by Belle Aurora
I took in a deep breath before my gaze darkened, and I stated loudly, “I’m disappointed.” Peering into every set of eyes, I went on. “Should I lie down right here, or would you prefer if I bent over the bar?” At their clear confusion, I said, “Well, you’re all fucking me so hard that I may as well get comfortable.”
At that, every set of eyes turned downcast in silent apology.
The Turks knew better than to come here. This was my club. I fucking owned it, but that didn’t excuse the behavior of my Dragons.
I thought about this situation, and the single sentence I thought so often came to mind.
What would Twitch do?
It was my mantra, how I lived my life, and so far, it had served me well.
“Who was it?” I took a step closer. “Which wise guy started it?”
After a long moment, one of them stepped forward. I didn’t hesitate. I lifted the gun and pulled the trigger, the echo of the shot sounding too loud in the almost empty building. I took no joy in watching the man fall to the ground in a lifeless heap.
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “When are you fuckers gonna learn? Ling giveth.” My eyes snapped open once again and my face twisted in rage. “Ling taketh away.”
As I turned, I uttered, “Decide where your loyalties lie and decide quickly.” I was so angry. “Because Momma’s this close to drowning her young.”
An agitated sigh left me.
Sometimes, it was hard being queen.
I felt his presence, knowing he was on my ass, and the second I stepped outside, his strong arm came around my shoulders, pulling me to him. “Don’t sweat it.”
It was frustrating. I expected this position to give so much more than it took. No wonder none of my brothers objected to my takeover.
Five brothers, and none of them wanted the throne. I should’ve known.
On the other hand, I had their respect. I’d told them all straight up. They didn’t have to love me; they didn’t even have to like me, but they would respect me. Because I was the motherfucking queen of The Dragons, and that position demanded respect.
It was important to me.
I started from the bottom and quite literally fucked my way up to the top, but now that I was peering down from Mount Olympus, I realized something was missing.
A king.
Only one man had ever been worthy of the title, and he was gone. He was missing. It meant nothing without him.
It was supposed to be us, the two of us, doing this together.
Sure, I might’ve been queen, but without a worthy king, the empire gained meant squat.
I still mourned the asshole, but I did it silently, in private, away from prying eyes.
So when Van pulled me deeper into his side and muttered, “Come smoke a blunt with me. We’ll talk,” I nodded.
Because nothing made me feel worse than being alone, and tonight, I was lonely.
The second we stepped inside Van’s house, I kicked my shoes off and threw my purse down on the counter before walking over to one of the three sofas and throwing myself back on it. Looking up at the ceiling, I wondered what the hell I wanted in life.
I had it all.
The money. The power. The grandeur.
Why was I being such a pouty little bitch?
Van came over to me, sat on the floor in front of me, put a hand to my knee, and squeezed it in a show of silent support.
He was my champion. My biggest supporter.
Sometimes, it felt like he was my only supporter.
Without a word, he took the small tin from his pocket and started rolling. He lit the end of the joint, taking a hit before passing it to me. I took it, putting it to my lips, and breathed in the strong, pungent smoke. I took another hit, then another, until the joint was plucked from my fingers.
We sat in silence a long time before I spoke into the dimly lit area, my voice just above a whisper. “Do you ever think about what Cha did to us?”
Our father was abusive in every way, shape, and form.
He didn’t hesitate. “All the time.”
It was hard growing up in a Vietnamese family and being the last of six children. To make matters worse, I was a girl. My father didn’t care for that at all. He let me know every moment of my life. The stories he told would shape me into the woman I was today.
How, the moment he found out I was a girl, he threw my mother down the stairs, right there in the hospital. How he reveled in her bleeding.
Unfortunately, I survived. In fact, I survived multiple attempts at termination, all at my father’s hand, and when I was born, he vowed to be rid of me, sooner rather than later.
Being groomed for sex was confusing. I remember being confused, at five years old, wondering why my father was suddenly being so nice to me. Had I been but older, I would have realized it was a trap. Being so young and craving my father’s approval, I did whatever was asked of me because when I did, he was happy with me.
It was your classic case of training. A textbook case of conditioning.
The coward didn’t even do the things he did himself. He would have my brothers do those terrible things to me, and when I took the throne from my father, I was going to make my brothers pay for what they did to me.
It was one night when Van and I had gotten into a relatively animated argument that I called him a pedophile. I wasn’t prepared for the blow, and when Van slapped me, he did it hard enough that I saw stars.
Panting through the shock, he leant over me as I clutched my cheek, and spat, “You think you’re the only victim here?” Well, yes, I had. And I watched my brother’s chest heave with anger, with anxiety, as he blinked away tears at the memories. “You think we wanted to do those things?” He shook his head. “You were too young to remember. You have no idea what was done to us if we refused.” He looked blankly at the wall. “He never touched you. That didn’t stop him from touching us.” When he snapped out of his trance, he blinked a moment then snarled at me. “You fucking watch how you talk to me, Ling Ling.” When he walked away, leaving me on the floor, he uttered, “Don’t talk about shit you know nothing about.”
It was the severity of those words, the hidden pain in his voice, that made me see the truth for what it was. Van was right. I wasn’t the only victim of my father’s cruelty.
We didn’t speak about it often, but when we did, I felt myself expel the anger inside me, float a while with the lightness in the air, and tonight, I needed it.
He handed me the blunt and I took it, licking my lips and holding it between my fingers. “Do you remember what you did to me? What he made you do to me?”
I put the smoke to my lips and breathed it in, closing my eyes, basking in the warm glow of my high.
With his back to the sofa, Van nodded. His voice was whisper soft. “Yes.”
I took another hit and my mind turned heady. I didn’t mean to ask what I did. “Do you want to do it again?”
Complete honesty. “No, but I think about it sometimes.”
Same. And I was disgusted with myself.
And this was why we were as close as we were. Nobody understood. Only we comprehended the confusion child sex abuse caused, the puzzlement of being groomed by a family member and not knowing it was happening, and finally, the heartbreaking experience of occasionally experiencing pleasure at the hands of somebody you shouldn’t.
Of course, we weren’t to blame. We didn’t know any better. We were just kids, and the person we were meant to trust betrayed us. He betrayed us all.
No wonder we were as fucked up as we were.
“Do you want children?”
Van scoffed. “Fuck, no.”
Fair enough. Only one of my brothers had a child, and he stayed as far away from that child as possible, scared to mess him up as much as we had been.
“I do,” I revealed, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I did anyways.”
He leant back and the back of his head touched my
shoulder. “Then you’ll have kids, Ting-a-Ling. No biggie.”
I ran my fingers through his hair fondly, and we returned to a comfortable silence.
No. It wasn’t meant to be.
As much as it saddened me, children weren’t for me.
And I would just have to live with the bitter jealousy that she got the child that was by all intents and purposes, mine.
Chapter Four
Lexi
I was in the kitchen when someone knocked at the front door. Molly put down the wooden spoon she was using to stir the pasta sauce and wiped her hands on a tea towel. “I’ll get it.”
God, she was a good girl. I was grateful to have her in my home, in my life. I hoped she knew how much I appreciated her. Lord knows, I reminded her as often as I could.
The second I heard the door open, Molly uttered an amused, “Geez, you look like shit. Long flight?”
And I had to quell the urge to squeak from excitement. Rushing forward in my Pikachu slippers, I saw him and threw my arms up, beaming, “You’re home!”
Happy was scowling at Molly. “Ease up, lil bit.” Then he came forward, sparing a tired smile. “Hey, beautiful.” He was slow to wrap his arms around me, and when he did, I felt the weight of him settle on me, squeezing me tight. My hands came up to grip the back of his jacket, and I held him as firm as he did me. Rubbing my back, he pulled away but only slightly to look down at me through smiling eyes. “How you doing?”
I looked up into his weary face and my smile fell. “Are you okay?”
With his sigh, he closed his eyes, and his thick lashes looked remarkably long against his cheeks. After a moment, he ran a hand down his face and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” Then he forced another smile. “I want to hear about you. How’s my boy?”
Something didn’t seem right. Happy had been away for a week, and that was a long time for us. Usually a day or two didn’t go by without us seeing each other. At least once a week, he, Nikki, and Dave came by for dinner. I was curious as to why he seemed so glum.
I jerked my chin at him, softening my smile. “Why don’t you see for yourself? He’s been asking about you.”
Happy’s smile widened before he kissed my cheek. “Be right back.” Before he went to A.J.’s room, he pulled something out of his jacket pocket and took it with him down the hall.
And then I heard the little monster exclaim, “Uncle Happy!”
This was followed by laughter and muted conversation. Molly and I exchanged an amused glance before getting back to our assigned tasks. We were having a full house tonight, and that meant lots of food, lots of conversation, and lots of laughter. On the menu was spaghetti and meatballs, and I made this knowing it was Happy’s favorite.
A.J. rushed out of his room holding something bulky in his hand. “Look what Uncle Happy got me!”
He held out the Grim Reaper themed Matryoshka doll and I huffed out a laugh. What a morbid gift. Unfortunately, after inheriting quite a few of his father’s things, A.J. now had a fascination with skeletons. His most prized possession in the world was Twitch’s skull-and-crossbones cufflinks. There was a while where he’d take them everywhere with him.
“Oh, honey. That’s so—” My eyes widened as I struggled to find the word. “—cool.”
Molly came over, eyeing the nesting dolls with avid interest. “That’s awesome, little dude.” She gently cuffed him on the chin, smiling. “That looks hand painted. I’ll bet it’s the only one like it. Lucky.”
A.J. looked overjoyed at the news and went over to the couch to open it up and explore the macabre present. It took me a while to notice Happy hadn’t emerged from A.J.’s room. When I made it to the open doorway and saw Happy lying on A.J.’s small single bed, his face soft with sleep, I smiled, but my eye caught something sticking out of my son’s underwear drawer.
Gently pulling it open, I took out the cool metal and blinked.
It was a watch.
A very male, very bulky watch. One I’d never seen before.
Frowning down at it, I held the heavy silver in my hands and turned it over, examining the beautiful timepiece. “Where did this come from?”
I didn’t hear A.J. come up behind me. He spoke quietly. “It’s Dad’s.” I twisted back to look at him, and the little monster smiled a toothy grin. “I’m holding onto it until he comes back for it.”
My eyes closed and I spun around, swallowing hard through the sadness his words evoked.
Damn it, A.J.
Daddy is not coming back.
I fought the thickness in my throat.
Stop.
My heart began to ache painfully.
Please... you’re killing me, baby.
Without a word, I shoved the watch back into the drawer, shut it with a light slam, then took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Quiet, honey. Let Uncle Happy nap.” As I moved past him, I put a gentle hand to his back and led him back to the kitchen.
How long was this going to go on?
I needed advice, and tonight, surrounded by friends, was probably the best place to get it.
Not long after, the sound of the lock turning let me know we had another guest. When Nikki rushed in, wide-eyed and elated, she completely ignored us and said, “Where is he?”
With a roll of my eyes, I pointed down the hall, and with a swoosh of her long, red hair, she went looking for her man. The moment she looked in the room and saw his sleeping form, her expression went from excited to sad. She put a gentle hand to her heart and walked into the room. I heard her gently wake Happy. “Aw. You’re sleepy.”
Then a just woken Happy. “Hey, baby. I missed you.”
I smiled at their cutesy banter and went back to preparing the garlic bread. About a minute later, the front door opened again, and Dave strolled through looking a little more than excited. “Where is he?”
Was everyone that walked into this house going to ignore me?
With a soft laugh, I pointed down the hall, and Dave jumped, clicked his heels, then strode down the hall just as Nikki and Happy emerged, holding hands. Dave barely spared Nikki a glance, patting her on the head, forcing an indignant sound out of her and making Happy chuckle. Dave looked down the hall, making sure A.J. was out of sight before he leaned into Happy and pressed his lips to the other man’s.
I tried not to watch, but it was hard. It was still strange to me, their arrangement, but somehow they made it work.
Happy, Nikki, and Dave lived as a ménage, in which Happy was shared by both Nikki and Dave. And surprisingly enough, it wasn’t Happy who suggested it. It was Nikki.
Speaking of the devil, she looked on happily as the two men shared a sweet moment.
Happy gripped the back of Dave’s neck, bringing him deeper into the kiss before pulling back and smiling. “Hey.”
“I missed you,” uttered Dave quietly.
Happy sighed. “I missed you too.” He pulled Nikki into his side. “Both of you.” When he uttered a husky, “I can’t wait to get home tonight,” my brows arched.
Something told me they weren’t going to play a nice game of Parcheesi.
Ugh. Lucky.
I missed sex.
That was the hardest thing about being a single parent. I didn’t trust any man enough to let them near my son, and I wasn’t into the casual fling. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’d been on dates, and they were nice guys.
Maybe that was the problem.
Nice didn’t seem to do anything for me anymore. Being with Twitch had changed me and my—ahem—preferences. Once, Nikki told me she’d met a Dom I might like, and I literally flung myself across the table to throw a hand over her mouth while I shushed her frantically.
Why didn’t anyone understand?
I had my one in a million. I’d never find anyone like him again. And, to be honest, I didn’t want to.
There was only one infuriatingly bossy, hot as hell, downright maddening Twitch.
And it wasn’t like I was completely sexless. I
still had a hand and my memories, and, for now, that was enough. I did miss that physical connection and craved to be touched at times, but that was life.
Truth was, I lived and part of me died. I mourned my loss and often times mourned it still. But moving on?
Yeah right.
God knows I’ve tried.
A slight, achy melancholy filled me.
It was hard to forget somebody who gave you so much to remember.
At the very moment the oven dinged, the doorbell rang, and I called out, “Coming!” When I opened it, Julius and Ana stood there, and I threw the door open, smiling openly. “Hey, you guys. Come on in. I hope you’re hungry.”
Ana came forward, hugging me gently, and I was touched at how happy she looked to see me. Julius was patting his belly cheerfully. “Baby girl, when am I not hungry?”
I made a face of agreement, nodding lightly. “This is true.”
He grinned down at me before enveloping me in his arms, and I took all the love he gave. Truth was, I was kind of an affection whore. Always had been. Whenever someone needed a hug, I was the first to throw myself on them. Sometimes, I wondered if I was a little too handsy with some people. I knew how situations could be misread. I was uber cautious about touching men, but with Happy and Julius, I accepted all they gave because I didn’t have anyone else and I loved them dearly.
Whenever I was having a general home issue or needed some brawn, they were the first people I called.
They were kind of my “house husbands.”
I was thankful for their partners being so understanding in that sense. I seemed to borrow them all the time.
We all sat down at my barely big enough eight-seater table. Molly and I placed the food in the center of the tabletop, and I contentedly watched everyone dig in.
It was nice to share a meal with family and friends.
Nikki scooped out some spaghetti for the little monster, and when she held out her cheek, A.J. smacked a kiss to it before forking a huge amount of pasta into his mouth. Nikki smiled down at her godson. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Happy stole a piece of garlic bread off Ana’s plate, and I watched in amusement as she glared at him, smacking his knuckles with her fork. He pulled away, looking sore and shaking out his hand. And Julius chuckled, scooping a meatball onto his plate. “Don’t steal her food, man. She don’t like that. Only I’m allowed to do that.”