by protectors.

Well-armed, highly trained defenders.

The escalation in security would normally worry me.

I hated lockdown whenever my father called it.

Nowadays, with Garrett to protect and another baby on the way, it makes me feel safe.

Curled up on the couch, a smaller cushion between my knees and a bigger one propping me up, I flick through the available movies. Nothing catches my attention. I sip my Milo and contemplate the other options. The same thing happens with the television shows when none of the promotional videos appeal to me.

Everything reminds me of Slash.

As happy as I’ve been with Lazarus, I miss my husband.

I’m a selfish woman.

I want them both.

In person.

Together.

This half-life of texts and secret night visits isn’t going to cut it for much longer. My twenty-week scan is scheduled for this afternoon. I’m at the halfway point of my pregnancy, and I still don’t know if I’m going to have either of the men that I love in the delivery room with me. As much as I love Crystal and Nadia, it’s not the same.

I want Lazarus and Slash with me.

Just like they have been for almost every other milestone in my life.

“Well, me matey, what do we ’ave here.” Nadia turns on her worst pirate accent as she pushes open the door and swaggers into the den with her high heels clutched in her hand. Judging by her outfit, and her mussed hair and makeup, my best friend has spent the night out clubbing. “If it isn’t my favourite secretive sex kitten. Did your piece of man meat in the expensive suit leave early today?”

I scan her face to see if she’s joking.

Nope.

Is she high?

Her normal sized pupils tell me that that’s also a negative.

“What are you talking about?” Deciding to play her comment off as a joke, I point the remote at the tv and flick through the same options I’ve already skimmed. “I’m pregnant with a seven-week-old son, the only one of us getting any man meat—” I make air quotes around the word. “—is you.”

“Lies.” Nadia tosses her heels in the corner, then stumbles over to the couch and collapses onto the cushion next to mine. She smells like tequila and regret when she snuggles into my side. I run my fingers through her tangled hair and pray that she’ll pass out. I’m not sure how to handle this conversation without Lazarus confirming that she knows, and I don’t want to deliberately lie to her if it’s okay to tell her the truth. With a yawn, she chides me, “You shouldn’t keep secrets from me, Anna. I’m your best friend, and I’m going through a bad breakup. My life’s a mess... I need to live vicariously through you.”

So, the passing out isn’t going to happen.

Unscheduled drunken chat with my sad and drunk bestie, it is...

“The only secret I’m keeping right now is the location of the chocolate ice cream I have hidden in one of the freezers.” When Nadia looks at me with clear scepticism, I lean close and whisper, “They’re in the bottom of the box of fish fingers.”

“I saw him, Cherub... spoke to him. Venom has been sneaking into your room every night for a week. He looks completely different, wants me to call him by a different name, but I’m not stupid... it’s him.”

It was a week ago that Lazarus started letting me sleep through while he headed downstairs to warm up Garrett’s bottle himself. Drawing in a steadying breath, I tamp down on my angst, and try to work out how to knock her off the scent without upsetting her. Every idea I turn over in my head leads me into another pitfall.

I decide to make her second guess herself.

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