I’d do anything to get to my goal.
I licked my lips, before stating, “Your mummy and daddy gave you to me as a gift.”
His brow furrowed as his bullshit meter went off. “No, they didn’t.”
Okay. He was smarter than I gave him credit for.
My eyes narrowed at his insubordinace. “Yes, they did.”
“No.” He sat up in bed and looked me in the eye with a look I’d only ever seen his father make. It was pure, unrivalled anger. “You’re a liar.”
My lips stretched into a grin. “Is that so?” I leant in slowly and spoke calmly. “Then why haven’t they come to get you?”
It was a question he couldn’t answer, and the way his face void of emotion told me he was thinking about it. What he uttered next made my spine stiffen.
“You’re the bad lady.”
Ballsy little shit, he was.
I fucking loved it.
I expected him to be like Lexi, seeing as she brought him up, but the truth was, he was exactly like Twitch. And I could use that, manipulate that, mold him into the heir I deserved.
“I’m not a bad lady,” I lied softly, reaching out for him, but he shuffled away from my touch, looking meaner than a junkyard dog with fleas.
Nice.
This tiny little creature was definitely going to be a thorn in my side. An annoying little itch you couldn’t reach to scratch.
My mouth parted in a small gasp. That was it. That was what I was going to call him, my son.
“Itch,” I spoke into the silence of the room. “My little Itch.”
An ode to his father.
Yes. I smiled maternally at the little boy who looked like he wanted to shank me.
It was so strange. I already loved him. He was everything I thought he’d be and more. His attitude, his resilience, it was everything I needed to make him my successor.
Peering down at him warmly, my heart ached with joy with the comprehension that he was perfect. Just perfect.
Yes.
I loved him.
And I was not letting him go.
***
Twitch Sleep never came that night, and when dawn broke, my eyes settled on the woman sitting at the edge of the bed in her nightie, staring blankly into the wall.
It killed me to see her like this.
I wondered if this was how she was when I left, and a whole new level of guilt settled over me to see this beautifully resilient woman looking broken and shallow, when her love ran so deep. I didn’t like it, and my only thought was to fix it and fix it fast.
My phone chimed at the very same time the doorbell rang. I slid off the bed, holding my cell in my hand, and as I passed my woman, I put a gentle hand to her shoulder.
Her lack of response was a bullet to my heart.
I answered my cell the second I stepped out of the room. “Yeah.”
“Fuck, Twitch. Fuck. I...” He paused momentarily. “I don’t know what to say.” Ethan Black’s tone conveyed he already knew about my son. He sighed. “Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.”
The doorbell rang a second time, and I made my way over, throwing the door open. Sergeant Gabriel Blanco stood outside, coffee in hand, and I didn’t bother with niceties. With a jerk of my chin, he got the message and stepped inside as I responded to the head of the FBI. “I appreciate it, Black, but—” I told him the way it was. “—you can’t help me, man.”
My time spent working with this man was short, but in that brief time, we got to know each other. And Black read between the lines. “Listen to me now. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Motherfucker.
My grip on my cell tightened. “Don’t do anything stupid? That’s your advice?” My anger spiked. “This psycho fucking bitch took my son out from under my fuckin’ nose, caused the car he was in to careen off the goddamn road, and you want me to stay calm, Black?” I didn’t give a fuck if Blanco was in my house listening in; I said what I said. “The second I get my hands on that mutt, she’s dog food, Black.” My tone low, my voice trembled with fury. “You best believe I’mma make that happen by my own hands should I get the opportunity, and I fuckin’ hope I do, because nothing would make me happier than tearing that red-lipped viper limb from limb. And when I’m done with her, y’all are gonna need dental records to identify her.” My hands shook. “I’mma cut off her motherfuckin’ head and drink from her pretty little skull.”
“Twitch,” Ethan Black warned.
But I wasn’t having it. “I got shit to do.” I hung up then turned to Gabe Blanco. “Ya didn’t hear nothin’, you get me?”
Hated to admit it, but Blanco was a decent guy. He lifted his to-go cup into the air, and muttered, “What’s that? Sorry. I couldn’t hear you over drinking this delicious coffee.”
Yeah. Damned right he couldn’t. “Any news?”
“Got an anonymous tip last night to check a warehouse down south.” I straightened, but he went on. “Had a few of my guys check it out before dawn. And yes, she dumped her car there, but there was no sign of her or your son. I’m sorry.”
My brow knitted in thought. “Where’d you say this warehouse was again?”
On edge and ready to choke a bitch, we pulled up to the house. He met me out front while Gabe sat in the car.
Jerking his chin toward Gabe, Tama uttered, “That the cop?”
“Yeah, and he’s gonna stay right there.” I looked back at the car. “You upload the footage?”
“Amoho’s going through it right now.”
Without a word, he turned and walked back inside. I took it as an open invitation and followed, but when the door shut behind me, my eyes caught the little woman down the hall and my steps faltered.
Molly’s entire body stiffened at the sight of me. She held my gaze for a fleeting moment before she lowered her head and limped into a room, quietly closing the door behind her. And Tama stood there, observing, watching me watch her.
He motioned toward the opposite room, and I headed on in, keeping my eyes on the door Molly had disappeared behind.
She signed herself out of the hospital before any of us had the chance to check on her. Her sister, Lenka, arrived at the house not long after, taking Molly’s things and loading them into the back of her car. And that was it.
Molly was out.
Out of our home. Out of sight. Out of mind.
Just out.
I didn’t expect it of her, the weak-ass shit she was pulling. She wasn’t a bitch-ass punk.
“How’s she doing?” I asked quietly.
Tama blinked at me before frowning. He didn’t answer a long while. “How do you think she’s doing?” He held me with a stare. “Doesn’t care a lot, my Molly, but she loves your son. Swore to protect him till the death. And now—” He turned to face the closed door. “—she wishes she was dead.”
A rough sigh left me as I scratched at the stubble at my neck.
Guilt was a needy bitch.
Guilt demanded it be acknowledged. I knew this. I felt this. It was harsh and, yeah, at first I blamed Molly for what happened, but the truth was, Molly had nothing on Ling, and pitting the two against each other would have been a futile fight. Ling would always remain victor in that battle, no matter the circumstances.
Her guilt was on me, and I wore it like a noose around my neck, choking me.
“Got something,” the large Maori man at the computer uttered. He peered into the screen, squinting. “Yep. It’s her all right.”
I took the few steps over and looked down at the footage. Ling stepped out of her Mercedes, went to the passenger door, and opened it. It took a while for my son to step out, but when he did, a breath of relief filled me. I surveyed Ling and the way she held her hand out to my son.
It was odd, the way she was acting.
And when A.J. refused to take her hand, my stomach dropped.
Jesus, bud. Don’t give her an excuse to hurt you.
But Ling just got to her knees, spoke to him a second, and then wrapped her arms around my son, holding him tight as if she had the fuckin’ right.
The infuriation was hard to breathe through. My woman was at home a fuckin’ mess, and Ling was taking the affection meant for Lexi.
Fuckin’ bitch.