Rebirth (RAW Family 3)
Page 57
He looked at me a long moment before he took the couple steps over, and when he peered down at me as he did now, with a gaze full of worry and pity, I wanted to kill him then. When he spoke, I knew it would only be a matter of time before I did just that.
“Okay. You did what you had to do.” He looked around at the few men surrounding us then spoke low. “You’re hurt. You’re mad. I get it. I do.” He leant in, muttering, “But you’re embarrassing yourself, Ling. You need to leave.” His eyes narrowed heatedly. “Or I’ll make you.”
What did he just say?
The vein at the side of my neck throbbed in time with my increasing heartbeat, and reaching down, I picked up my weapons and nodded, feigning shame. “You’re right.”
His handsome face turned soft, and I knew I had him where I wanted him.
So beautiful.
I wanted to shatter those high cheekbones, slam my bat across his face to make sure his million-dollar smile never shone again, take my crowbar and level it down over his head, spilling out his brains for my pleasure alone.
Instead, I dropped the act, my face sobering, and when my slow smirk appeared, his trepidation returned tenfold.
I’m back, bitches.
“See, Az,” I explained on a sigh, “I wanted this to work out.” Reaching out, I smoothed down his lapel. “I really did.” My eyes met his. “But you fucked up, and now,” I enlightened, “you have to pay.”
More of his men arrived, watching the altercation. Amongst them was Aslan’s younger brother Enver, and the moment Aslan spotted him, his disquiet began to grow. I could’ve ousted us both then. I could have spilled the tea and let all his men know their king had declared his love to The Dragon Queen, but I didn’t.
No.
Aslan Sadik’s suffering would come nice and slow, and I would pluck the things he cared about most from him, one by one, so he could feel the pain of every loss before I struck again.
This boy was going to learn today that Ling Nguyen was not a love swept teen.
Ling Nguyen was a motherfucking queen, and if he didn’t let me use his face as a throne, I would impale myself on his broken, bloody spine until the raw pleasure made my body shake.
His lips thinned, and when he placed his hands on his hips, lowering his face, I heard the unease in his voice. “What do you want?”
Oh, baby. You have no idea.
The silence around us tense, I leant in, and hissed, “Everything.”
He straightened as I spun around and walked back outside, standing in front of the gorgeously sleek car Az treasured. Lifting the bat, I saw Aslan stand in the open doorway watching me, and I held it out in his direction a moment before I spoke.
“Batter up.”
As I brought the bat up, I grinned at the beautiful man, then winked before I threw it down, smashing one of the headlights. The glass shattered, showering out onto the street, and I moved to the other side, held the bat high, and brought it down, taking out the other headlight. Groaning in pleasure at the destruction I was causing, I bit my lip and my eyes flashed at the very same moment my breathing got heavy.
It was such an intense, heady feeling that I thought I might come, out here, on the street.
When Aslan’s younger brother rushed out the door, charging at me, I giggled like a schoolgirl and made a show of cupping my pussy, letting out a breathy moan. Az took chase, grabbing his brother, holding him back, and he let out a flurry of quick-shot Turkish in his ear. Enver struggled in his brother’s hold, and I smirked at his deadly scowl.
The car was a gift from brother to brother. It was part of the reason Aslan cherished it. Sure, the car was worth a cool hundred and fifty grand, and to these men, that was pocket change. But the real reason Aslan loved this car was because his brother had bought it for him, and he loved his brother.
Too bad Enver didn’t know we sullied the gift by screwing in it every chance we got.
When I took out the taillights, I sighed happily, and as I put the bat through the rear windshield, I gritted my teeth, the force of the blow reverberating through my arms.
Twisting back, I peered at Az over my shoulder and grinned. “Halftime.”
As I picked up the crowbar I’d left on the hood, Enver struggled in his brother’s hold, and then bellowed, “You’re dead, bitch!”
I thought about what he said, tilting my head to the side, my brow knitting. “You know what, little Az?” I blinked at the younger version of the beautiful man. “You’re so right.” My face turned dark. “I am dead.”
Dead.
Dead inside. Dead of mind. Withering soul. Failing heart. Fucking dead.
And I was okay with that.
It was better to face the harsh truth then believe in pretty lies.
My lip curled as I brought the crowbar down onto the car, over and over again, grunting through every blow, my palms burning hot and my face screwed up. And after my rage had mildly subsided, I threw the crowbar onto the dented hood of the car and turned back to the men, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.
But what Az did to me next secured his fate.
His body jerked, then shook, and when he opened his mouth and laughed out loud, my blood boiled.
The men surrounding him joined in, the loyal cronies they were, and my veins pulsed pure molten lava.
Their laughter mocked me. Mocked The Dragons. It mocked my capabilities as a woman and a leader. And I was not having it.
Reaching under my skirt, I pulled the pistol out of my garter, lifted it, and fired. The men jerked back in shock, and when I continued to empty the entire clip into the hood of the car, watching as the engine smoked, I took a step back, laying my hardened glare on the man himself. Shrugging lightly, I pursed my cherry-red lips, and uttered, “Oops.”
The blazing amber under the hood grew and I knew it was time to go.
I wasn’t sure what would happen next because I didn’t have a plan, but what I did know was this.
If Az wasn’t with me, he was against me.
And that meant war.
Chapter Thirty
Lexi
As the tall, handsome man walked the smaller version of himself across the street, I smiled outwardly while at the very same time my heart ached.
Watching him walk away was becoming harder to bear, and every time he did, he took a piece of me with him.
Luck had brought us together. It was neither good nor bad, just... luck. First as children, then as adults, and now, once again, as two people with nothing left to lose but each other. The stakes were high as I imagined this was our last chance to get it right.
They reached the door, and as my son turned to me, waving like a loon, I smiled for real then, waving back. Because he was precious. A gift. And Twitch had given him to me.
And when the man himself lifted a hand to me in acknowledgement, I found it hard to wave back, the main reason being I wanted him here, at home, where he belonged.
But he let me down so often before that it was hard to swallow my pride and invite him into my life again as a permanent fixture. Because I was still hurt. Because no matter that he was back, I couldn’t erase the last six years of emotional torment that he willingly put me through. Because, regar
dless of the fact that I loved him, I was still a woman scorned.
I was a fragile china doll, and Twitch didn’t just watch me fall. He threw me off of the safety of my mantle, knowing I would shatter. And now, the pieces left of me?
They were sharp.
A moment too late, I lifted my hand, returning his wave and pasting on a false smile that didn’t fit my face.
He, of course, noticed.
Pausing, I watched his smile wane as he contemplated what had happened between my front door and his to have caused me such distress, and without looking back, I walked into the house, closing the door behind me as gently as possible so as not to disturb the silence that greeted me as a friend.
A second later, my phone chimed.
Tony: I can bring him back.
My heart squeezed as I typed my short reply.
Me: Have fun x
I loved Twitch as much as a person was permitted to love another. Perhaps even more than was acceptable. Definitely more than was sensible.
My cell vibrated in my hand, and as though he’d heard my inner turmoil, I read his response with a tender heart.
Tony: I love you.
At that very moment, I felt silly about my hesitation.
Me: I love you too, honey.
I looked down at my response, and my fingers kept typing without permission. Stone-faced, I peered at the screen a long moment before hitting Send.
Me: But if you even contemplate leaving again, I will fucking kill you myself.
My heart thumped in my chest and I drew in a deep inhale, making a poor attempt to steady my heavy breathing. When my phone pinged a third time, I let out a shaky exhale as I read in silence.
Tony: Never, baby.
With those two words, I went from raging seas to tranquil waters, my unrest leaving me in a single shuddering breath.
Who was this man to have such power over me?
When my phone chimed again, I frowned down at the screen, and when I read the message, a shocked laugh left me.
Tony: Send me a tit pic.
I continued to laugh through my answer.
Me: No!
A second later,
Tony: That’s funny. You make it sound like it was up for negotiation.
My smiled turned timid. I found I kind of wanted to do it simply because it would please him.