Talk about commitment.
I was beginning to see that Twitch never did anything he set his mind to in a half-assed manner. Life, work, love. He was extreme in all ways. Intense. And now that I had lived without him, I came to appreciate what he gave to me.
He was mine and I was his, unconditionally, and we were finally happy.
As we left Luka’s, I lost myself in thought as Twitch drove us home. I was only pulled from my thoughts when he reached out for my hand, entwining our fingers, and rested them on the center console. He looked at me a solid moment, searching my face before settling back onto the road. “You good, baby?”
Was I?
I thought about it.
“Yeah,” I breathed out quietly. “We’re good.”
I know it wasn’t what he asked, but it was the answer he got, and from his slight smile, it was the answer he wanted. When he opened his mouth and out came, “I fucking love you,” it sounded more like a threat than an endearment, and it was so severe, so stark, I couldn’t help it.
I snorted loudly.
And Twitch’s smile widened into a grin.
Goddamn it.
I loved this man, and I let it be known. Leaning over, I pressed my lips to his cheek, kissing the roughness there warmly, fondly, over and over, and as I moved to pull back, he frowned.
“Hey. Get back here.”
When he gripped the front of my shirt and thrust me to him, I let out a little “Eek,” as our lips met harshly. He took my mouth in a way that poems spoke of. Without falter, in complete abandon, and the earth stopped moving for the seconds our lips were joined.
How could I live without this urgent kind of love?
The answer came swiftly.
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
And as my eyes fluttered open again, I felt my cheeks warm while the headiness subsided. I stared at the man opposite me a long while, and when he turned back to wink at me, my stomach coiled tight.
It didn’t take a genius to work out our brand of love was rare.
So when I opened my mouth again, I spoke softly. “I love you, Twitch.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but his grip on my hand tightened. The cocky asshole replied, “I know.”
I wanted to smack him then, but I didn’t.
Instead, I smiled gently out into the open road. “Good.”
The utter bliss I felt at that moment felt so consuming, so strong, that my mind just had to go ruin it.
Yeah. You’re happy now. But how long will it last, Lexi?
Just like that. Mood ruined.
My anxiety returned tenfold. My mind wandered. My insides flipped almost painfully.
We would be fine.
I mean, what else could go wrong? Everything was as it should be.
My mind laughed.
Don’t hold your breath.
But because I believed in us and wanted this to work so badly, I did.
I shouldn’t have.
Chapter
FortySix
Lexi My heart stuttered the moment I saw the familiar police car parked out front.
“Twitch,” I muttered as I sat up straighter, my lips parting in dread.
His brows pulled down in confusion, and he spoke softly, obviously sensing I was easy to spook. “It’s probably nothing.”
He was probably right. But what if it wasn’t?
I had already undone my seatbelt by the time Twitch pulled into the drive, and when the car came to a stop, I flew out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me, and rushed toward the house with a racing heart and wide eyes. The second I opened the front door, I called out, “A.J!”
He didn’t respond. My apprehension turned to sheer terror. And when I made it down the hall, I stilled in my steps, meeting Gabe Blanco’s solemn eyes. I held those eyes, and I breathed heavily as I asked an unsteady “Where’s my son, Gabe?”
My back warmed as Twitch stood protectively at my six.
I wasn’t expecting the answer I received. “Child Protective Services.”
My mouth gaped. My stomach dropped.
From behind me, Twitch uttered in complete disbelief, “Say again?”
Gabe sat at our dining table, sipping on the coffee he’d helped himself to, and shrugged. “I don’t know what you were expecting, Falco.” He leveled us with a stare that I was sure was used to intimidate the worst of criminals. “You refuse to give a statement. Refuse to let us talk to the boy—”
Twitch stepped past me, his eyes thunderous, and boomed, “He’s not ready. He’s healing.”
“We have questions, Twitch. Questions you refuse to answer.” Gabe stood, meeting Twitch move for move as he raised his voice. “And now, a higher power has decided they’re done waiting for you to be ready. So, well done.” Gabe spun around, running a hand through his short brown hair. “Fuck!” He twisted back and glowered at Twitch. “You think I wanted this?” He shook his head. “Look at me like that all you want, asshole.” He pressed his pointed finger into Twitch’s chest. “You caused this, not me.”
I was listening, but it was hard to comprehend.
What did this mean?
The silence was thick enough to carve with a knife, and when Twitch slapped away Gabe’s hand from his person, I felt the blood roaring in my ears.
My query came out monotone. “You’re taking our son from us?”
It was my worst fear come to life.
Gabe looked heavenward and placed his hands on his hips. When he lowered his head, he refused to look at me. “I’m not doing anything, Alexa.” His lips thinned. “I told you, this is out of my hands.” He took in a deep breath and talked through the slow exhale. “If it’s any consolation, Molly is with him.”
Tony’s cheek ticked. “I swear to God, you piece of shit, if anything happens to him—” Twitch took a menacing step forward, but I took a handful of the back of his shirt, holding him back.
“Stop, baby.” My voice was barely audible.
We had to be smart here.
To my surprise, he stalled in his tracks, breathing heavily through his nose, his body vibrating with pent-up anger.
I was a qualified social worker. I knew the system. I knew it inside out.
They couldn’t do this.
They couldn’t.
They could.
No. Not with my son they couldn’t.
Sure. Tell yourself that, Lexi.
Feeling a stinging ache in my chest, I pondered this new development. We weren’t dealing with just anyone here. We were dealing with a system higher up than the Australian Federal Police. That only meant one thing.
We were now dealing with ASIO.
Jesus freaking Christ.
This was not good.
The Australian Security Intelligence Organization. And an organization like that got shit done. An organization like that had no rules.
I swallowed hard, gaining my bearings, and wrapped my hands around Tony’s arm to stop him from taking an unsuspecting lunge at an Australian Federal Police officer. “What do we need to do here, Gabe?” When he didn’t respond, I pled through my grief. “Please,” I uttered. “Don’t do it for us. Do it for A.J. He’s probably terrified.” The thought made my stomach dip.
And when I looked up at Twitch, he peered down at me with a resolve that told me we would do anything to get him back. Because forever meant nothing without our son.
“I guess.” Gabe sighed out loud before pursing his lips. “I guess you could start by giving a statement. Telling us what really happened that night.” He didn’t look impressed with the pair of us. “That would be a start.”
And because Gabe Blanco knew who my husband was, knew who we were, he picked up his keys and began to move toward the front door. “I’m gonna give you some time to...” He paused. “...process these events.”
Bullshit.
He was giving us time to get our stories straight.
Before he left, he handed us his card. “See you in an hour, yeah?”
“We’ll be there,” uttered Twitch, placing the card into his pocket.
And once we were alone, we turned to each other, looking almost as bad as we both felt.
My eyes closed of their own accord as my shoulders drooped. “I’m starting to get real sick of this shit, honey.”