Page 61 of Seizing Control: Part Two

“A few months is no comparison to a lifetime, metukà shelì.” Lazarus takes a decisive step back to give me space to inch toward the door. “Go to him, sweet thing. Do your best to love him. ’Cause, I’m content to give you time to discover the hard way that he’s a lost cause, as long as you don’t try to evict me from your life while you’re learning that lesson.” Breathing steadily, he gives me his back. I watch as he texts someone on his phone, then my first love lifts Garrett to his shoulder to bounce him when he starts getting fussy. “Aunty Nads is gonna bring you a bottle, little man.”

The love in his voice breaks through the wall I’ve tried to build around my heart.

I sniff, refusing to acknowledge the tears that brim, as I close the distance between us. After pressing a kiss to the back of my son’s head, I place my palm against Lazarus’ chest. Directly over his heart. Right over the spot where my name is inked. The fear I feel at losing Slash is ramped up when I recognise the same ambivalence in my first love’s expression.

His promises are conditional.

He wants me to choose him.

To make a choice I refuse to make.

“I love you.”

His spine stiffens, and there’s agony in his voice when he tells me, “I love you more.”

It goes against my instincts to the leave the “Property of” vest on the floor when I pass it to exit the bedroom. I feel like I’m making a fatal error chasing down my husband without a visible reminder of our connection when it’s the only tangible thing I have to give him. I didn’t go through with the cherub tattoo. The scalpel on the inside of my wrist—something Lazarus is yet to comment on—burns with recognition.

Somehow it feels insufficient.

My best friend offers me a sympathetic look when I pass through the kitchen.

“You can’t make him bend to your will, Anna,” Nadia murmurs. My footsteps falter at the truth in her warning. “All you can do is lay out your cards, and allow him to make up his own mind.”

Hands braced on the kitchen counter, I snort. “Are you talking about Lazarus or Slash?”

“Is there a difference?” Shaking Garrett’s bottle, Nadia follows me to the front door. “You fell in love with headstrong, egotistical men who’d literally kill for you. Fuck, one of them died for you. That’s gotta come with a downside or two.”

“Don’t I know it.”

We lapse into silence as I retrieve my handbag from the hook near the main door. I sling it over my shoulder, my movements stilling when one of my babies kicks. Hands shaking, I trace the swell of my belly with both hands. The future stability of the children I carry and the little boy being cared for by Lazarus upstairs has never felt more consequential than it does right now.

I have a son from Slash and twins that I somehow know belong to Lazarus.

It’s a dream come true for a woman who wasn’t sure she’d ever be blessed with children.

Somehow, even my blessings become poisoned chalices.

I’ve got to make two men love me more than they resent each other.

An impossible desire.

Yet it’s my only hope.

“Drive safely,” Nadia tells me after she hugs me tight. “I’ll let you know if Laz leaves.”

“Thanks.”

Avoiding Wyatt’s questioning look, I pause at the end of the driveway so the security firm that shadows me everywhere can finish their preparations for my impromptu pre-sunrise trek to the Shamrocks compound. I’m unsure how Lazarus knows that my husband has headed for the Shamrocks clubhouse, but I trust that he’s given me accurate intel. Wyatt and the newest prospect, Torin, also mount their bikes as I’m bundled into a bulletproof vehicle.

With my contingent of blacked-out SUVs and two Harleys escorting me, the drive is quick and safe. The compound gates are opened before we reach them, almost like I was expected. They close behind me, blocking me inside the compound that I’ve avoided like the plague since I buried Zeke.

“He’s in his room,” Cub tells me when I enter the main bar.

“Thank you.”

Although his fingers haven’t skipped a beat on his keyboard, the man I consider an adopted brother hits me with a serious look. “Yell if you need anythin’.”

“I’ll be fine.”

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