A.J. ran into the men’s area and I followed, avoiding that conversation at an expert level. When Twitch picked up a pair of dress pants, I kept my eye on A.J., and said, “You don’t wear suits anymore.”
Not a question, just an observation.
He grinned down at me. “Always did like me in a suit, didn’t ya, baby?”
God, he was infuriating. I could be a jerk too, you know? “I liked you alive.”
As I walked away, his hand snaked out, gripping my hand tightly, pulling me back, and when I was close, he pulled me to stand in front of him as he held up a black suit, and muttered, “I mean, I could get it, but where the fuck would I wear it?”
“You could have worn it to your funeral,” I murmured, bored-like.
And he blinked down at me. “I thought you were a volunteer.”
So, that was off topic. My brows arched. “I am.”
“Nah.” He shook his head slowly. “You’re a fuckin’ comedian.” When a surprised laugh left me, he went on. “That your side gig?” I laughed harder and his lip twitched. “When’s your next show? Get me a front row seat.” I couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard and he lightly smacked my butt. “Fuckin’ smartass. You better watch that mouth or I might have to fill it with something.”
My mouth opened and I couldn’t believe myself. “With what?”
He looked down at my smirking mouth and ran his tongue along his bottom lip. His voice was low, husky. “Something hard.”
I looked down, right at his crotch, feeling bold. “I am hungry.”
Oh my God. Stop.
Twitch’s eyes flashed, and when he moved to seize me, I expertly avoided his grabby hands, making my way over to our son. “Okay, honey. I think we’re good to go.”
A.J. looked mildly devastated. “But you always let me go on the playground.”
I made a hesitant sound in my throat. “We’ve already been here a while. Daddy’s probably getting bored.”
“Daddy,” came from behind me, “is never bored when he’s with his family.” When I rolled my eyes, he uttered, “You wanna go on the playground, bud? Let’s do it.”
We walked out of the mall and into the afternoon sun. The second I gave A.J. the go-ahead, he ran into the outdoor playground, running into the throw of other children and rushing up the stairs to the top of the slide, waving at us while beaming. When a father I regularly saw waved to me, I smiled and waved back. And that was when a hard body came to press into my back.
I turned to face him and asked a low, “What are you doing?” His face was close and all I wanted to do was lightly run my nails down that sharp jawline. One strong arm came around my back while the other landed with a smack on my ass, and I yelped in surprise. “Twitch!”
He looked down at me, challenging me to fight him. “Looks like you know some of the other daddies around these parts.”
Oh, Lord. Was he jealous?
He was being ridiculous, and when the large hand gripping my ass cheek squeezed, I swallowed hard. “A.J. plays with his daughter sometimes.” Oh, God, it felt good, but... “Let go of me.”
Those soft brown eyes hooded. “Either I hold onto you, or,” he spoke dangerously low, “I hold onto his neck.” My lips parted and he focused on them. “Up to you, baby.”
I thought about that. Part of me knew he would never make a scene. Not here anyway, and never in front of A.J. The other part of me didn’t want to risk never being allowed back to the mall again.
A long moment passed before I allowed myself to fall into him, and when I did, I was rewarded with another hard squeeze before he slid that hand into my jeans pocket, holding me close.
And Twitch was right. We had a great day.
As a family.
By the time we left the mall, Twitch carried his son on one side and held me close on the opposite. We were his accessories and he wore us with pleasure, his chest puffing out with a smugness I’d never seen him wear. And it was nice.
Everything was going well. That was, until we walked back to the car and he hesitated, focused on a man walking toward us. I frowned as the man stilled in his step, looking at Twitch as though he’d just seen an apparition.
I know the feeling.
Twitch’s hesitation only lasted a second before we started to walk again, and when we passed the tall, olive-skinned man with dark eyes and thick brows, Twitch jerked his chin to him but did not stop walking. “What’s up, Sadik?”
We left the man wide-eyed and open-mouthed in shock, and when we were safely seated in the car, I turned to Twitch, and uttered quietly, “Who was that?”
Twitch responded just as quietly, “That was the person who’s going to let it be known to every fucker in Sydney that the king is back.”
Oh, shit.
“C’mon, angel.” He scratched at his jaw, looking out the window. “Let’s go home.”
***
Aslan The Fucking Turk
The moment she answered the phone, I stated urgently, “We need to talk.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.
“Baby,” I started, still shocked. “I’m pretty sure I just saw a ghost.”
Chapter Twenty
Ling
“It’s not possible.” I paced, unable to take a full breath into my lungs. I paused to look at Aslan. “It wasn’t him.”
Az sat on the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees while covering his mouth with his fingers. At my hesitance, he straightened. “It was, Ling.” When I wasn’t convinced, he stood. “I saw him with my own eyes, baby.” But I still wasn’t swayed. He put a hand to his good hip and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know what I fucking saw. It was him. He even stopped a sec and said, ‘What’s up, Sadik?’”
I don’t know who Aslan saw, but it wasn’t Twitch. It couldn’t be. He was dead. I went to the fucking funeral. I spent months mourning until Julius took pity on me and gave me a job, a home, and a new life.
No.
It wasn’t Twitch.
Az was confused.
Yes, that was it.
He was confused, or at least I thought he was, until he went on. “I swear to God, Ling. It was Twitch.” His eyes implored and he let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not crazy. He was with a woman about this tall.” He put his hand up at a certain height. “A pretty one in that girl next door kind of way. She had long, wavy brown hair, big blue eyes, a little curvy body with a nice rack on her.”
My heart jolted.
That sounded like Alexa Ballentine.
But what he said next confirmed my beautiful Turk wasn’t as crazy as I hoped he was. “And he was holding a little boy,” he stated sincerely. “A little boy who looked just like him.”
No.
I shook my head and Aslan sighed, rolling his eyes. “Baby. I know what I saw.” He implored patiently, “Ling, please. Would I lie to you?”
I didn’t think he would, but people closer to me had betrayed me before, so I wouldn’t discount the idea.
There was only one way to find out.
My stomach clenched.
I would hunt down Lexi.
***
Lexi
I was nervous.
Oh, God, was I nervous.
Alone in the house, I sat on the edge of my bed and looked over at the light switch. A moment passed and I huffed out a breath, standing then moving toward it, but I faltered in the dark, turning away and covering my mouth with shaking hands.
Was this really a good idea?
I thought about it a second.
No, said my heart.
My brain agreed, shaking its head.
I shouldn’t be doing this, but I really, really wanted to. It had been too long. I needed it so badly that I disregarded every good sense I had and strode across the room.
And when I did what I did, I sat on the vanity stool in my silken kimono and waited.
***
Twitch
As I passed the window, I blinked over at the house and frowned.
That frown deepened when I lifted my wrist to check my watch.
11:51 p.m.
I looked back at the house, holding onto my frown, but then a small smile cut into the darkness.
My voice was low. “I’ll be damned.”
She left a light on.
***
Lexi