But A.J. was a smart child and he hesitated, before asking a reluctant, “Are you mad at Daddy?”
I didn’t want to lie to him. I never had before, so I looked up at Twitch, looked him dead in his beautiful eyes, the same eyes that haunted my dreams for years, and stated a cold, “Yes, I am. And Daddy”—the word was sour on my tongue and made my stomach flip with unconcealed dread—“and I are going to talk about that.”
Molly led a concerned-looking A.J. out of the house, and the moment the door shut, I faltered, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do.
Twitch stood in the wide kitchen entrance, looking down at his feet, his jaw tight, and I took that moment to roam him.
Why?
Why were the years apart so kind to him when he didn’t deserve it? Why did he have to look the way he did?
He was dressed in dark fitted jeans that hugged his long legs, a tight black long-sleeved tee that showed off his broad chest and shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing his veiny, tattooed forearms. My throat tightened in a way that cut off my air supply.
It was so cruel. In my mind, I’d imagined him a thousand times looking just as he was right now, only in my dreams, I was happy to see him. A far cry from how I felt at the present.
Running a hand through his too-long hair, he paused to scratch as the too-long stubble on his sharp jaw and peeked up at me through his lowered gaze. His nose was swollen, and the purple bands under his eyes told me Julius hadn’t held back when he tore into him, and that pleased me. He ran a nervous tongue across his full bottom lip, his hands clenching then unclenching in a move that told me he might have been anxious, but I didn’t know for sure. This man had always been good at hiding his true emotions.
If he wasn’t anxious, he should have been.
When he spoke, I wanted to kill him myself. “I missed you.”
The intense fury that lit in my belly was warm but soon raged into a fiery inferno. I found the fucking words.
My voice was quiet, giving off false calm. “You missed me?”
Oh, no, he did not. I know he did not try it.
A single step closer, a whole new level of rage. “You missed me?” Another step, another internal meltdown. Eyes wild, I whispered, “Is that what you said just now? You missed me?”
My heart was beating so fast I thought I might be having a heart attack. It wouldn’t have surprised me, given the circumstances. It was already broken anyways, so what was a malfunction to boot?
Twitch looked me right in the eye, that smooth whiskey voice floating over me as I seethed. “That’s what I said, baby.”
My neck began to heat with raw fury. My hands shook, and when I took the final step over to him, I looked up into his face and blinked at the gall of this man.
When I lifted my hand, reared back, and slapped him across the cheek as hard I could, the sound echoed in the open space surrounding us. He barely flinched, and that only made me madder. Panting, I grit my teeth, raised my hand, and put as much force behind it as I could. When the loud crack sounded, my soul celebrated the way he winced from the blow.
My palms pulsed and prickled from the sheer force of the cracks. The pain was a welcome change to what I’d been feeling the last couple days. It was nice to feel something other than numb.
Suddenly, his broken nose started to bleed again and I reared back once more, lip curling, eyes wide, but before I could hit him another time, he caught my wrist, gripping it tightly in his grasp, staring at me penetratingly. “I’m sorry.” He gently ran his thumb over my thumping pulse and softened his tone. “I’m sorry, angel.”
My eyes flashed and my voice quivered, not from sadness but from unsullied anger. “You do not apologize for this. Do you hear me?” My breaths started coming in short, rapid pants. “You say sorry for accidentally stepping on somebody’s toes.” Lifting my hand, I smacked him across the arm. Smack. “You say sorry for buying the wrong brand of shampoo.” Smack. A harder strike. My voice lifted an octave. “You say sorry for coming home late, Tony.” Smack. My eyes stung with the force of my tears as I shook all over. “You do not say sorry for not coming home at all.” Smack.
Tears fell from my lashes and trailed my cheeks, and I couldn’t even find the care to be embarrassed about the way my nose ran.
Twitch’s body tensed with every hit I landed, but all he did was back himself into the kitchen, his jaw steeled, his brows drawn as he took what I needed to dole out. He moved away, and I followed in an unconventional dance I didn’t even know the steps to.
Every strike I dealt felt like a punishment on myself.
This was not who I was. This was the person he made me. And I hated him for it.
The blows came faster and faster and he moved slowly, his body rigid and unyielding, allowing me to back him up against the kitchen counter. My shaking arms flailed in all directions, not caring where the knocks landed, only that they did.
A distressed whimper left me. “How could you do this?” Whack. The words were rough. “How could you do this to me?” Thump. My voice cracked. “To him?” Smack. My body shook as I wept, and my blows weakened as my grief drained me like a cell phone battery. “I loved you, you asshole.” Thwack. When his eyes closed and he swallowed hard, I held my arm up, ready to strike again, but held it midair. My voice was weak, and I focused on the rapid beating of my heart, taking in a slow, trembling breath. “You do not apologize for this.” I dropped my arm, feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing. “Get the fuck out of my house, Twitch.”
As I walked back to my room, my palms hot and throbbing, I dealt a parting blow. “You should’ve stayed dead.”
I didn’t hear him leave.
Actually, I wasn’t even sure he did.
My window rattling in the dead of night woke me with a jolt to the heart.
I knew he would come.
It continued to rattle as he fought with it.
Which was exactly why I bolted it shut.
It was Wednesday, two days after I’d last seen my son’s father, and when I walked A.J. outside toward the car, I saw him waiting, leaning against the wide monstrosity of a gum tree on the corner of the block.
My heart stuttered, but I feigned indifference.
What a thought. Indifference to Twitch.
Yeah, right.
I wasn’t a very good liar, not even to myself.
The moment our son spotted him, he took off running, and I just didn’t have it in me to cause my son distress this morning, so I said nothing. Watching Twitch smile that crooked smile I loved so dearly was almost too much. The fact that it was aimed at our son officially made it too much.
Years.
He willingly missed out on years of A.J., and that hurt.
I wasn’t stupid. I got it. He didn’t want us then. Probably spent the last few years fucking around and sowing his seed, and now that he was likely bored of that life, he thought he’d give being a daddy a crack and see how that went. And after A.J. was nice and attached to his daddy, which I could see he already was, Twitch would leave him and I would be left to pick up the trail of destruction he left.
I couldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let that happen.
I died a slow, painful death as I walked over to them, sliding on my sunglasses, and did my best to ignore the man I once thought was a god. “A.J., we need to go, honey. Don’t want to be late for school.”
A.J. looked up at me, beaming. “Look!” He pointed at the house across the street, on the opposite side of the suburban crossroads. “Daddy lives there.”
An uneasy feeling crossed me. My brows knitted.
If I remembered correctly... “That house was on the market six months ago.”
Don’t you fucking tell me.
Nuh uh. Don’t do it.
Those soft brown eyes met mine. He uttered, “Five months ago,” and I just knew.
Oh, you motherfucker.
Would the blows ever stop coming?
He’d been here for months. Months.
My mind could barely function on the fact, and my heart rate spiked.