Page 69 of Seizing Control: Part Two

As much as I’d argue that my reaction was warranted, it wasn’t helpful.

My violence should never touch my woman or our children.

When I’m the Adjudicator, I’ll be held to a standard higher than the people I judge.

If any member of the curia behaved like I did, they’d be stood down at a minimum.

Running my gaze over rigid Lily’s form, I recognise that I cannot allow myself to lapse like that again. We’re in the same room, yet with the distance between us, we could be in different postcodes. As I caress my woman with my gaze, balling my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching over and touching her, regret metaphorically kicks me in the teeth. I know that I need her in my life more than I need to soothe my ego. It’s the task of making Lily believe that where I keep falling over. Her faith in me, something that she admitted more than a year ago has been lacking due to my volatility, is crucial to the success of our relationship.

Lily rolls back on to her side to face me. “Can you go to sleep please? Your thinking is keeping me awake.”

“I’ll stop soon as you hear me out.”

“Pass.” She rolls her eyes, then sighs. A lump invades my throat when she murmurs, “You had your chance, Lazarus, and you blew it... wish you’d take the hint and leave me alone.”

“No c-an do—” I swallow hard when my voice cracks. “—Told you I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, metukà shelì... I’m more than happy to wait you out.”

“Good luck.” She delicately huffs and turns her back to me. “You’re gonna need it.”

I bite back a grin when she mutters something that sounds like at threat involving my balls, duct tape, and, curiously, a pair of stilettos. There is nothing sexier than an irate Lily to me. Her sassy mouth and hair-trigger temper have always been a turn-on, usually because her fiery side was only ever at risk of mildly scorching me. Now that I know what it’s like to live without her, and I also stand to lose access to my kids if she deems me too big of a danger to them, my mirth dies an instant death.

Future carelessness could incinerate me.

My tone is sober when I say, “Just go to sleep, Lil—once you’re ready to talk this through, you know where to find me. Here. With you and Garrett.”

This statement is met with silence.

In the cobalt glow, I trace the back of her head and the elegant curve of her exposed neck with a pleading gaze. The unspoken plea for Lily to turn back around goes unawarded. My exhaustion from weeks of training and cleaning up after Slash catch up with me. I adjust my feet on the ottoman, then I make myself as comfortable as I can in the rocking chair. It takes more effort than it should, but I eventually coax my eyelids shut and block out the sight of my woman and her literal cold shoulder.

On cue, just like it has every night since I found her following Slash’s torment and my new life began to unravel, my mind’s eye immediately jolts to life with technicolour visions. Images of the men I’ve tortured and killed. Remembrances of past failures and current missteps. Mirages of better days ahead—mine and Layla’s list complete so I can live my life in the light with my woman and kids.

I exhale raggedly when I’m assailed by visions of Lily’s tearstained face when I found her naked and restrained to Slash’s bed. His handprints reddening her arse. The smell of her arousal hanging in the air. Her despair cloaked her like a perpetual cloud. The keening sound, a cry I’ve only heard from her once before, still echoes in my ears. It was a symphony of heartbreak that tumbled unrestrained from her lips in the aftermath of Slash’s brutality. She mourned the cruelty of her husband and made excuses for him when all I wanted to do is put a bullet between his eyes.

I still want to kill him.

I should kill him.

Regardless of my promise to Lily.

If I had the choice, I’d rather make her a widow than a divorcée.

It’s not a viable option right now—I’m hamstrung by my promise to Lily and Gabriel’s decree. He is important to the Trinity, so I’m not allowed to come after him. The silver lining is the knowledge that I’m not precluded from hurting him. I figure that’s why he remains holed up in the compound with twenty-four seven security protecting him.

Hired hands, not club brothers...

The wanker wanted to be the national president.

He has alienated the entire club instead.

Team Cherub has the numbers.

Everyone has rallied around my sweet thing. They’re determined to put her back together in the wake of another loss. This time, they’re supporting her through the end of a marriage rather than a death, but the sentiment is similar. I feel their care and affection for her. Hear the conversations that happen throughout the day. They are devastated for Lily, angry at Slash for leaving her and refusing to acknowledge Garrett, and bitter over his failure to lead the club properly. Because of this, the house is always full of bikers, old ladies, and kids. It’s a nightmare for me since it hampers my ability to come and go as I please. The only reason I’ve been able to slip inside every night is due to Layla and my team, Nadia’s distractions, and, of all people, Hunter.

Team Slash is a solitary group.

Numbering two members in total—the cruel prick, himself, and Meeyal.

The continuing presence of my boss’ son is Slash’s saving grace.

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