Rebirth (RAW Family 3)

Oh. I see. She remembered.

My jaw steeled.

I glanced at Julius, who now looked at me curiously, then licked my lips and spoke just as quietly, averting my eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

From my place in the center of the room, I saw Julius go from confused to complete awareness, and when he closed his eyes and sighed, I knew he was caught up. “It was you.” Yeah, it was. “You called me that night.” Guilty, brother.

“You killed him,” the little woman breathed out because the words were too hard to speak at volume.

I did. I killed Maxim Nikulin.

Ignoring Julius, I spoke to her, directly to her, because she needed to hear it. “Fuck, yeah, I did. Do it again in a heartbeat. Motherfucker was hard over your bleeding face, girl.” My lip curled. “He got off lightly. Mad I didn’t have the time to give him what he really deserved. Sad, because I would’ve enjoying delivering it.”

She swallowed hard, and then let out a hushed, “I knew it was you. I thought I was going crazy,” along with a soft, vindicated smile.

I shook my head, lips thin, rubbing the back of my neck and avoiding all eye contact.

She wasn’t crazy, but by all means, she should have been, going through what she did. I wouldn’t judge if she had been.

“I wanted to die.” The words were peaceful, still in the air.

I didn’t blame her. Part of me wanted to put her out of her misery that night. She looked too damaged to heal. “Yeah, I get that. Sorry I couldn’t let it happen.”

Ana’s soft smile transformed her entire face. She was a pretty one, beautiful actually. I mean, not Lexi beautiful, but she had something about her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Like, really. Don’t mention it. Ever again.

I felt uncomfortable with praise I didn’t earn, and taking out Maxim Nikulin was not something to be admired for. I should’ve done it years ago before he ever got to her. And now, she looked like she did, unable to speak without shaking like a damn leaf.

No. She should not be thanking me.

A moment of awkward silence passed before Julius stood, coming over to his wife, taking her hand before heading for the door. Before they left, I called out, “We ever gonna talk about this?”

Before he shut the door, he replied, “Yeah, when I don’t wanna kill you myself, asshole.”

I inwardly grinned. That was a good sign.

With a sigh, I turned to face Happy, who looked fucking dismal. “You get in touch with your Romeo and Juliet?”

He shook his head slowly and murmured, “Nah.”

“Stay here as long as you need to, bro.”

Happy’s face turned slowly and he scowled. “Damn right I’mma stay here as long as I need to. You’re the reason I’m in this shit, you erratic fuck.” He stood, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge. “I could be at home, having a nice quiet night fucking my girl or being sucked off by my guy, but no.” He popped a beer and took a pull. “Twitch decides it’s time, and, by God, it’s fucking time because Twitch says so. Fuck everyone else and whatever chaos it causes because you got the discretion of a lit stick of dynamite.”

My glower was strong. I held up my index finger. “You only get one pass and that was it. Remember that.”

As he walked into the spare bedroom, he flipped me the bird and that glower deepened.

Prick.

I didn’t know how late it was when I climbed in through the window, but I just needed to be near her.

Lexi knew I was there. I know this because when the bed depressed with my weight, her body braced and she stopped breathing a second. And even though her back was to me, I felt calmer being within arm’s reach of my woman, regardless of how she felt about me.

I could deal with a lot. I could deal with sadness. I could deal with anger. But this ignoring me business, I didn’t dig that.

The quietness was starting to bug me. I decided to make a statement, albeit a quiet one. “I told you I’d come back for you. Both of you.”

The silence was broken by the sudden hitching breath, and then the bed shook with the force of her soundless cries. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, and comfort her. I wanted to remind her of how well we fit, but now was not the time. When Lexi came to me, she would do it willingly. I would not take any more from this woman, not when she had already given me so much.

When she managed to regain control of herself, she wiped her nose with her sleeve before sniffling, “Get out.”

And I did.

Not because I wanted to, but because I owed her that much.

Chapter Twelve

Lexi

Why?

I didn’t understand.

Why, goddamn it?

As I showered, my sadness seemed to ebb, slipping down the drain by my feet with the sudsy water. My outer shell had cracked, broken, wide and gaping, and the inner part of me was no better. My soul shattered, my spirit was battered, and I hated him for that.

I washed my hair slowly, carefully, taking solace in the peace the warm water trickling over me brought. But it didn’t last long.

Oh my God.

My heart began to race.

How could he?

My chest ached painfully and my throat tightened with anger, fury, and resentment.

How could he?

I closed my eyes and lifted my face into the spray, trying in vain to steady my breathing. Jesus Christ. I could barely take in a full breath. I was fuming. My jaw tight, I switched off the water and stepped out, toweling off my body then my hair.

From my place in front of the bathroom mirror, my entire being stilled when I heard him. “Morning, bud. Ready for school?”

So domestic. So familiar. As if he belonged here.

My lip curled.

How dare he?

My teeth ground as I slipped into my panties and bra. Sliding on black sweats and a tight gray spaghetti strap tank, I ran my fingers through my wet hair and threw open the bathroom door, stepping out into the hall barefoot and catching Twitch helping A.J. put his backpack on.

When those soft brown eyes met mine, he watched me a second before slapping a light hand on A.J.’s shoulder, squeezing. “I think Mom’s feeling better, bud.”

No, she wasn’t, you fucking asshole.

Molly watched me carefully, and when I met her weary gaze and whispered a rough, “Get him out of here,” she took A.J.’s hand before looking between the two adults in the room, one of which simply stood there, his lips drawn into a thin line, while the other had murder in her eyes.

As my son passed me, I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him with everything I had in me before forcing a smile. “Have a good day, honey. I love you.”

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 t

he 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.