Rebirth (RAW Family 3)

I was so close to being resurrected. I could taste it, taste Lexi’s full, sweet lips as they worshipped me.

Thinking of the woman down the hall, alone in her bed, made my gut clench. How easy it would be to sneak into her bedroom and watch her a while.

Yeah. I was a sick fuck. And old habits died hard.

God. The memory of her....

My chest ached as my mind conjured up an image of her beaming up at me, smiling in that soft, warm way that was reserved for me and me alone.

I missed her.

It had been too long.

Finished with the book, I closed it then hugged my drowsy son close to me. “You tired, little man?” He nodded into my chest and I smiled. “Want me to stay until you’re asleep?”

Another nod, weaker this time, and a thought crossed me.

I would kill for this child.

Running a hand through his messy hair, I closed my eyes, breathing him in. He smelled of green apples, fabric softener, and something uniquely A.J. I pressed my lips to his head and held them there, missing him already.

One scrawny arm flopped down across my stomach and held me tight. His voice was whisper quiet. “You’re coming back, right?”

I frowned to myself. How could he ask me that?

He snuggled deeper into me, and my frown intensified. “Hey.” When he didn’t move, I nudged him and, slowly, he looked up at me, his eyes sad. “I’m coming back.” But his eyes remained sad, and I felt the familiar ache I always felt before I had to go. “I promise.”

A.J. looked up at me a long moment before he nodded. I held my little man tightly, wanting to reassure him but unsure about how. Then, I reached down and undid my watch, handing the heavy metal to him.

Grudgingly, he took it, and when he blinked up at me questioningly, I told him, “I’ll be back for that.” His eyes widened before he looked back down at the watch. God, this kid. The look of pride at being entrusted with something big like an expensive wristwatch was all I could handle. “You’ll keep it safe for me, yeah?”

His nod was solid, enthusiastic, and when I saw his slight smile, the aching feeling in my chest eased slightly.

I wasn’t sure about a lot in life, but I was sure about one thing. I loved my son. I loved him something fierce. And if somebody were ever stupid enough to fuck with him, I’d be there, Glock in hand.

Cock.

Click.

Boom.

Fuckin’ try me.

An hour later, the little guy draped over me was fast asleep and I needed to jet. Carefully as I could, I slid out from under him and readjusted the covers. I stood there a while, watching him, my gut coiling tightly.

I didn’t want to leave.

But I had to.

Before I left, I ran a light hand over my son’s hair, bent down, and kissed his brow. Whisper soft, I told his sleeping form, “Love you,” and I fucking meant it.

Those words, they didn’t alarm me as much as they used to. I had learned so much in my time away. How to appreciate life to its fullest was one of those things. I spared one last look at my child before slipping out into the night.

As I walked down the street, to my home, I wondered how long I could continue to hide in plain sight.

Fuck.

A smirk lined my lips as the answer presented itself.

Forever, if I needed to.

“How much longer?” I asked, very clearly pissed.

He sighed. “I don’t know, Twitch. These things take time.” I heard his chair squeak. “What, you think they’re just gonna go ahead and trust what I’ve got to say about you?” He scoffed. “Please, son. The U.S. has reluctantly recognized your life again, but Australia isn’t so willing.” He paused. “There’s an empty grave with your name on it, Twitch. You think that doesn’t raise questions? Think on this. Your grave disappears, your girl goes berserk and wants answers.” He let out a long exhale. “The longer this takes, the better for you. Trust me on that.”

Ethan Black, my unlikely associate, was right, and it ribbed me to no end. I was sore. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Look,” said the FBI’s main man, “everything will work out. You knew this process was going to be a lengthy one. You said you were in it for the long haul. What’s changed?”

Yes, I had. But seeing my son last night had me thinking. “Say I wanted to out myself now,” I queried. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Ethan laughed humorlessly. “Fucking hell.” When I didn’t utter a word, he went silent a short second, then explained, “You faked your death, Twitch, and although pseudocide is technically not a crime, you’re looking at so many other charges you’ll drown in ‘em. Conspiracy, felony tax evasion, forging a death certificate—want me to keep going? Your girl will go down for illegally collecting life insurance. Oh, and here’s your biggest one. Fraud.”

Right. Got it.

“That all?” I smirked when he let out a string of expletives.

“Keep your fucking head down and stay out of trouble,” Ethan groused, and from the sounds of it, he was as tired of this conversation as I was. “I got work to do.” And then he hung up on me.

Alone in my room, a block away from the house that held my son and my woman, I thought about my current position, about Ethan’s advice.

Keep your fucking head down and stay out of trouble.

My lips tilted up at the corners.

Nah.

That wasn’t my style.

Standing quickly, I dressed and grabbed my keys. Before I left the house, I pulled my hood up over my head and slid on my Ray Bans. Hiding my tattooed hands in my pockets, I walked outside, headed towards my unassuming Nissan Patrol, and stepped inside.

It was Monday, and I knew where she was. Same place she was every Monday.

My Lexi was a creature of habit.

I drove quickly and once I got there, I parked, looking out my tinted windows. And there she was.

My restless soul eased at the sight of her.

I was far enough not to be noticed but close enough to see the soft curve of her ass. And, fuck me, she looked beautiful.

The yoga instructor, a slender dude in his forties, stood in front of the six women in a pose, balancing on one leg while pressing the opposite foot into the prone knee, with his arms straight up over his head.

The women matched his pose, and when Lexi wobbled, he rushed her, placing his hands on her waist to steady her.

My eyes flashed and the anger began to build.

Look, I might’ve changed some in my absence, but I wasn’t a fucking saint. The sight of another man’s hands on my woman had my heart thumping. It made me want to smash heads.

Jaw tight, I continued to watch.

When he said something, smiling, and Lexi spoke back through a wide grin, my stomach clenched painfully. They spoke a few moments, and when I couldn’t take my eyes off those hands at her hips, my neck started to heat, my hands balled into fists, and I muttered under my breath, “Get your fuckin’ hands off her.”

As if he heard me, the asshole’s hands slid away from her but not before lingering a short moment. And, honestly, I couldn’t blame him. Lexi was a beautiful woman.

Only when he stepped away did my gut uncoil. I took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Anger issues would plague me the rest of my life, but I was working on them.

She was dressed in black workout tights and a loose white tee, and I watched the neckline of that oversized tee slide down past one shoulder, revealing the thick strap of her sports bra. She had on a pair of white sneakers and her thick, brown hair was up in a high ponytail.

Quite suddenly, memories assaulted me and I closed my eyes, wanting so desperately to dive into those recollections and live there a while.

Lexi in my bed.

Lexi on her knees.

Lexi sucking me so nicely as she looked up into my eyes.

A low groan escaped me, and my brows lowered as I gripped my hardening cock, s

queezing it tightly. “Shit.”

My head fell back and I closed my eyes tightly. My lips parted as I fought to control myself; a frustrated sigh blew out from between them.

Yeah.

It had been too long.