K. Alex Walker's Blog, page 7

I’d like to do a giveaway for the weeks leading up to Moonlight Retribution’s release via my newsletter. 

As a reader, what are some goodies you find that you like to get from authors?

“I’m sorry.” Pavel wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Forgive me?” His lips brushed her neck once, twice. “Please? I promise to be a good boy.”

A First Look at Book 2 of the International Mafia Series

Disclaimer: Unedited excerpt; subject to change.

Mounds of dirt rose from the soft earth. Underneath lay trenches that had been made by small hands—nine oblongs, some deeper than the others with caved and crumbling edges and corners. However, though the earth was soft, it had still taken those small hands three days to bury all eight bodies. Three days of digging, of walking back and forth to the cabin, of sights and smells Pavel’s memory would hold fast to as a guide for the day of his retribution. 

 

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest

Father will come to thee soon. 

Rest, rest on mother’s breast

Father will come to thee soon.

 

For hours, it was all he’d done, sang and cupped his hands and scooped. 

Over and over.

One by one. 

His mama, his papa, his Uncle Jacob, and his Aunt Lydia. 

His cousins, all girls and all older than him–the first time since he was five that all the cousins had been together.

Even Anna, who was tiny and pale and had to play inside while the rest of them screamed, bronzed, and chased butterflies. Anna, whose lungs never worked quite right—he’d heard his mama and Aunt Lydia say it was because she’d been born with them stuck together—and who couldn’t go out during the day because the sun would sink its teeth into her skin. 

The men who’d murdered his family had taken most of the food, but he’d never been much of an eater—which his mama had said would change as he got older. So, he’d picked at canned sausages, the four remaining loaves of bread, the cookies his papa had hidden in the very back of the tall cupboard, and he’d washed them all down with bitter wine.

 

Rest, rest on mother’s breast

Father will come to thee soon.

 

“Junior?”

Pavel blinked and was no longer in the woods. 

Around him, telephones rang, boots shuffled, and rods of metal hummed as they knocked together. On his shoulders sat a heavy coat, drooping them slightly, and the hard plastic back of a chair froze the skin beneath his thin cotton shirt. A woman, hand over her mouth and her face twisting as she cried, approached and knelt in front of him. She examined his face with gentle fingers, her bright brown eyes jeweled with tears. 

“Oh, Junior. It is you.”

She hugged him.

Over her shoulder, a man in a faded brown suit stood watching them with a look on his face that told a story of some unknown major triumph. That look was mirrored on faces all around the room, many of them in tears, hugging and holding. And it was then that Pavel decided he would never tell them he wasn’t the little boy they’d lost. 

Just a lost little boy.

It would be twenty years before he returned to the spot, the mounds long gone and the earth once again flat, covered in leaves and the icy feathers of beginning snow. No one would ever remember the family buried there nor those nine mounds—eight for the ones he’d loved and the little sister he’d never meet, and the empty one for the boy who’d both lived and died, that day, right along with them.

 

Rest, rest on mother’s breast

A reckoning will come for thee soon.

Who should be on the cover of Book 2? Naturally, I have a favorite , but I’ll be quiet.

Who should be on the cover of Book 2? Naturally, I have a favorite , but I’ll be quiet.

I did, however, include those names for a reason.

* * * * *

I’ll also be holding a cover model contest starting this Friday because 1) it’ll probably be fun; 2) I’m tangled in a mental relationship with Dom’s cover model and need help seeing other men; 3) I’m curious about how everyone else sees Pavel Volkov as I didn’t include anything too demographic about him in Prince of the Brotherhood. 

Thank you for all your love and support for Dom and Eija’s story. I’ve been getting tons of feedback about their chemistry, and I was hoping it would resonate with everyone. I love alphas with a soft spot for the ones they love—even if they didn’t know about them for half of the book—and strong women with a touch of quirk and vulnerability.

I dropped a few hints about Eija’s secret like breadcrumbs before it was actually revealed. 

Here’s one: 

Colin motioned to their equipment, the church. “Well, look at this way. This op, the work you put in this past year…E, you birthed a baby. Even Randy pointed out how hard you’ve worked this past year. And I know it’s in part because of what happened in Grenada, but cut yourself a little slack. Maybe it’s time mama got back out onto the scene.”

Can anybody name two more? I’ve got a signed copy to give away. 

Bonus Question (let me know if you don’t see a poll below)

Mature (18+) Audiences. Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios.

Mojay v das Biest

Ayesha, Tayler, Xara, and Mo entered the dark warehouse space, parting a crowd of hot, yelling, and gesturing bodies. In the middle of the room, underneath a strip of bright green lighting, sat a cage. Two men circled each other inside. From the way it felt like she was watching them fight on a high-definition TV, Ayesha figured it was where all the money was being spent for electricity. They might as well have lit the rest of the space with glitter.

“How’d you find this place again?” she asked Mo.

“Word of mouth,” Mo said, grinning. “Isn’t it awesome?”

Awesome wasn’t the word she would have chosen, but it was definitely interesting. And watching the two men grapple with each other made her heart pound. 

It hadn’t been as difficult as they’d anticipated sneaking out to the fight club that Mo had, somehow, found. Since the guys had already planned to stay cooped up in the Lair for most of the night, they’d drawn straws. Ari and Larke sat out this round. However, if Giorgio found out where they were, there might not be a next time for any of them.

“Is this turning anyone else on?” Xara asked, staring at the cage where one man had the other in a headlock. Ayesha started to shake her head until she noticed both men were in peak physical condition and glistening with sweat. Each move made their muscles bulge, and every grab came with a groan or a grunt.

“A little,” she confessed. 

They walked close enough to nearly be flicked by the fighters’ sweat through the fencing. There were seats but no one used them—the air was too charged to stay in one place. It was like sitting at a college football game.

“I signed up to fight tonight,” Mo announced.

Ayesha’s eyes bulged. “Giorgio’s going to kill you.”

Mo held up her right index finger. “If he finds out.”

“Mo, he’s been on edge. Ever since the guys went AWOL, he’s been obsessed with making sure you and Aleksi are all right.”

“I know, but I don’t know what else to do. Something’s been off with me lately. Something’s missing. I feel like this might be what I need to fill that void in my life. If it’s not, then it’s not, but in the meantime, can we keep this between us?”

They all agreed to do whatever they could to make sure their little excursion didn’t make it back to Giorgio. It wasn’t only for Mo; the assumption was that Giorgio couldn’t be “hurt,” but his hurt simply looked different from everyone else’s. 

A man bumped into Ayesha’s right side. When she looked up, he smiled down at her. Even in the dark, she could see he was handsome with a head of blond hair, thick brows, and dark-brown eyes. He didn’t have a fighter’s physique, but he was in good shape.

“Sorry about that.” His smile grew wider. “I’m Josh, by the way.” He was about to say more, but then he looked up and spotted Mo. “Hey, it’s you.”

Mo turned her head. “Yes, it’s me. And you are?”

“We met, remember?”

Mo squinted up at him until her eyes lit with recognition. “You were with Oskar. You’re originally from…Oregon, right?”

“Yes! Wow. Great memory.” 

He left Ayesha’s side and went to stand next to Mo, and an unexpected wave of panic curled up Ayesha’s spine. They could only assume Giorgio wasn’t there, and it had always been safer to err on the side of caution when it came to him. While Giorgio knew Mo didn’t want anyone else but him, it didn’t exactly make his response to men crowding her space a sane one.

Josh nudged Mo’s arm. “Is there a reason you remembered me so well?”

“I’m usually pretty good with names,” she said, eyes on the fight.

“And you’re Mo, right?” 

“Yessir.”

“Yeah, I remember. But I remember you because you’re cute.”

“I’m married.” Mo held up her left hand. “And my husband’s crazy.”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He didn’t leave or step away. 

The panic from before settled in the middle of Ayesha’s chest. The crowd noise elevated and one of the men, the smaller one of the two, was now standing over his opponent. The man on the floor stared up at the ceiling, hands at his sides. Each time he tried to turn over in an attempt to stand, he rolled right back onto his back. 

“Eesh, did you see where that Josh guy went?” Mo asked, looking around. He’d been standing right next to them. 

Based on the level of flirting he’d been putting down, it seemed strange for him to walk off without at least trying one last time. Then again, Mo had barely given him eye contact. Maybe he’d finally gotten the hint. 

Ayesha’s thoughts told her something different.

“Hey, Xara,” Tayler called, “you think Mike could take that dude?”

Xara flicked her wrist. “Pfft. Easily. My baby is amazing. I wish y’all had seen him and Dom. Don’t get me started. Gets me going just thinking about it.”

“Rice cakes get you going,” Ayesha teased.

The announcer called the fight. The smaller man thrust his arms in the air and roared, dried bits of blood on his mouth and cheek. He could barely blink, his left eye swollen to the size of a fist, and one of his fingers stuck out in a different direction than the others.

“You sure you want to do this tonight, Mo?” Ayesha asked. “Even though he won, he’s pretty messed up. Plus, Giorgio’s not about to have you come home with a busted eye and broken finger and not kill every able-bodied individual in Stockholm.”

When she didn’t respond, they looked to find her staring down at her phone.

“Guys, my fight just got canceled,” she said, barely louder than a mumble. “My opponent didn’t show up.”

Xara patted Mo’s stomach, which was exposed in a black cropped tank top she’d paired with a gray hoodie and black tights. “Maybe they saw you coming. Saw all these abs, girl.”

Mo laughed, excitement visibly dampened. “Maybe.”

While a small team cleared and cleaned the cage for the next fight, Light ‘Em Up by Fall Out Boy blasted from the speakers. The crowd hopped, yelled, and screamed the lyrics. Fists shot up in the air. Heads rocked and spun.

Fingers tickled Ayesha’s palm. 

“I didn’t follow you this time,” Adrían quickly reassured her. “But what are you doing here? This is the last place I expected you to be.”

She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not so sure myself.”

“How’d you find out about it?”

“Friend of a friend.” She took in his attire, a pair of shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt. “Are you fighting tonight?”

He placed his right hand over his heart. “Yes. I need to let off steam. The love of my life loves another.”

“Oh, stop.”

He stuck out an elbow, nudged her. “Will you stay for my fight? I’m number six.”

After what had happened between him and Joel the last time the three of them were within a stone’s throw of each other, Ayesha knew she should have immediately said she couldn’t. But it was because of that incident that she wanted to stay. Something inside her needed to know how good Adrían was. If he truly was as big of a threat as what had swirled around in her head, daily, after her talk with Joel.

“Sure, I can do that. And be careful up there.”

“Of course, querida.” He tickled her palm again and walked off.

“Oh…my…god.” Tayler gripped Ayesha’s wrist. “Eesh. Ayesha. Who is that up there?”

All three of them looked.

Xara’s jaw dropped. “Oh, my…lanta. Is that Gage?”

The blond hair, those green eyes which were more striking underneath the strip lights, and that tall, muscular physique could belong to no one else. 

Ayesha squinted at the ring. “If Gage is up there, does that mean—”

“I knew it.” Mo’s eyelids disappeared inside their sockets. “The Murderer of Moscow is here. The Slasher of St. Petersburg. The Killer of Krasnodar.”

“How many Russian cities have you aligned him with?” Ayesha asked.

Xara’s head whipped around, eyes searching in the dark. “Do you think they’re all here?” 

“So, uh, my fight’s back on,” Mo announced, looking down at her phone. “Tell Aleksi that his mother loved him, and she didn’t truly want to go out this way.”

All of them, except for Tayler, peered at the screen. Tayler had yet to look away from the cage.

#5 – MoJay v Das Biest

“Don’t worry,” Ayesha said, wrapping an arm around Mo’s waist, chest tight with laughter. “I will tell Aleksi that his mother was a warrior. We will make a statue in your honor. Your story will be told for miles and miles.”

Xara coughed through a giggle. “Years and years.”

Mo glared at them, eyes narrowed. “Are. You. Two. Laughing? I’m about to die tonight by the hands of the Assassin of Astrakhan, and you guys are just all ah-giggling.”

Fully laughing now, Ayesha shook her head. “Seriously, babe, how many of those do you have in your back pocket?”

“Only one more—Slayer of Samara.” Mo groaned, tossed her head back, and covered her face with both hands. “Damn it! I can’t even forfeit. I’m not certain what’ll happen up in the ring isn’t better than what’ll happen if I try to escape now.”

Tayler, as if suddenly aware she was a human being living on planet Earth, turned to the conversation. “Eesh, who was that guy with the accent?” 

All three pairs of eyes were suddenly on her.

Xara’s brows shot up. “Wait…was that fuck-buddy Adrían?”

“Fuck-buddy Adrían?” Both Mo and Tayler asked.

“Y’all know Mike’s a gossip,” Xara added. “But…was it?”

Ayesha’s head bobbed. “Yeah.”

“No offense, Eesh,” Mo began, “but what in life did you do to that man that made him stalk you to Sweden and then an underground fight club? I’ve been going to Xara for advice, but maybe I’ve been going to the wrong person.”

Ayesha’s face burned to the tips of her ears. Adrían had been there for all of a minute, in the middle of all this raucousness, so she didn’t know how Tayler had even heard his accent. 

“We had a,” she searched for a word, “fling back in the day. Way back in the day.”

“When Theo was a baby,” Xara chimed in. “Like I said, Mike’s a gossip. But do go on, Ayesha.”

Ayesha found that she was the one now covering her face. 

When she lowered her hands, she blew out a sigh. They weren’t going to give up. Her back grazed the corner they’d pushed her up against. 

“Adrían and I worked in the same building. We talked, had lunch, and I was vulnerable at the time, so we ended up sleeping together. The agreement was to keep things casual, but he told me he was falling in love with me and I,” it would be her first time admitting it out loud, “did have strong feelings for him. Not love. I didn’t feel for him what I felt for Curtis, and I definitely didn’t feel for him how I feel now about Joel. But…there was something."

She paused.

Xara picked up the story. “And that was the last time they saw each other until Joel and Eesh’s first date. He’s been popping up ever since, and they might have to medicate Joel to stop him from killing Adrían if he shows up one more time.”

Ayesha started to reply, but the announcer yelled that the fight was about to start. 

Gage walked to the edge of the cage, searched the crowd, kissed the air in their direction, and turned back to his opponent. Tayler caressed just below the hollow of her throat and slowly ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip.

“So Gage at least knows we’re here,” Xara said. “That was for you, right, Tay?”

“Hmm?” Tayler looked up. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe he has a side chick here or something.”

Mo looked at the list again, burst out laughing, and turned the phone toward Tayler. 

#2 – F. T. Full v Killer Z

Tayler rolled her eyes. “Is that supposed to be ‘faithful’? God, he’s such a clown. Ooh, let’s check the rest!”

#3 – Chandler v Mikki

#4 – Xaras v Skh-ro

#6 – Gano v K. Gristle

Xara clutched her chest. “Xaras? That’s gotta be Mike. Get it? Xaras? Xara’s? Like…he’s mine? Mike’s the sweetest. Isn’t my baby the sweetest, y’all?”

Mo, Tayler, and Ayesha took two steps away.

Xara sneered, grinning. “Haters.”

Mo tucked away her phone, and they gave all their attention to the fight. 

Gage stretched the muscles in his neck, moving it from side to side. His opponent, a man who looked like he had at least twenty pounds on Gage but was a head shorter, hopped on his toes. Both men moved constantly, warming up their muscles. 

The bell rang. 

The two men orbited each other, sizing the other up. It was a full thirty seconds before any of their body parts connected, and it was Killer Z’s gloved fist smashing into Gage’s left shoulder. The crowd reacted as though they were the ones who’d gotten the hit, and Ayesha caught Tayler cringing out of the corner of her eye.

Killer Z locked Gage against the cage and swung twice, but neither swing connected. Gage retaliated with a left hook to Killer Z’s jaw that swung his head around and sent the other man tumbling.

Tayler clapped. “Whoo! Fuck him up, baby!”

Mo stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

Killer Z fired two kicks at Gage, but Gage dodged them and ended up behind his opponent. He locked his arms around Killer Z’s middle and upended the shorter man with a suplex move that landed Killer Z on the back of his neck.

Tayler didn’t blink.

Ayesha found it hard to breathe.

The men continued to dance around each other, punching and kicking, slamming and grappling. At one point, Killer Z had Gage in a hold that Ayesha had no idea how he got himself out of. If she’d been wrapped up like that, regardless of everything she’d learned at Book Club, that would have been the end of her. Spines weren’t supposed to bend that way.

Killer Z threw a punch at Gage’s cheekbone. 

Gage dodged it, brought his left hand around, and seconds after his fist connected with the side of Killer Z’s face, Killer Z’s knees buckled and he dropped to the mat. 

Three people from Killer Z’s “entourage” had to help him stand, and Ayesha was pretty sure he had no idea they were even in Europe.

Ayesha’s mind went to Josiah’s bruise.

The announcer yelled that Gage won, and the crowd roared.

Gage left the cage and walked right over to where they stood. “How did Mo convince the three of you to get dragged down here?” he asked.

“How do you know about this place?” Mo countered. 

“A bloke named Oskar.” Gage wiped the sweat from his forehead with a small white towel. “We met him looking for rock-climbing gyms.”

“I met him looking for judo classes.”

Tayler stepped in front of Gage, asked him to bend, and pressed her thumb against a cut over his right eye. He hissed and pulled away as if he hadn’t taken body and headshots just a few minutes prior without complaint.

“That stings, love.”

“Do they have any medical supplies down here?” Tayler stretched onto her toes, searching. “Any water? I can at least flush that for now until we get home. It might need stitches.”

“It’s the first time I’ve taken any hits to the face,” he pointed out. “You could say I was otherwise distracted.”

“I didn’t ask you to look at me.”

“Who wouldn’t, sweetheart? You’re beautiful, and you have the ass of a goddess. I saw your ass before I saw you. It’s how I knew it was you as soon as we walked in.”

Sighing, she headed toward the edge of the crowd, dragging Gage along, his hand swallowing hers. “I’ll be back for Mike’s fight, guys,” she yelled back over her shoulder.

Ayesha rubbed Mo’s arm. “You still doing okay?” 

“No.” The corners of Mo’s mouth dropped into her chin. “I’m nervous.”

“Giorgio won’t actually hit you.”

“He could still take me down without landing a single blow. But, don’t mind me. I’m working out a strategy in my head.”

Aleksi was going to have one hell of an interesting upbringing with these two as parents. 

The next fight, they barely paid attention to. 

Tayler and Gage returned, the cut above Gage’s eye patched up. Xara was the only one not completely dwarfed by his size as he squirted water into his mouth from a blue bottle, Tayler’s fingers still wrapped around his.

“Where’s Mike?” Xara asked. 

Gage pointed with the bottle. “In the back. He likes to meditate before his fights, get in the zone. We actually started fighting down here a few months after we got back from Austria. Idle hands and all that.”

Mo held her phone out toward Gage. “Does Gio really expect me to fight him? And why do I think he’s responsible for my original opponent dropping out?”

“Pozza’s here? He didn’t come with us. If he’s here, he came alone.”

Ayesha thought back to Josh’s sudden disappearance just as arms wrapped around her from behind. 

“Having fun?”

She smiled. “Hey, Joel.”

He kissed her cheek, and she turned around only to be hit, head-on, by a wet, shirtless Joel Lattimore. Water trickled down his chest toward the waistband of his sweatpants, which were low enough to expose a peek of his shorts underneath. His hair was also damp, strands stuck to his forehead, and the fact that his hands were wrapped made her warm all over.

“You’re looking at me like you want to eat me alive,” he said, a wide grin spread on his face.

“Well, to be fair,” she traced the outline of the muscles in his stomach, “there are parts of you I’d like in my mouth.”

“Oh, yeah? And what parts are those?” 

She poked the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. He gripped her chin, bent, and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. The kiss was hard and sloppy. Hungry. He gripped her ass with one hand and pinched her left nipple through her shirt with the other. She wrapped her arms around him, the heels of her palms against his lower back and her fingertips in his waistband.

A thud behind them, along with the realization that they would end up having sex in the middle of all these people without a care in the world, pulled them apart. They turned around, and Joel dragged her back against him, his hand resting on her stomach.

In the cage, Mike was on the floor with his legs wrapped around Skh-ro’s neck. They hadn’t even seen his fight begin, and it wasn’t like she and Joel had been distracted for very long, but it looked near to ending…until Mike released the hold. 

Skh-ro staggered to his feet. 

Mike then spun a roundhouse kick that collided with the side of Skh-ro’s face, and blood-tinged spittle flew through the air. 

Skh-ro gasped, groaned, and fell to his knees, but Mike helped him back up. They embraced, and Skh-ro nodded incessantly at whatever Mike said in his ear. 

After the fight was called, Mike did a quick back handspring, bowed, and left the cage. When he spotted their group, he jogged over, looped his arms around Xara’s thighs, and raised her in the air.

Xara squealed. 

“Mike! You were so good.”

“Really?” His eyes opened wide. “I thought you’d say I was too cocky or something.”

“But I love cocky Mike.” 

He slid her down his body a couple of inches.

“You two stay your asses right here where I can see you,” Gage warned. “I drove, and there will be no fucking in my vehicle.”

Mike let her back down to her feet. “Fine, Dad.”

The crowd went pin-drop silent. Ayesha blew air between her lips to see if it turned white. Giorgio had entered the cage, and not a single drop of warm blood remained in the entire underground arena.

* * *

Mo plastered herself to one side of the cage. Giorgio watched her from the other, sitting cross-legged on the mat. She’d been all for it when Oskar had told her that there were no height, gender, or weight restrictions when signing up for the fights. It had sounded like the perfect scenario to test just how far she’d come. There was no more assassin’s circuit, but she would at least be able to feel the impact of her fist against someone’s stomach, jaw, or collarbone. Sudden death by husband wasn’t what she’d had in mind.

Giorgio wore his hair a little longer these days, and the dark, damp tresses cascaded in easy waves around the sharp lines of his face. His hair should have softened his features but, for the first time since they met, she was afraid of him. In here, she was his opponent, not his wife.

The announcer shuffled to the middle of the cage, knees knocking like he was trying to pick up a family of king cobras from behind with a single hand. When Giorgio stood, the announcer squirmed and stepped back, behind Mo, head tucked just below hers. 

Giorgio flicked a glance his way.

“S-sorry, I forgot,” the announcer squeaked, releasing her. He then did his spiel and scurried from the cage.

Mo adjusted her top and tights. She should have done cornrows. A ponytail he could grab, and Giorgio was a ponytail grabber. Only, in this instance, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t come right after.

The bell rang. 

Neither one of them moved. 

Not even the crowd appeared to be breathing, and it made her wonder what Giorgio had done in front of these people.

“Bez.” He tossed his hair back out of his eyes. “Come.”

“No.”

“Why.”

“I’m scared.”

They crossed the mat toward each other. 

She threw a kick. He pushed her leg aside, picked her up, and dropped her onto her back. Mo, grimacing through the sting, hopped right back up.

He went to grab her for another takedown, but at the last moment, she spun around his body. After lodging her knee against his spine, she hooked her elbow around his neck from behind. But he merely reached back and flipped her over his head, dropping her onto her back, again, on the mat. 

Mo leaped back onto her feet.

“I watch you, my Bez,” he said.

She threw out a punch that he slapped away. He did the same with her second attempt. She rushed him, wrapped him up around the middle, and when she felt his muscles flex to grab her, she swept his leg and they both dropped to the mat this time, her on top of him. Somewhere in the middle of their descent, he’d grabbed her forearms and moved them to his chest so that his weight didn’t fall on her hands or wrists.

A gasp cut through the silent room.

Anyone else, at this point, she would have hit. Elbowed. Struck in some way. It was Gio, so she rolled away and stumbled to her feet. It felt like they were fighting alone with all the cheering and jeering gone. The way Giorgio’s gaze pierced hers, it felt that way.

He sat with his forearms on bent knees. “Do you hate me, my Bez?”

“Never, Gio.”

“You leave when I am sleeping. You,” he gestured to her body, “have bruise when you come back to me and Aleksi.”

Was this why he’d done this? Was this the only way he could get her to talk to him? 

He stood.

They circled each other.

She was there for him whenever he needed her and sometimes before he realized he did, but she hadn’t allowed him to do that for her, for a while. When it came to Aleksi and the physical aspects of their relationship, things were wonderful. Yet, it had been a while since they’d been Giorgio and Mo instead of Mm-ma and Dada-Papa.

She rushed him.

He shifted, looped one arm around her waist from behind, and she braced, but the impact still stung every nerve cell in her body the minute her spine met the floor. 

“Shit, Gio!”

“Does this hurt, my Bez? Do you feel pain, my Bez?”

He stepped back to give her space to get up, and then he raised his hands, going into fighter stance.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Mo mumbled, shaking out her arms and rolling her shoulders.

He came at her, swinging. She narrowly dodged each blow, bobbing and slapping them away, and she wanted Mike’s opponent instead. Him, she could have handled, easily. These guys of theirs? These men? There was something wrong with them, and her husband was the most unique of them all.

She fired a front roundhouse kick.

He used both hands to stop it, forcing her leg back, and she came close to losing her footing for what felt like the hundredth time since the fight began. According to the timer, five minutes hadn’t even passed yet when the fight had already felt longer than her entire pregnancy.

Giorgio came at her again, and she went to strike, but he stepped around her. She prepared for him to toss her down, but he wrapped his elbow around her neck and one of his legs around hers, and fell backward, locking her in a submission hold. 

“I’m sorry, Gio,” she said, straining. “I want to fight again.”

He tightened the hold. “No.”

“You don’t get to,” she took a second to breathe, the hold stealing her oxygen, “tell me no.”

“You can tell me yes, so I can tell you no.”

Tears sprung in her eyes. “This…hold is…intense.”

“Give up.” Somehow, he took the hold even tighter. “Bez, you could not lift Aleksi.”

Which hadn’t been from Book Club, but she had snuck off to an elite boxing gym where she’d had her ass handed to her. The minute she’d stepped through the front door back at home, Aleksi had toddled over to her with his arms raised. She’d been so sore, she hadn’t been able to pick him up until the next day and couldn’t carry him for over a week.

“What if I only fight once in a while?”

He didn’t answer.

“Two fights a year,” she bargained. “And you can train me, directly, for them.”

Stars moved like snowflakes in her line of vision, so she screamed and slapped the mat. He released her, and she turned to the side and coughed until her chest rattled. 

When she could finally breathe, she looked up to find Giorgio’s hand extended. She grabbed it, and he pulled her up against him, then kissed her forehead. To her surprise, the crowd cheered and whistled.

“Why are they cheering?” she asked. 

“You are first to put me on floor, Bez.”

He released her without another word and, as he left the cage, in all the time they’d been together, it was the first time she could say she’d ever, truly, hurt him.

* * *

Joel gave Ayesha a quick kiss against the side of her neck and started off, but she grabbed his hand. “You haven’t fought yet?” she asked.

“I’m flattered you’d think I’d leave the cage this unscathed,” he motioned to his body, “but no. I’m next.”

“Number six?”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes until an image of the matchup appeared. “You’re K. Grizzle?”

Of course.

If she hadn’t been so worried, she would have laughed. K. Grizzle was short for King Grizzle, a character from one of the Trolls movies. The number of times they’d watched the films, to the point where Josiah had asked to try to hypnotize Theo out of liking them, it should have clicked right away. Leave it to Joel to be cute and nerve-wracking at the same time.

“Do you know who you’re fighting?” she asked. “At least, their name?”

He glanced at the cage. “No, I never look, but I really do have to go. I’ll see you in a minute. Love you.”

His hand slipped from hers.

“Love you too,” she answered, but he was already too far away to hear.

Mike draped an arm around her shoulders. “I spy, with my little eye, someone nervous.”

Amusement and worry blended together, resulting in the puffy laugh that left her throat. “We spend too much time around children.”

“I don’t disagree. But Eesh…even though Joel might be more on the jokester, sarcastic side, he’s a hell of a good fighter.”

“I…” She squeezed her forehead. “Okay.”

Adrían stepped inside the cage and went to one corner, hopping on the balls of his feet and shaking out his arms. His stats were announced in English, Swedish, and Spanish. For all intents and purposes, the matches were close to the real thing. At least, as far as she knew. She didn’t watch MMA fights regularly, and this was underground. Probably illegal. From what she had watched, she’d never seen certain moves used that she’d spotted in the fights that night.

When Joel stepped inside, goosebumps covered her skin when she heard cheers. Whistles. And they weren’t only coming from their group.

Aww, my baby has fans.

Had it not been so dark, she would have scoped out the room to see how many of those fans looked thirsty enough to where she believed they might approach him. Everything—from the blue in his eyes to the half-moon on his pinky finger—was hers. 

“Hold up.” Xara held up a finger. “That’s fuck-buddy up there right now. With Joel.”

Ayesha groaned. “Xara…”

Mike cocked his head to the side. “Shit. That is.”

Adrían and Joel realized at the same moment Xara did, and the air between them changed. The air in the entire warehouse space changed. Adrían looked at Joel like he’d been awaiting this moment for ages, and a look crossed Joel’s face Ayesha had only ever seen once before—in front of Theo and Thandie’s school.

“Hey, Mike?” she called. “Joel said Adrían might be like you guys?”

“Not exactly like us,” Mike snorted, “but we believe his unit came from the same headquarters. The Lavigne asswipe is part of his team, but they don’t operate like we do. The way Joel tells it, Gano wants Lavigne dead almost as badly as he does.”

“And Gano’s short for Delgano, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mike nodded. “He was never Queirós, by the way.”

She’d figured as much by now.

If Mike and Gage weren’t worried, that meant she had no reason to be. And she wasn’t worried that Adrían could seriously injure Joel. She’d seen Joel hurt, truly hurt, only once after a mission where he’d taken a piece of metal to the leg. He’d had to use crutches for weeks and, considering she’d still been in denial about her feelings for him, she’d convinced herself that she flew to D.C. to help take care of him because the boys wanted a summer away from home. They might have stayed with Julien and Ari, but they’d spent most of their time at Joel’s condo.

Joel and Adrían’s fight started just like the others, both men in planetary orbit. Their jabs and kicks began quicker than the other matches, with Adrían extending his long, muscular leg toward Joel’s midsection and Joel slapping it out of the way.

“You still underestimating your guy, Eesh?” Mike asked.

“I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Don’t worry too much, all right? Plus, the fact that it’s your boyfriend up there he’s fighting will only help Joel beat his ass a little quicker.”

She pinched him. “Call him my boyfriend one more time.”

“Ouch. Xar, make her stop.”

“Don’t look at me,” Xara said, glancing at them. “You deserved that one.”

Adrían rushed Joel, toppled him to the floor on his back, and landed a couple of shots against Joel’s shoulder and neck. Joel maneuvered out of the hold and onto his feet, and he didn’t look the least bit out of breath. Yet, the longer the match went on, the less Ayesha breathed. Next to her, Mike and Gage grinned.

There were a few times where she couldn’t tell who hit who, or who had the upper hand in a hold. 

Adrían trapped Joel against the cage wall and, as he went to shove his knee into Joel’s middle, Joel pushed him off. Adrían then came back, virtually flying through the air, with his left knee.

Mike leaned near Ayesha’s ear. “Problem with that move is, it puts Gano in grappling range. And you don’t want to be in grappling range with Joel.”

Joel evaded the knee, hooked Adrían’s leg, and took him to the mat. He kept the leg locked up, and she could see Adrían trying to pull out of the hold, but it was too tight. His skin complexion, very quickly, went from olive to red all over.

“It’s done,” Mike said.

Ayesha didn’t look away from the fight. “How do you know?”

Just when she thought Adrían’s head would pop from his neck, he tapped.

Joel released.

Adrían’s head fell back to the mat, his chest heaving.

There was no way in hell she was going to encourage Josiah to do this.

Without waiting for a bell, an alarm, a chime…nothing, Joel tugged off his gloves, tossed them at Adrían’s head, and left the octagon without looking back. It didn’t help that TKO Remix started playing. Stockholm wasn’t what she’d been expecting, but she was here for it.

“And that’s the match, ladies and gentlemen,” Mike said. “We out.”

Adrían turned his head and looked in their direction, dazed. Joel walked over and scooped her up without breaking his stride, following the others to the exit. 

“Don’t let me find out you were worried about me going up against your little boyfriend,” he warned.

“Umm—”

“Don’t let it happen again.”

She grinned. “Yes, Mr. Lattimore. Anything you want, Mr. Lattimore.”

* * *

Mo found Giorgio at the hangar wiping down his Bugatti Type 41 Royale Kellner coupe. She knew the name of the car because he’d reiterated, over and over again, that it was important to know he owned the seventh car of which only six were known to have been made.  

Xara, Tayler, and Ayesha had gone home with the guys to give her a chance to follow Giorgio to one of the few places where he went to clear his head.

“Hey, boo,” she called. He didn’t look up, so she tried again. “So, the Bugatti Type 41, also known at the Bugatti Royale, is not only one of the biggest cars in the world, it uses a twelve-liter straight engine…whatever that means.”

Of the many cars they’d made love inside and on top of, several of them were completely off-limits, and that was saying a lot when it came to Giorgio’s appetite. This was one of them.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment?” she asked.

His shoulders dropped. “Nyet.”

“So—”

“Talk, Bez.” He raised his head. “Tell me.”

She folded her arms and leaned against the nearest car approved for leaning against, a red Corvette Stingray convertible. “I think…I think I had the baby blues right after Aleksi, and I’m not entirely certain they’re gone.”

His brows wrinkled. “Baby…blues?”

“Postpartum depression.”

“Depression. Like…sick?”

She nodded. “Mm-hmm. I knew something was off right after I had him, but I just figured that once time passed and my hormones resettled, it would go away.”

“And now?”

“Gio, I don’t know. I’m not unhappy, not really. It’s not you or Aleksi, I swear, but something’s…off?”

He dropped the microfiber towel, strolled over, and pulled her into his embrace. “Prosti, Bez.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”

“I did not know. This is doing something.”

“You only know what I show you.” She locked her arms around him, her cheek against his chest. “I wanted to fight because I feel really hollow and, the way I saw it, I didn’t feel hollow back when I was working the circuit. But I couldn’t even…I couldn’t even pick up my baby.”

“Bez—”

“It’s not you, Gio, and I’m sorry that I put up walls and blocked you out to the point that you had to fight me to get me to talk to you.”

“Bez, anything you want, you will have it,” he promised. “But remember, you do not have to be strong by yourself. You have family. You have strong, handsome husband who can carry more than you think. My shoulders,” he moved them up and down, “they are light. There are so many things you can give me, Bez. I will hold them all, if this is what you need.”

A laugh bubbled through her tears. “Do you forgive me?” she asked.

“Always.”

She smiled. “I would like to see a doctor before I bring it up with the rest of the fam. Will you come with me?”

“Already, I am there.”

Her smile morphed into a laugh. “You’re so sweet.”

“You are surprised?”

“No. I love you, Giorgio.”

“You will not love me if you look over there.” When she tried to turn, he held her in place. “Bez…you remember fish?”

She wriggled out of his hold and speed-walked toward the office, seeing for the first time the large aquarium she didn’t know how she’d failed to spot when first walking up.

“Do you, at least, only feed them fish food?” she asked.

He hugged her from behind. “I do not understand. What else can I feed them?”

“What I mean is, they don’t have human fingers or ears in their stomachs, right?” When he didn’t respond, she turned around. “Right?”

“Finger?”

“Forget I said anything.”

“Ear?” He looked at the tank. “What else, Bez?”

Groaning, she faced him and brought his mouth down to hers at the same time she reached into her jacket pocket. When they separated, he studied the device she’d placed in his palm.

“It’s a remote control,” she explained.

“For toy?”

“In a way.” She coaxed his other hand into her waistband. “It’s not exactly a toy for our little one. It’s more a toy for me. For us. That remote controls a—hold on, Gio.”

He switched the dial back to off. 

“It controls a,” he flipped it back on, and she jerked, “tiny bullet vibrator…inside the…panties.”

After the explanation, she expected him to turn it off, but he simply watched her, eyelids hooded and irises darker than the sky outside, until she could do nothing but give in to the mercy of orgasm.

Spent, she pressed her forehead against his chest. “I…put them on…to apologize…for earlier.” 

“This will need what kind of battery?”

“Why?”

“I will buy one-hundred.”

She started to laugh, but he turned the vibrator on again, this time switching it on and off until she came with her arms wrapped tightly around his midsection.

“I can fuck you with this, my love?” he asked.

“It might move around too much,” she said, yawning and cozy enough to drift right off to sleep. “Why do you sound so excited, though?”

Even if the answer had been a solid no, it wouldn’t have made a difference as he spun her around and pressed her, face first, against the wall.

He tugged her tights down and made a loop in the string of her panties, hooking the skinny band around his fingers. And it didn’t move, not even an inch as he lost himself inside her, one hand at her hip keeping the panties in place while the other tortured her with varying degrees of intensity between her legs. This had been her idea—she had to remind herself of that with each dizzying climax.

She should have known better than to listen to freaky ass Xara. Then again, Giorgio forgave her easier than she’d expected, so she could have kept the underwear a secret. But, as she crumbled underneath the weight of orgasm number four, she decided to hide the panties until the winter solstice. The next blood moon. Hell, the next passing of Halley’s comet. If she didn’t, she’d have no throat muscles by the end of the year.

She let the third climax wash over her, and after several more deep strokes, Giorgio groaned and released inside her, massaging her spine and hips. 

“Gio, I think we need a new safe word,” she pointed out. “None of the last seven seem to be working.”

“What is safe word?” he asked.

“The word we agreed to use for when I need a minute return to this planet?”

“This is what ‘safe word’ mean?”

“What did you think it meant?”

“Hard. Deep.”

“How, Giorgio? How would pineapples, Stockholm, or Ferrari mean any of those things?”

He placed the controller for the vibrator between his teeth, picked her up, and propped her against one of the hangar walls where he entered her again, pace slow and steady when he knew she wanted fast. Slow was teasing. Torture.

The vibrator wasn’t even on, but as he urged her mouth down to his and slipped the controller between her lips, she cried out, back arching, pulsing from the inside out. It was a new turn-on, him casually putting things in her mouth while he was inside her. Maybe she wouldn’t hide the panties after all.

She removed the controller from her mouth. Using the wall for leverage, he rocked into her until he came a second time. While his chest heaved, he stared at her, slowly blinking, all dark and dangerous and exceptional. 

“Don’t give me those eyes,” she warned.

Those eyes, that face, or that hair. Giorgio as her son’s father instead of being just her Gio was a completely different vibe. Everything she’d wanted and wished for, he’d given her, from this life with him to their family. There was no word for that. Love tried and failed each time.

“I have named fish,” he said, breathing hard. “Just one. Guess.”

“I feel like I’m walking into a tra—”

“It is Mo. You want to know reason I pick this name?”

“N—”

“Because he is gold.”

“Oh, that’s not so—”

“And he will bite everything.”

She sighed. “Walked right into that one.”

“We will be okay?” he asked. “Me and you and Aleksi?”

“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “We will be wonderful.”

“I am here, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, my Bez. Always.”

* * *

“Fuck, yeah.” Hyeok’s eyes darted around the room, gauze taped to the wound in his shoulder and his torso bare.

Trevor echoed Hyeok’s agreement, adding, “I didn’t want to go up against those sons of bitches, anyway. What’d they say they wanted when you met with them at the fight?”

Adrían narrowed his eyes at both men. “Lavigne and Spettro.”

Hyeok flicked his wrist. “Take them. Tell them they can do what the fuck ever they want to them.”

Adrían’s brow shot up. “That was surprisingly easy.”

“Alpha’s proposition is that our teams, together, go after Central,” Trevor clarified. “We’re essentially three men down because Lavigne is a ticking time bomb, and Spettro is an arrogant piece of shit who can’t shoot a gun without fracturing a fucking bone. I’d rather do that shit than go up against them as, essentially, a team of three.”

Adrían knew the answer, but he asked anyhow. “So, what about what happened to Wesley?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Trevor pointed to his mouth. “I have a wife. I’m trying to be with my wife, have a couple kids. We have a better chance at taking down Central with Alpha than taking down Alpha. When and where do they want Spettro and Lavigne because I’ll gift-wrap the blokes for them if need be, birthday paper and everything. Plus, we couldn’t stop Lavigne that day, which is why their teammate is dead. What happened with Wesley…we deserve that shit.”

Only two episodes left 12: One Last Thing, Before I Go…Tomorrow

Josiah might not call her Mama forever, and it wouldn’t give her chills every single time, but she knew it would give her chills, at some point, for the rest of her life.

“Yes, Josiah?”

“We should do this more often, right? And not only take trips but hang out just like this, together.”

“I agree.”

He sighed. “I just wish Theo was awake, you know? I mean, he’s really tired, so I don’t want to wake him up, but it would be nice if he could be awake for it.”

“Awake for what?”

“Joel’s question.”

Release Date Schedule12: One Last Thing, Before I Go – 04/2513: From Central to the End – 04/30

Mature (18+) Audiences. Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios.

Note: Flashbacks are in purple and italics.

The End of an Era

“Ayesha…” Joel reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. “Eesh, stop for a second.”

She didn’t reply, didn’t look at him as she stuck her legs into a pair of jeans and tugged a long-sleeved T-shirt over her head. It was his shirt, so it swallowed her, but she didn’t move to change. 

“Ayesha, don’t leave.”

Curtis smiled at Ayesha through her laptop camera. “Look at all those teeth. You must miss me.”

She bolted from the room toward the stairs.

“Of course, I miss you,” she said. “I’m married to the sexiest man on the planet.”

She tripped on the stairs, blinded by tears, saved only by her fingers catching on the banister at the last minute.

“How do you manage without me?” he asked. “And I mean…seriously.”

Joel’s footsteps thundered behind her in the upstairs hallway.

“I’ve been gone a lot more than usual this year, and it’s just you and Jojo down there. I know it’s hard, but how hard is it? Tell me, baby.”

She shrugged and changed positions on the bed, lying on her belly. “I mean, it’s not necessarily easy, but Josiah’s the most wonderful son a mother could ask for. The worst part, honestly, is not having you here. I miss being in your arms, Curtis.”

A soft smile pulled at his mouth, and she got the distinct feeling something was bothering him, but he’d never tell. That was Curtis…Mr. Fix It. He never wanted her to worry about anything he had the power to resolve, so if it was something he didn’t think was worth sharing, she’d trust him.

“Thinking about you down there alone with him, without me,” he sighed, “I don’t sleep sometimes. I mean, neither one of us had a solid family foundation at the start of our lives, so when I started thinking about my future and a wife and children, I always had that worry, you know? Will she be good to them?”

“Eesh!” Joel grabbed her just before she reached the front door, his chest bare and the waistband of his boxer briefs flat against his abdomen. “Wait. Stop.”

A trace of emotion deepened Curtis’ voice. “But I know, as long as you’re his mother, Josiah will be the happiest, smartest, and most wonderful kid in the world.”

She dabbed her fingertips at the corner of her left eye. “What if we end up with another one?”

“Another one? I mean, I did put in some work when I was down there last.” He searched her face as if, on it, he’d be able to read the secret she was holding onto until she was in those arms again. 

She could already hear the happiness that would enter his voice once she told him. Plus, when he came home, the guys would have one of their longest breaks ever. He’d be there for the entire pregnancy and their future little one’s birth. 

It was perfect timing.

“Eesh, if we have a million kids, I trust that you, as my wife, will be the best mother they could ever hope for.”

“A million?” She giggled. “By the hundredth, if I still have a vagina, science will probably want to study me.”

He’d had so much faith in her. He’d believed that as long as she was their children’s mother, their kids would be happy. Smart. Wonderful. But he never said safe. Was it because he knew how much she’d screw it up?

“You asked me not to run away,” Joel said, his grip firm. “That, if there’s something we need to talk about, we talk about it.”

“I might yell at you.”

Scream at him. Lash out because she was in pain, and a big part of her blamed him for it. 

“So what if you yell at me?” He looked down at where his hand curled around her upper arm. “Eesh, you’re shaking.”

Tears dripped from her chin onto the wooden floors. “Joel, I know you. You didn’t tell me about ‘Mr. Veeny’ for a reason. I can’t imagine how much worse this gets, but I know it does.”

He tried to pull her into his chest, but she backed away, tearing her arm from his grasp.

“Don’t comfort me! Just tell me what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ayesha.”

What had made her think she could manage being a widow and single mother at the age of twenty-five? What had made her think that she would, all of a sudden, know what she was doing when Theo came along? She’d barely known what she was doing with Josiah. In the beginning, she’d even tried to refuse the money the guys had sent her directly after first refusing to access the trust fund Curtis had set up. With a little boy and another one in her belly!

“Joel,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, a warning, “tell me.”

Joel released a long, grating, and obviously reluctant sigh. “Theo told me about Mr. Veeny that night he and I had the sleepover. Adrían was at the museum when we were there, and he gave me info that suggests Mr. Veeny is actually a man who goes by the name of Siriano Lavigne.” 

“And why would Adrían do that?”

“You can answer that yourself.”

“Is that why you were upset that day? Because of your run-in with Adrían?”

“Yes,” he confessed. “He knew about the ‘veeny’ incident, so I thought you’d been talking to him and lying about it.”

She stared at him, nostrils flaring slightly. “You don’t trust me.”

“Trusting you isn’t the point.”

“Don’t do that.” She squeezed her eyelids together and circled her hand in the air. “Answer me directly. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Ayesha. I trust you. But that doesn’t mean shit like that doesn’t hurt or fuck with my head.” His eyes darted over her face, irises a shocking blue and his brows lowered. “You just realized that you care about the man, but I saw it all over your face when you ran into him at the restaurant. So, I thought you didn’t want to tell me you were talking to him because your feelings were coming back or deeper than would make me comfortable.”

This was honest Joel, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about honest Joel. He was hard to argue with. It wasn’t like she could simply tell him his feelings weren’t valid, and she did have stronger feelings for Adrían than even she’d realized. 

“Is Adrían part of this Mr. Veeny thing?” 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so. Lavigne is probably his comrade, but he appears to,” Joel stretched the muscles in his neck, scratched at his shoulder nearly hard enough to tear skin, “have more loyalty to you than that piece of shit.”

“There’s more, isn’t there? You’re getting angrier. What else, Joel? How did Mr. Veeny terrorize my Theo? Was he in Maui? At his school? Joel…” She sucked in a painful breath and let it out so quickly, it made her lightheaded. “Was he in my house?”

Joel nodded.

Their breakfast, from all those hours ago, sloshed in her stomach. 

“Was he in the house even we were there? Like…when we were asleep?”

He tried to pull her into him again. 

She continued to resist, but the next thing she knew, she was pressed against his bare chest, and his arms were around her. It felt so good to be wrapped up by him, it made her even sicker to her stomach. Why should she receive comfort when she didn’t deserve it? Why should he hold her close just because, in the next couple of minutes, she was going to lose it?

“I’ll let go if you tell me to.”

She didn’t tell him to.

He continued. “Lavigne climbed in through a window. More specifically, he climbed in through Theo’s window. But Theo swears Lavigne didn’t hurt him, and I believe him.”

She gripped Joel tight, needing the pressure of his chest to dull the ache in hers. “Joel, his behavior matches that of a child who’s been abused.”

“Or heavily traumatized. From what Giorgio and Dez told me, this Lavigne isn’t a small guy. And…he threatened Theo…with a gun.”

The final strand of her sanity frayed, the tip splitting and webbing. “A gun?” She shook her head, tears and snot smearing his chest. “I’m a fucking joke.”

“Ayesha—”

“What kind of mother…” Her head shook again. “No kind of mother. How could I do this? My baby needed me. He’s just a baby, Joel.”

Joel’s hand skimmed the length of her spine. “You know how my shit is that I’m scared to fuck things up for us? Your thing is, you seem to believe you’re a terrible mother. Why?”

“Because…with Theo, I stressed out so much while I was pregnant with him, what if my stressing is what makes life so challenging for him now? He doesn’t,” her voice broke, “have friends. My baby doesn’t have friends, and that kills me inside because I know I’m responsible for that. And what if Josiah’s the way he is because he had Curtis in his life? I was barely twenty when he was born, Joel.”

Joel’s voice was harsh but nonthreatening. “Josiah, first of all, is my ace. He’s the coolest damn kid ever, and you have a hand in that. I see a lot of you in him. As for Theo, baby, he just hasn’t found his tribe yet. So what if he’s a hare in a tortoise world? One of the best fucking things to ever happen to me is him wanting to call me his father. I was on a ledge ready to jump when me and Syd split up, and I walked right into you. Right into all three of you.”

All the energy she’d needed to hold everything together left, all at once. She wanted to see her boys, to hold them, but she was afraid it would only further mess them up. Her job as a mother was her deepest insecurity, and the truth about Theo’s ‘veeny’ dreams was a hammer thrashing what had cracked open long ago.

Time slowed. 

She was supposed to be the Mama Bear, fiercely protective of her cubs. Mr. Veeny…Lavigne…whatever, he’d been right there. Right there.

And who was to say he hadn’t done something and Theo had repressed it to come out later? She didn’t want that kind of life for her baby. That kind of burden could change entire personalities, and no one should be allowed to come in and change them that way. But she’d let them climb right in through the window.

Joel carried her upstairs and sat on the bed with his arms around her. She cried against his chest, and his voice wavered when he spoke.

“Ayesha, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

How could she be mad at him? He’d kept it from her because of this. He’d wanted to prolong this happening for as long as he could. Everything inside her wanted to argue with him that he’d kept it from her, hid it from her, lied by omission…but she wished even now that she didn’t know. She wished he’d kept it from her forever.

“Man, Eesh…” He held her tighter. “Let me fix this. Want me to go get the boys?”

She cried harder.

“I do sometimes feel like I’m screwing him up, if I’m being honest,” Ayesha admitted. “A kid raising a kid, basically. Somewhat.”

“You know the guys think I’m old as hell, right?” Curtis asked. “Don’t tell them how old you are. They’ll think I’m a pervert.”

“Curtis, I’m about to be twenty-five.”

“And I was in the second grade when you were born. I was practically a grown man.”

“Please. You probably still used those fat crayons in second grade.”

“I still use them now.”

Laughing, she buried her face in the mattress.

“Even if we do screw ‘Siah up,” Curtis said, chuckling, “he’s ours to screw up.”

“I don’t want him to have to go through therapy to recover from his childhood.”

“Eesh, he has a father whose job is to kill people undetected.”

“He doesn’t know that!”

“Some shit’s gonna rub off. Like, he’ll accidentally take C4 to show and tell or something, and then I’ll have to tell all his friends it’s Play-Doh while the FBI tackles me to the ground.”

“Oh my God.” She laughed even harder. “You’re perfect, Curtis. Josiah is in great hands.”

“Neither one of us is perfect but, in my opinion, imperfect people make the best parents.”

“So, we do our best?”

“We do our best,” he echoed. “And love each other all the way to the end.”

She smiled, staring at his handsome face and watching the rise and fall of his chest. Each breath meant that his heart still beat, and once he came home, she’d lie on that chest and listen to it every night as they drifted off.

“Curtis, do you think you’d be able to remarry if something happened to me?”

He scoffed. “Yeah.”

“Damn.”

“I’m just kidding, mama!” His laugh crackled through the laptop speaker. “To be honest, I don’t know. With Jojo, and if we ever have any more kids, it would be hard. I’d want her to love them, you know? And it’s not easy to ask someone else to love kids that aren’t theirs.”

“That’s fair.”

“How about you? Same question, Mrs. Savea.”

“Same answer,” she replied. “He’d have to feel like somebody you would have picked for me yourself.”

“Well then, let me think, now. What kind of man would I pick for you? I mean, Gage is single.”

“And, no offense, he’s fine as hell.”

“There you go.”

“Stop it.” She giggled. “For you, I’d pick someone understanding, patient, and who doesn’t care about rubbing your size seventeen feet when they’re sore.”

He roared another laugh. “You’re essentially telling me that you want me to never remarry.”

“Just about.”

“Actually, wait. Let me really think about this.” He tapped his chin, focus just off-screen. 

It was impossible to tell where he was. Everything was dark, and she made out a few silhouettes here and there that looked like everything and nothing at all. Sometimes it was easy, like when he stayed in luxury homes and expensive hotels. Times like now, when he was in the middle of nowhere underneath tents and inside caves, all she could do was pray that, when their call ended, he remained safe until they spoke again.

“The man I’d pick for you…he’d work you like a miner, picking and picking until he breaks down those walls,” he said. “When you’re frustrated, he doesn’t wilt. When you’re angry, he doesn’t rise to match you but helps you calm down. When you’re sad or depressed, he doesn’t let you turn him away. And, I know it’s asking for a lot, but I’d prefer it if he pulled along well with the guys. These are my brothers, and I don’t want some fool coming into your life who doesn’t know what being part of this family is like.”

“Are you still pawning me off on Gage?”

“Or Dez. They’re both single right now.”

“What about Giorgio?”

“Ayesha, I love you, but you’re not the woman for Giorgio. She’s out there, somewhere, but I’d rather you stay single or get ten cats  and a python before you try to tame that beast.”

She nodded. “Noted. And I love you too, Curtis.” 

He grinned. “You love me, baby?”

“I always will.”

“Go ahead and call me ‘Big Daddy’ one good time.”

“Bye.”

“Ayesha, I love you,” Joel said, his lips in her hair. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

* * *

Joel made his way downstairs, phone pressed to his ear. 

“Hey, bestie,” Larke greeted on the second ring. “Me and Dez have the boys, by the way. It’s been a while since we’ve spent time with them, so I hope you don’t mind them staying for dinner.”

“Of course not.”

“So, tell me what happened now?”

He recounted the scene from only a few hours before. 

“I left Eesh upstairs asleep, and I don’t know what to say to her when she wakes up. I’ve…never seen her like that, Larke. I need to make this right or…”

He didn’t know how to finish.

“Joel, you’re worried that Eesh will, I don’t know, shut down or dish out ultimatums and whatnot, but that’s not Eesh’s style.” 

It hadn’t been Sydney’s either. 

Not until she met him.

“You know there’d be a deathmatch in this house between me and Dez at least once a month if we didn’t feel about each other the way we do. I mean, I wanted to take him out the other day for eating my chocolate bar. Talking about, ‘But Monroe ate most of it’ like my baby just opened the refrigerator and got it herself.”

Joel glanced at the stairs when he heard a noise come from what sounded like the bedroom. “Not the one me, you, and Mike spent nearly two hours trying to find? The one that’s a replica from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?”

“That same damn one.”

“I think Tay and Gage would have had an actual death match. You know she doesn’t play when it comes to her sweets.”

“You’re right.” Larke giggled. “Look, I’d be messed up too if I found out someone dangerous had come that close to Monroe without me knowing, and it doesn’t matter what we do or how strong we get. We won’t be you guys. Ayesha won’t ask you to be, but be there for her. What you don’t know is that, when she was alone in Maui, she was scared. Terrified, sometimes. She’s never said it outright, but me and the girls read through the lines. She doesn’t really have family, so it was just the three of them until you came along.”

Ayesha’s voice rang out from upstairs. “Joel? Can you bring me something to eat, please?”

“I’ve got you.” He returned to his conversation with Larke. “So I should do, what? Make her feel safe?”

“Do what you do best…be you. It’s not some kind of cardinal sin to like being in the arms of the person you love. And look, I’ll never be Dez. Never in a million years. You six are not normal human beings, so when I lie down at night with my husband next to me, I sleep like a rock knowing he’ll do whatever he can to keep me and Monroe safe. Right now, Eesh is scared. Just like your presence is helping Theo and Josiah feel safe again, Eesh needs that too.”

He smiled to himself, heading to the kitchen. Larke was so right, he didn’t need to verbally agree. They’d focused on the boys so much, on him. Ayesha was better at this than he realized, shifting all the attention away from her so that he didn’t feel “obligated” to take care of her. 

It was no obligation. 

It wasn’t even a duty. 

“Thank you, Larke. I could kiss you.”

“You could do what, now?” Dez’s voice boomed. 

Larke faked a gasp. “Oh no, Joel. He’s caught us. Dez, honey, I can explain…”

Joel laughed. “Thanks again, L. Love you, boo.”

“Lattimore, don’t make me put my foot—”

He hung up, reheated a couple of the chicken burritos Ayesha had mentioned earlier, and when he returned to the room, he found her wearing only his shirt. Puffiness made her eyes look swollen, but gone was the heavy mask of grief she’d fallen asleep with. 

She attempted a smile. “Thank you, babe.”

He handed over her plate and took a seat next to her on the bed. They ate, Ayesha sniffling and clearing her throat periodically, and he remained quiet, giving her the space she needed to talk. 

“They’re good boys,” she said, after a long while, when her plate was empty. “Right?”

He nodded. “Good human beings.”

“And I raised them, so that must count for something.”

“We’re going to have to better plan our crises,” he teased. “We can’t have them back to back like this again.”

A smile twitched her cheek, and she edged nearer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. 

Something released in his chest. All she had to do was touch him, and his heart was the entire drumline in a university marching band. All he had to do was touch her… That night in the car after the school fair in Maui, each time his fingertips met her skin, he kept needing hit after hit. Then, touch wasn’t enough—he needed to hold her hand, trap her fingers. When even that stopped being enough, he needed her in his arms, her mouth on his, her heat wrapped around him.

“I don’t want to fail them, Joel.”

“What makes you think you will?”

“It’s a chronic fear of mine. My anxiety goes from baseline to ‘oh, shit’ the minute I realize, really realize how responsible I am for them. I second-guess myself every day—am I spending enough time with Josiah? Am I coddling him? Am I coddling Theo? Do I not cuddle him enough? Was I too harsh that one time? Am I taking my frustrations out on them? Is this the one time I’ll yell at them and turn them into ax murderers? I mean, what was it that made my baby think he couldn’t tell me this was happening? Did I make him not trust me?”

Joel’s very own mother, a woman who he thought had done an amazing job raising him, had often questioned if she knew what she was doing with him and his sister. She never told them that directly, but he’d overhear her on the phone with her friends, his aunts, and his grandmother. She worried whenever she raised her voice, or if the punishment she’d doled out had been too harsh, just like Ayesha did, but that wasn’t, at all, what he remembered. 

He remembered huge Sunday dinners, the way she smelled when she hugged him, and eating chocolate biscotti with her on their back patio. He remembered her hair and her eyes, both of which he got from her, and the way she’d smile at him when he came downstairs in the mornings for breakfast.

All things considered, to him, she was perfect. Jemma Lattimore, for all her worrying, had done an excellent job as his mother. It was even possible that her worrying had helped her do an excellent job. 

“Theo didn’t tell you because he was trying to protect you,” Joel said. “Lavigne said he’d hurt you and Josiah if he did. For a little kid, that’s pretty damn brave. Where do you think he learned that?”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “From you.”

“I have been around for a while, haven’t I?”

“Yes. And, I’d like for you to stay around for a while.”

“How long, you think?”

“You’re mine until I say you’re not, and that won’t happen so…forever?” She wrapped her arms around him, and he tightened his hold on her. 

“You know it’s okay to need me, right?” he asked. “To make you feel safe, I mean. Me being in your life doesn’t mean, on your own, you were doing a bad job. Josiah said you make him feel loved and cared for, and I make him feel safe. This thing we’re doing, it’s a team effort. My job is to protect my family, and I’m going to do that.”

“But if you weren’t around—”

“Does it matter? Because I am around. Lean on me. I’m going to be there for you. I’m going to make things easier for you in any way that I can. You won’t have to do all that alone anymore. I’m not going to sweep the rug out from under you, make you get all cozy, and then sneak off.” He squeezed her against him. “Ayesha, I’ve got you.”

She nodded, her voice again full of tears but without the agony. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know, but I want to.”

He kissed her forehead. “God, Eesh…Josiah lights up when he talks about you, and you should have seen Theo scrutinize all the flowers at the shop because he had to get you the ‘perfect’ bouquet. Everywhere we went, people kept telling me how my ‘son’ was so ‘adorable’ and ‘kind.’ You know Theo played it up too.”

“He can get extra cute when he wants to.”

“Eesh, you three are mine. When you go to sleep tonight, know that it’s with my love and protection wrapped around you, around this house, and you’ll have it until Joel Lattimore is no more.”

Her shoulders lowered, an obvious boulder of relief having been crushed. 

As a self-proclaimed obsessed madman, he knew that before he and the guys left Sweden to address the kill order, he was going to propose to Ayesha with the ring burning a hole in his pocket every-single-day. The time they’d spent taking care of each other, taking care of the boys, and falling for one another before officially accepting they wanted to be together was like time served.

It wasn’t too soon. And, even if it was, this was about them, not anyone else.

She pressed her lips against his and then tried to leave the bed, but he held her in place.

“I have to start dinner,” she said.

“No, you don’t.” He coaxed her onto her back and raised the shirt, exposing her naked lower half. “The boys are having dinner with Dez and Larke, and we just ate.” 

“Well, I have to go check the sink. It’s doing that gurgling thing again.”

“Didn’t Theo say he lost a race car recently?” 

“I believe he did.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll just do the thing I did last time.”

Her eyes closed. “You mean call a plumber?”

“Exactly.” 

He nudged her legs apart with his knees and lowered his head between them.

* * *

He’d expected Syd, not Syd and Dmitri. 

They’d showed up together at the restaurant, hand in hand, Syd wearing a loose-fitting top that didn’t do as good a job hiding her belly that she’d probably assumed. It was easier to admit than he’d anticipated that they looked good together. If Syd was pregnant, if she was happy, he wanted her to have the fairy-tale, happily ever after ending that hadn’t been his fate to give her.

He’d learned from Larke that Syd had given Ayesha the third degree about his and Ayesha’s relationship that same morning she’d showed up, unexpectedly, at the house. They’d been split up long enough, at least he’d assumed they’d been split up long enough for her to be able to deal with seeing someone else in his bed. Maybe, had it been someone other than Ayesha, it would have been less of an issue. 

The guys had admitted that they’d never questioned the timing of his and Ayesha’s relationship—the stars had simply aligned at the right time for them both.

“So, what do you think?” Sydney asked.

Joel blinked. “What?”

She released a sigh, tossing up a set of straightened bangs that he’d never expected would be a look for her. “Where do you go these days, my friend?”

“My mind was…on steak.”

And Ayesha.

“You were thinking about Ayesha,” she said. “Remember, I used to be married to you.”

“And remember I used to be married to you, so this little pregnancy announcement is old news.”

She and Dmitri shared a look.

“You knew?” she asked.

“I had a hunch ever since that morning you showed up outside me and Eesh’s bedroom door.”

“Theo walked me up.” 

“Theo’s five.”

“Well,” she wrinkled her nose, “I didn’t know you had company. I mean, the last time we spoke, you couldn’t even admit how you felt about her.”

“Because it wasn’t easy. I was falling in love at a time when I didn’t think it was possible, and with a woman who was several levels above taboo. I felt like I was breaking some bro code or something.”

“You didn’t even know Curtis.”

“That’s what I’m saying, but shit was still hard.”

Dmitri jumped in. “Um…we’re trying not to curse around the babies.”

“Babies?” Joel leaned back as the server placed a glass of lemonade in front of him. “You’re having twins, Syd? Wow, that’s…amazing.”

“We just found out.” She slouched as if the realization suddenly reminded her she was tired. “One of the babies was blocking the other, and their heartbeats were in sync. It’s two boys.”

Joel felt a tug in his chest, unexpected but still there. He was jealous, but not of Dmitri. Syd hadn’t even known whether she wanted children, and there she was with two.

“Any names yet?” he asked, taking a large gulp of lemonade.

She flicked a thumb at Dmitri. “He wants one of them to be named after his cousin. The other one is still up in the air.”

Dmitri sipped his drink, a small glass of whiskey on ice. “It’s because I’m not a fan of my name. I was supposed to be named Dominik, but my mother changed her mind at the last minute and let my uncle take the name.”

The server returned. “Are we ready to order?”

Joel and Dmitri put in their orders, and Sydney placed an order that had enough food for three people. 

“I better lose this weight after these guys are here,” she said as the server walked off. “I want to eat all the damn time.”

Joel grinned so wide, the corners of his mouth pained him a little. “Eesh said she was like that with Josiah.”

“I keep hearing about this Eesh,” Dmitri said. “How’d you two meet? Syd hasn’t told me.”

“We’re all friends,” Joel answered. “I essentially met the group through Gage. After the divorce, I guess you could say me and Eesh inadvertently leaned on each other.”

“And you fell for her.”

“Yep.”

“How long do you think it took you?”

Joel frowned. “I mean, I wasn’t keeping a calendar or anything. One minute, she was Ayesha. The next, she was Ayesha. After that, it was pretty much a free fall. I mean, we were at the beach. We always went to the beach. But that one day, I don’t know, something changed.”

“Would you say things just kind of clicked?” Dmitri prodded.

Joel nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Clicked and grew. It got harder and harder to leave her. I’m just now realizing that I used to hold my breath until I saw her at the airport. And, after a while, the hugs felt different. She went from hugging me up under my arms,” he demonstrated, elbows bent, “to hugging me around my neck. Holding on a little longer.”

That very last time he’d flown out, he’d taken a carry-on so he didn’t have to wait for a bag and prolong getting to her. 

When he saw her, he went right over and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet. In his mind, he was being Joel, being playful, but he held her that day. And God, it was so good. She was soft in all the right places, even the places she hated to be soft. She’d smelled like honey and oranges in her hair, soap on her neck. As they’d released each other, the sides of their faces brushed, and it had taken everything in him not to grab the back of her head and devour her mouth.

The server brought their food, set it on the table, and as Sydney asked for remoulade to put on her French fries, she asked him, “Have you bought the ring yet?”

Joel laughed and let his head briefly hang. “Maybe.”

“Pay up, babe.” Sydney wiggled her fingers at Dmitri. “Told you.”

“You went right in for the kill,” Dmitri argued. “I was buttering him up, first.”

“He’s my ex-husband. Of course, I was going to be right.”

“What about you two?” Joel asked. “Any wedding bells in your future?”

They looked at each other.

“We don’t want to move too fast, you know?” Dmitri said. Then, they both burst out laughing.

Grinning, Joel shook his head, their amusement infectious.

“We’re focused on the babies right now,” Sydney said. “But, I guess he’s all right.”

Dmitri shrugged. “The verdict is still out on this one.”

“It better not be.”

Dmitri kissed the side of her head and whispered something in Russian that made her smile.

“Does everyone else know yet?” he asked. 

Sydney dipped a handful of fries in what was essentially tartar sauce. “Nope. I wanted to tell you first. We’ll be out for a visit for Grey’s birthday. We’ll do it then. But, enough about us. How do you plan to propose?”

He’d told Giorgio that he was thinking about proposing. The next thing he knew, he was at Giorgio’s jeweler in London with Mike and Xara, and he had to admit…Giorgio had a pretty damn good eye for virtually everything luxury. Xara had designed the ring, saying it was for her brand, and asked for input from everyone but only took Ayesha’s.

It was a solitaire ring with a yellow diamond that would look perfect on Ayesha’s finger, but that was about as much as he remembered because he’d started internally panicking as Xara had explained all the features. 

Ayesha could say no. 

She could say she wasn’t ready, that they were rushing things.

He, Mike, and Giorgio had gone to a bar afterward, and only four shots of whiskey had done the trick to calm him down. 

For now, when the ring wasn’t with him, it stayed with Larke and Dez. He did, however, show it to Josiah who’d smiled bigger than he’d ever seen Josiah smile.

“Why is he sweating?” he heard Dmitri ask.

“Joel?” Sydney snapped her fingers. “Come back to us, Joel.”

He exhaled, and it felt like he’d been holding his breath for days. A quick swipe of his forehead with his fingers told him Dmitri hadn’t been exaggerating. Was he really about to do this again? He’d been nervous to ask Syd and look how that turned out. He didn’t want to lose Ayesha. Ever. She was his. They had a family together.

“I…uh, I don’t know yet,” he replied. “We talked about, kind of, me doing it on the beach? But, I don’t know. I want to do it before we leave, though.”

Sydney pulled everything but the tomatoes out of her sandwich and took a bite. “Leave where?”

“Me and the guys.”

“Oh.” She chewed. “Hmm. Maybe don’t do it yet, then. What if you don’t come back?”

“It’s not the same.” He pushed his plate away. “We’re not going out for the same reasons as before.”

“Still.” Sydney shrugged. “Ayesha’s sweet. Even when I was being a complete dick to her, she was still sweet. I can’t imagine the universe wanting to hurt her twice, but I’d be cautious.”

Dmitri jumped in. “You love each other. She’s lost a husband. To me, that means don’t wait. From what I understand, you two have had feelings for each other for a long time even if your relationship is still new. So, it’s like time-served.”

Which was exactly how he saw it.

“If it was me, I’d get engaged and married before I left.” Dmitri stole one of Sydney’s fries. “You two want kids?”

Joel’s phone chimed with a text message.

Ayesha: I love you. Just so you know.

“That must be her,” Sydney teased. “Look at how wide he’s grinning.”

Joel scrubbed his hand down his face. “Shut up, Syd.”

“It’s getting even wider!”

Ayesha: Btw, can you bring me something sweet on the way back?

Joel: So, myself?

Ayesha: Something for me to eat *before* I swallow you whole later tonight.

A picture came through of Theo, fast asleep, in his room. In his very own bed.

Joel: Whaaaat? I am on my way.

Ayesha: 

Joel looked up. “So…I have to go. Emergency at home.”

Sydney rolled her eyes, grinning now herself. “Uh, huh.”

“The pipes at the house…burst.”

“I bet.”

He placed a quick order for a slice of Swedish apple pie, and when the server brought the food, Dmitri offered to pay the bill.

“Well, I should’ve gotten something more expensive,” Joel said, rising from the table. 

“I want to make sure you get to those pipes,” Dmitri said. “As soon as possible. That kind of thing, you don’t want to wait on.”

Sydney burst out laughing. “Oh, baby. You’re so adorable. His pipes are fine. It’s Ayesha’s pipes he’s about to go fix.”

Dmitri frowned. When it hit him, he laughed. “Oh! Well…the explanation still stands, I think.”

Sydney stood, and Joel pulled her in for a tight hug, laughing a little when her stomach poked him in his. Years ago, this would have been all he’d ever wanted. He didn’t think life would ever stop ceasing to amaze him in the quietest, yet somehow loudest of ways.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Congratulations, Mama. You’re about to be so huge.”

“Joel, get out of here before I stab you with this fork.”

* * *

He made it home in record time and walked right into another one of life’s little wonderful surprises—Ayesha standing in the middle of their bedroom in red lace, black silk, pumps, and stockings with garters. 

“Jesus.” He set down the pie container. “So I’m guessing you don’t want pie?”

She spun, and the back went up into a pair of G-string panties. Pre-cum dripped from the head of his dick, and he had to adjust himself to relieve the pressure of it pushing against his zipper.

“Oh no, I’m still going to eat that. Just…after.”

He walked over and looped his fingers through the waistband of the panties. “Can I come home to this every night?”

“Absolutely.” She reached up and kissed him. “Just get six more wives.”

“Wives?”

“Girlfriends.” She tapped her forehead. “Girlfriends. Freudian slip.”

Her slip-up definitely took the edge off the proposal. It wasn’t enough that he trusted himself holding the ring over a sink or manhole cover, but he might be able to sleep more than four hours a night again.

“You’re the psychoanalyst. What do they say about Freudian slips, again?” He bent and dragged his teeth along the curve of her neck. “You look amazing, by the way. I see ‘Book Club’s paying off.”

“I know nothing of which you speak.”

He palmed her left breast, his thumb skimming over the nipple, and he couldn’t stop the smile when she shivered from the tip of her head down to her toes. Fuck, he loved that shit. 

“Real quick, Joel?”

He brushed his lips over her jaw. “Hmm?”

“We’ll have to start using condoms soon.”

He leaned back. “Any particular reason why?”

“Are you really giving me the ‘who else are you sleeping with’ face right now? You’re so sexy, who would I sleep with? Unless it’s, like, Charlie Hunnam or something.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Wait, doesn’t Dez resemble—”

“But, we’ll have to use condoms because I’m thinking about getting the IUD removed.”

“Why? Was it causing you problems? Are you okay?”

“No problems, and I’m fine.”

“I don’t mind using condoms,” he said, and part of him believed it. 

Her eyes fell, and she gripped her fingers.

“Eesh, what is it? What’s going on?”

“So, I know you guys are leaving soon,” she began. “Julien told Ari, and she spilled the beans.”

“We were gonna say something, but we wanted everyone to relax a little.” He tipped her chin up. “Ayesha, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I’m just realizing that this might be a really bad idea, and I don’t know if I want to bring it up.”

“Tell me anyhow.”

“Joel…we don’t have to use the condoms.”

“Now, I’m confused.”

“Um…so…what if…never mind. It’s a bad idea, isn’t it?” She shook her head so rapidly, he grabbed her chin to keep it from flying off her neck. “You’d think, by now, I’d learn… It’s just…I think I want this, Joel. I think I’ve wanted this for a while. No, I know I do. Unless we’re moving too fast. I mean, we haven’t even talked about—”

“Kids?” 

“…Yeah.” She released a quivering breath. “It’s just that, we’re both in this for the long haul, and I don’t see myself going anywhere, and I really want this with you, but…am I rushing things? I’m probably rushing things. I think I just got scared because you’re leaving, and it’s a really bad idea because what if something happens and—”

He brought his mouth down to hers, his hand cradling the back of her neck. She grabbed his elbows, head arched back, and pushed onto her toes even though she was wearing sky-high heels. When they pulled apart, he took her hand and held it, his thumb rubbing her knuckles.

Her rambling continued. “This was selfish of me, wasn’t it? I just decided I wanted it removed without telling you, but I wouldn’t, you know, do that to you. Not tell you, I mean. I’m not trying to trap you or anything.”

“You want to have my baby, Eesh?” He ran his fingers over the lace in her bra. “Did you wear this to soften the blow of asking that question? What’d you think I’d say?”

“That it’s a stupid idea since we’re not married.”

“What if,” he nudged her back toward the bed, “we have sex tonight and you get pregnant?”

“The IUD’s pretty effective.”

She was so cute when she was nervous. 

“I mean, hypothetically. You get pregnant. Then what?”

“What do you—” He toppled her backward onto the mattress and slipped off her shoes. “What do you mean?”

He pulled off his shirt, and she whimpered when her gaze fell to his chest and stomach.

“You think I’ll walk out on you or something?” he asked. “No, baby. I wouldn’t do that.”

He stepped out of his jeans and boxer briefs, and her gaze lowered. She reached out and ran her thumb over the fat head of his dick, swirling his pre-cum before she stuck the finger into her mouth. Then, the warmth of her mouth closed around him. 

He hissed, saw flashes of white, and pulled back out of her mouth. Not tonight. Tonight, he would fill her with every last drop. He would fill her until she spilled over, falling asleep only to wake up a sticky, satisfied mess. 

Ayesha wanted to have his baby.

“Why’d you pull away?” She looked up at him, lips already beginning to swell from moving them over the length of his erection. 

He tipped his head at her bra.

She popped out her breasts, the dark tips making his mouth water.

“Back.”

She pushed back on the bed, and when her legs fell open, he smiled. 

“Tell me what you want, Ayesha.” He kissed a trail from her chest down over her belly button, stopping just above her glistening sex which grew wetter and wetter in front of his eyes. “Tell me exactly what you were trying to say earlier.”

“That I wouldn’t mind having your baby.”

He groaned and used two fingers to spread her. “You can do better than that.”

“That I…I want to have your baby.”

He lowered his head, licking first, sucking on her lips before letting his tongue slip between the seam to find her clit. He kept her parted with his thumbs, paying attention to the spot on the organ where she was most sensitive. 

When he looked up, she was wetting her fingers, squeezing her nipples. The muscles in her thighs pulled and, as she got closer to climax, her hips rocked. He latched on tighter, sucking her clit until she gasped and her body went stiff. Until she pulled away when he tried to keep going, shivering in the room which had warmed up considerably since they started.

He climbed over her, nudging her legs as wide as she could take having them. “I’m not going anywhere, Ayesha.”

“So…you want this?”

He pushed into her. 

She swallowed a cry.

“I want this,” he said. “God, I want this. You are fucking amazing, you know that?”

Ayesha was in his head. Between the way she felt, soaking after her climax, and what she wanted with him, his balls were already beginning to tighten. 

“How could you know?” He lowered, pushed into her harder, faster. “How could you know, be so sure that you want this with me?”

She held onto his shoulders. “It’s all I think about.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want anybody else.”

“So, will you—“ He stopped himself. He was not going to ask her with half his dick inside her and no ring. “Would you be happy having a baby with me?”

“I want to have your baby, Joel. Let me have your baby.”

The sweet, sweet burn of climax threatened to claim him as her hand slipped between them, working furiously. It took Herculean strength, but he stopped moving and sucked on her pebbled nipples until she cried out.

“Joel, you feel so good.” Her pussy tightened around him, tugging and pulling. “Please come inside me. I want to feel you come inside me.”

It didn’t take long, not with her heat and the deep flush of her skin. 

Thick ropes of semen spurted from the tip of his dick inside her, and he’d never felt anything like it before. This was different. This was definitely different.

When he looked down at her, she had a massive smile on her face.

“What?” he asked, smiling himself.

“Two things.” She played, as best as she could, in his sweaty locks. “One, Theo deserves something for sleeping in his own bed tonight.”

“Of course.”

“And two.” Her smile grew even larger. “I’m glad we found each other.”

Marry me.

“What about mar…shmallows?” he asked. “For Theo.”

Marry me.

“Mar…bles?”

Marry me.

“Mar…garine?”

She laughed. “You’re so weird.”

“But you like weird.”

“Nope.” She raised her head, kissed him. “I love weird.”

* * *

Lee Jeong Hyeok dragged buckets of air into his lungs, his grip tight on the burning pain in his shoulder. Where the fuck had that bullet even come from? One minute he was following Adrían and the next, he was free-falling out of a massive elm tree after taking a shell to the right shoulder from behind.

But it was pitch black outside. Who, the hell, could have possibly made that shot?

It was faint, but footsteps were approaching, so he buried himself deeper into the brush. He’d lost Adrían somewhere inside the wooded area. They’d agreed that he would follow within a certain distance to try to locate Ayesha Savea, but with the turns and twists Adrían had made, it was like his comrade had tried to purposely lose him. 

Adrían had always been strange when it came to Ayesha. Lavigne had suggested that it was because Gano and Savea had hooked up back in Maui, but Adrían wasn’t the kind of man who’d let something as simple as sex get in the way of completing a mission. 

The footsteps stopped, and the person spoke. “You think a little lack of moonlight will keep you hidden?”

Hyeok buried himself even deeper.

The footsteps disappeared, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Then a man was somehow standing over him, a man he hadn’t heard or seen, and that was virtually impossible to do…unless…

“Let me guess, you’re the one everybody calls ‘The Shadow’?”

The man’s head shook. “Nobody calls me that.” 

“What do they call you?”

“Wei.” The man crouched in front of him. “Central is unimaginative as shit. Where are you from?”

“Kaesong.”

“North Korea?” Wei, who definitely had to be the one they called The Shadow, scanned Hyeok from head to toe. “Now that, I’m impressed by.”

“How’d you make that shot? Can’t see shit out here.”

Wei scratched the side of his head with the nozzle of a Beretta. “I made an educated guess.”

“You used a handgun in pitch-black night to make that shot?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. It’s not my call, but you’ll live to see another day. I don’t know how many more but, then again…that’s your call.”

Hyeok shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“You will.” The Shadow walked backward, toward the cover of the trees. “Now, don’t go too far, you hear?”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

11: MoJay vs das Biest04/24/2021

Xara’s jaw dropped. “Oh, my…lanta. Is that Gage?”

The blond hair, those green eyes which were more striking underneath the strip lights, and that tall, muscular physique could belong to no one else. 

Ayesha squinted at the ring. “If Gage is up there, does that mean—”

“I knew it.” Mo’s eyelids disappeared inside their sockets. “The Murderer of Moscow is here. The Slasher of St. Petersburg. The Killer of Krasnodar.”

“How many Russian cities have you aligned him with?” Ayesha asked.

Xara’s head whipped around, eyes searching in the dark. “Do you think they’re all here?” 

Mo looked down at her phone. “So, uh, my fight’s back on. Tell Aleksi that his mother loved him, and she didn’t truly want to go out this way.”

All of them, except for Tayler, peered at the screen. Tayler had yet to look away from the cage.

#5 – MoJay v Das Biest

Release Date Schedule11: MoJay v Das Biest – 04/2412: One Last Thing, Before I Go – 04/2513: From Central to the End – 04/30