We never looked at the paternity test. Turns out, we didn’t need to. One look at him, and you can tell he is a mini-me.
Same grin.
Same jaw.
Same mouth.
We even have the same walk.
He squeals again as I tickle him.
“If you two wake up the twins, I swear I will make you both stay awake with them tonight.”
I look up to see my wife leaning against the doorjamb, her arms folded under her voluptuous breasts, and there’s a beautiful smile on her face. The robe she is wearing is short and open, giving me a delicious view of her firm thighs and tiny panties.
Our twins are fifteen months old—twin girls with the same wild curls as their mama and her strong, free spirit.
Our once peaceful household is now a chaotic, noisy fest of children laughing or crying or running around like the happy hearts they are.
Lily walks over, and I pull her down onto the bed where CJ and I attack her with tickling fingers. She cries out with laughter and then proceeds to tickle us back, collapsing with laughter when we overpower her.
Her laugh—it makes me happy. And it’s never far from the smile on her beautiful face.
My queen is fierce, but she isn’t indestructible. What she endured at the hands of the Inferno was as painful as it was scarring and to help her heal the mental scars and the nightmares, she started therapy with Dr. Warner. When she used to joke she was a work in progress, I’d pull her into my arms and remind her how remarkable she really is.
For someone who couldn’t bear to be touched, now I can’t get enough of it. We never let a day go by without loving each other with our bodies, and if ever we argue, we never go to bed angry because lying with her in my arms is still the best part of my day.
Since the UFO Hotel, our life has been a wild ride of falling in love and expanding our family, and I’m so in love with all of them, I can’t even describe it.
After his release, Max was re-arrested for the bombing at the clubhouse and the murder of Terrence, the delivery driver. His trial was a media sensation thanks to his theatrics and his lust for drama. He reveled in the attention and relished in the subsequent fame it brought him, but he didn’t get to enjoy it long. He was taken out by a massive cardiac infarction three months into his thirty-five-year prison term.
Otto outlasted him by a year before he met his fate in the prison laundry. It seems he pissed off the wrong person and paid for it with his life.
But we don’t talk about Max or Otto because they are in the past, so we leave them there. Instead, we focus on our future because it sure looks damn bright.
Since the night Christy was killed, I started a quest to find peace.
And I’m happy to report I’ve finally found it.
It’s with my queen and my kids.
And it’s exactly where I want to be.