by Belle Aurora
We were so wrong.
The Dragon Queen had my son.
***
Ling
He was crying.
Oh, God, he cried, and it seemed like he would never stop. It went on for so long I wondered if he would ever just dry out. There was no way a child as small as he had stored so much fluid for the tears he cried were never ending.
He cried in the car.
He cried in the apartment.
He cried as I bathed him. As I dressed him. As I held him and rocked him and loved him.
He cried.
And it hurt so badly.
A small sigh escaped me.
So this was motherhood.
I kept my eye on him from a distance, and when he finally cried himself to sleep, I let out a shallow, shaking breath, sneaking closer and gently settling on top of the covers next to him. Running my hand through his hair, I watched him sleep a little while before I succumbed to the weight of my eyelids and drifted off.
Tomorrow would be a better day.
Fuck.
It had to be.
Chapter Forty
Ling
He slept as soundly as he could under the stressful circumstances I’d put him in, and I couldn’t have been prouder. Even though his brow was marred, he looked positively angelic. I smiled gently at this strong little boy and wondered how long it would take for him to finally warm to me. I wasn’t sure. It could be days, or months, or years. It didn’t matter. Once he saw my intentions weren’t to hurt him, he would succumb to me.
He would have to.
I had no need for him otherwise.
“Good morning, sweetie,” I uttered softly from his bedside.
His little body went rigid and my smile increased.
He was a weary little thing.
And when he opened his lids and peered up at me through sleep-glazed eyes, he stared at me a long moment before looking around the room. I saw the exact moment he realized what happened the day prior wasn’t a dream, and when it hit him, his lips parted and his sweet little face fell hard.
I clicked my tongue and sat down on the edge of the bed. “No crying, sweetie. Come now.” I held out my arms to him, but he didn’t come. Grinning, I let my arms drop. “Okay. You’re not a hugger. I get it. That’s okay.”
That was when he opened his mouth, and asked a quiet, “Where’s my mummy?”
Hmmm. Dilemmas.
The little dude seemed to be reluctant to let go of his whore of a mother.
That was okay. I could fix that.
I’d do anything to get to my goal.
I licked my lips, before stating, “Your mummy and daddy gave you to me as a gift.”
His brow furrowed as his bullshit meter went off. “No, they didn’t.”
Okay. He was smarter than I gave him credit for.
My eyes narrowed at his insubordinace. “Yes, they did.”
“No.” He sat up in bed and looked me in the eye with a look I’d only ever seen his father make. It was pure, unrivalled anger. “You’re a liar.”
My lips stretched into a grin. “Is that so?” I leant in slowly and spoke calmly. “Then why haven’t they come to get you?”
It was a question he couldn’t answer, and the way his face void of emotion told me he was thinking about it. What he uttered next made my spine stiffen.
“You’re the bad lady.”
Ballsy little shit, he was.
I fucking loved it.
I expected him to be like Lexi, seeing as she brought him up, but the truth was, he was exactly like Twitch. And I could use that, manipulate that, mold him into the heir I deserved.
“I’m not a bad lady,” I lied softly, reaching out for him, but he shuffled away from my touch, looking meaner than a junkyard dog with fleas.
Nice.
This tiny little creature was definitely going to be a thorn in my side. An annoying little itch you couldn’t reach to scratch.
My mouth parted in a small gasp. That was it. That was what I was going to call him, my son.
“Itch,” I spoke into the silence of the room. “My little Itch.”
An ode to his father.
Yes. I smiled maternally at the little boy who looked like he wanted to shank me.
It was so strange. I already loved him. He was everything I thought he’d be and more. His attitude, his resilience, it was everything I needed to make him my successor.
Peering down at him warmly, my heart ached with joy with the comprehension that he was perfect. Just perfect.
Yes.
I loved him.
And I was not letting him go.
***
Twitch
Sleep never came that night, and when dawn broke, my eyes settled on the woman sitting at the edge of the bed in her nightie, staring blankly into the wall.
It killed me to see her like this.
I wondered if this was how she was when I left, and a whole new level of guilt settled over me to see this beautifully resilient woman looking broken and shallow, when her love ran so deep. I didn’t like it, and my only thought was to fix it and fix it fast.
My phone chimed at the very same time the doorbell rang. I slid off the bed, holding my cell in my hand, and as I passed my woman, I put a gentle hand to her shoulder.
Her lack of response was a bullet to my heart.
I answered my cell the second I stepped out of the room. “Yeah.”
“Fuck, Twitch. Fuck. I...” He paused momentarily. “I don’t know what to say.” Ethan Black’s tone conveyed he already knew about my son. He sighed. “Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.”
The doorbell rang a second time, and I made my way over, throwing the door open. Sergeant Gabriel Blanco stood outside, coffee in hand, and I didn’t bother with niceties. With a jerk of my chin, he got the message and stepped inside as I responded to the head of the FBI. “I appreciate it, Black, but—” I told him the way it was. “—you can’t help me, man.”
My time spent working with this man was short, but in that brief time, we got to know each other. And Black read between the lines. “Listen to me now. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Motherfucker.
My grip on my cell tightened. “Don’t do anything stupid? That’s your advice?” My anger spiked. “This psycho fucking bitch took my son out from under my fuckin’ nose, caused the car he was in to careen off the goddamn road, and you want me to stay calm, Black?” I didn’t give a fuck if Blanco was in my house listening in; I said what I said. “The second I get my hands on that mutt, she’s dog food, Black.” My tone low, my voice trembled with fury. “You best believe I’mma make that happen by my own hands should I get the opportunity, and I fuckin’ hope I do, because nothing would make me happier than tearing that red-lipped viper limb from limb. And when I’m done with her, y’all are gonna need dental records to identify her.” My hands shook. “I’mma cut off her motherfuckin’ head and drink from her pretty little skull.”
“Twitch,” Ethan Black warned.
But I wasn’t having it. “I got shit to do.” I hung up then turned to Gabe Blanco. “Ya didn’t hear nothin’, you get me?”
Hated to admit it, but Blanco was a decent guy. He lifted his to-go cup into the air, and muttered, “What’s that? Sorry. I couldn’t hear you over drinking this delicious coffee.”
Yeah. Damned right he couldn’t. “Any news?”
“Got an anonymous tip last night to check a warehouse down south.” I straightened, but he went on. “Had a few of my guys check it out before dawn. And yes, she dumped her car there, but there was no sign of her or your son. I’m sorry.”
My brow knitted in thought. “Where’d you say this warehouse was again?”
On edge and ready to choke a bitch, we pulled up to the house. He met me out front while Gabe sat in the car.
Jerking his chin toward Gabe, Tama uttered, “That the cop?”
“Yeah, and he’s gonna stay right there.” I looked back at the car
. “You upload the footage?”
“Amoho’s going through it right now.”
Without a word, he turned and walked back inside. I took it as an open invitation and followed, but when the door shut behind me, my eyes caught the little woman down the hall and my steps faltered.
Molly’s entire body stiffened at the sight of me. She held my gaze for a fleeting moment before she lowered her head and limped into a room, quietly closing the door behind her. And Tama stood there, observing, watching me watch her.
He motioned toward the opposite room, and I headed on in, keeping my eyes on the door Molly had disappeared behind.
She signed herself out of the hospital before any of us had the chance to check on her. Her sister, Lenka, arrived at the house not long after, taking Molly’s things and loading them into the back of her car. And that was it.
Molly was out.
Out of our home. Out of sight. Out of mind.
Just out.
I didn’t expect it of her, the weak-ass shit she was pulling. She wasn’t a bitch-ass punk.
“How’s she doing?” I asked quietly.
Tama blinked at me before frowning. He didn’t answer a long while. “How do you think she’s doing?” He held me with a stare. “Doesn’t care a lot, my Molly, but she loves your son. Swore to protect him till the death. And now—” He turned to face the closed door. “—she wishes she was dead.”
A rough sigh left me as I scratched at the stubble at my neck.
Guilt was a needy bitch.
Guilt demanded it be acknowledged. I knew this. I felt this. It was harsh and, yeah, at first I blamed Molly for what happened, but the truth was, Molly had nothing on Ling, and pitting the two against each other would have been a futile fight. Ling would always remain victor in that battle, no matter the circumstances.
Her guilt was on me, and I wore it like a noose around my neck, choking me.
“Got something,” the large Maori man at the computer uttered. He peered into the screen, squinting. “Yep. It’s her all right.”
I took the few steps over and looked down at the footage. Ling stepped out of her Mercedes, went to the passenger door, and opened it. It took a while for my son to step out, but when he did, a breath of relief filled me. I surveyed Ling and the way she held her hand out to my son.
It was odd, the way she was acting.
And when A.J. refused to take her hand, my stomach dropped.
Jesus, bud. Don’t give her an excuse to hurt you.
But Ling just got to her knees, spoke to him a second, and then wrapped her arms around my son, holding him tight as if she had the fuckin’ right.
The infuriation was hard to breathe through. My woman was at home a fuckin’ mess, and Ling was taking the affection meant for Lexi.
Fuckin’ bitch.
I was going to rip her apart. Yeah. I was going to kill her with my bare hands.
“It’s a white or silver SUV,” Amoho muttered, watching Ling drive away with my son. “I can’t make it all out, but I think I can get partial plates.”
This guy was a computer wizard.
Feeling a rush of fondness for him, I slapped my hands down onto his shoulders and squeezed hard. “Do it, man.” Standing back, I took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
Tama stood there, imposing like a goddamn tiki statue, his face drawn, his lips pulled down. “Want to help you get your boy back.”
He meant it. Not because he was with Molly, but because he knew if we didn’t get my son back soon, one of my people would soon be sent to identify his body. And even psychopaths like us didn’t condone violence against children.
“Appreciate that.” I looked over at Amoho. “Gonna need a copy of that footage.”
Amoho spun on his chair and threw me a small, white USB. I caught it with ease, as he spoke, “We get anything new, we’ll call.”
Before I stepped out, Tama stopped me. “Look. About Molly—”
I cut the big guy off with, “What she’s doing is not helping me.” The words were harsh but spoken softly. “You tell her that she once told me she’d do anything to protect my son, and I’m holding her to that, because, right now, he needs all the help he can get.”
And with that, I left.
***
Lexi
Never before had I realized how cruel the mind could be.
Take now, for instance.
Against all wishes, I wondered what my son’s last thoughts would be before Ling took his life.
Would he remember the times we stayed up late together and watched movies, laughing as he tried to catch the popcorn I threw into his mouth? Or would his last reflections of me be about the times he begged me to believe him about his father’s return and how his awful mother refused to see reason?
I wasn’t crying, not anymore, but the tears continued to fall, trailing my cheeks and dripping down my neck.
My mind was stuck on the morose.
I only hoped that when the time came, she made it quick for him.
My brow lowered as I heard my own thoughts.
Listen to me.
What the hell was I doing?
Absolutely nothing.
Sitting here, feeling sorry for myself while Ling was doing God knows what with my son. It was appalling.
What kind of mother did that make me?
It made me a mother who was not worthy of her son.
Feeling a newfound energy source derived from grief, I stood and changed clothes. I went to my nightstand and slid out the bottom drawer, revealing the small metal box hidden underneath. Keying in the code, it opened, and I retrieved the .22 caliber Glock Julius had given me for my own protection. It was loaded and ready to go. Before I left my room, I looked at myself in the mirror.
My face looked sunken. A solid blackness sat under my red eyes. My lips were pale and dry, and a constant frown creased my brows.
I was an absolute mess.
But I didn’t have time to dwell. I grabbed my purse, and Luna looked up from her laptop when I stepped out of my room. She must have seen the steely look in my eyes, because she stood slowly. “Where are you going, Lexi?”
No deception here. “I’m going to see Pav.”
Luna put her hands up in a placating gesture. “No need. Fern and Thiago are already there and they’re negotiating for his help. They’ll be back soon, and I’m sure we’ll have an army at our disposal.” She paused, looking me up and down. “I know this is hard for you, but we’re doing everything we can to get your son back and get him back safely.”
I didn’t want to scoff the way I did. It sort of just escaped. “No offense, Luna, but you can’t possibly understand—” My voice broke. “—what this is like.” My lips trembled. “And I need to do something, not just sit here like a damsel in distress and wait for someone to help rescue me from this situation.” I sniffed, blinking back tears. “So I’m going.”
She shocked me when she sat back down, keeping her eyes on me. “Okay.”
Wait. Was this a trick?
“Okay,” I said, pulling my purse up my shoulder and turning slowly to leave. Before I hit the door, I spun back and uttered, “Come with me?”
Luna’s face softened as she stood once more. “If you want.”
I did want that, because I was furious at Luka Pavlovic and I did not trust myself alone with him should his answer be yet another refusal.
Shockingly enough, Luka let me into his home without an argument, so what happened when he answered the front door was on him.
Pulling out my pistol, I held it steady and pointed it at the center of his chest.
“Lexi,” Luna muttered in caution, but I was a woman on a mission.
Pav didn’t look too fazed when he uttered a tired-sounding, “What are doing, Alexa?”
To prove my seriousness, I held the gun away from him and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
Neither of us flinched, but the sound was deafening.
Thiago and Fern
rushed out, guns at the ready, but when they both saw me, they lowered their weapons and Thiago took a small step forward. “Alexa, don’t do this.”
My nostrils flaring as I took in severe breaths through my nose, I peered at him for a millisecond before resting my wild eyes back on Luka. “You’re going to help me find my son, Luka.” I took a step forward and pressed the barrel of the gun to his pec. He put his hands up sluggishly and took a step back. With every step I took, he moved back into his home, and I spoke all the while. “You are a coward,” I told him scathingly. “And for the first time in my life, I’m not.” Another step. “I’m not scared anymore. I’m just angry.” My vision blurred with tears of fury. “Because a queen in your domain decided she hates me enough to take my son from me, and that’s on you—” I looked him over disgustedly. “—your highness.”
Fern piped in, “Lexi, I don’t like him either, but you can’t do this, gatita.”
Ignoring all the warning signs, I stepped closer. My voice shook. “I begged for your help.” My lips trembled. “Begged for it. And you refused. Every second he’s gone is a second I won’t get back, and I’m not prepared to lose anymore than what I already have.” Taking a small step away from him, I lifted my arm, aiming at his head. “So I’m not asking anymore, Luka. Now, I’m demanding.” My arm began to shake. “You will help us.”
Luka Pavlovic looked me deep in the eyes. He spoke quietly. “Put the gun down, little one.”
The hand holding the gun shook almost as uncontrollably as my voice did. “No. Not until you say you’ll help me.” Jaw tight, my tone lowered, weakened. “I need your help.”
That was when Fern spoke. “Lexi, please. Put the gun down.” She paused a long moment, before she revealed, “He thinks he knows where she is.”
At that, I spun to face her. “What?”
Luka took the opportunity I’d given him, lifting my arm high, taking the gun out of reach, stepping into my body, and holding my quivering form close. When I blinked up at him through my tears, he surprised me by sparing a small smile for the person who just threatened a king in his own demesne. “You think I’d let anything happen to that little boy?” It was hard to take in a full breath. “That boy spent a week in my home. Ate from my table. Called me his uncle.” My body slumped at the very same moment my breath hitched. Luka ran a gentle hand down my cheek and shook his head. “I protect my family, Alexa. And whether I like it or not, you’re family.”