by Nora Ash
“For the six-hundred and twentieth time, Mum, I’m not going back to my old job. I wasn’t happy there. And I very much doubt unemployment causes nausea.” I pushed my bowl of half-eaten cereal away and got up from my seat at my parents’ breakfast bar to clean it up. I was feeling pretty terrible, and I really wasn’t in the mood to argue about my future yet again. It was hard enough to try and figure out what the hell I was going to do about my life now, when everything I’d thought I wanted was a career that no longer meant anything to me. Having to fend off my concerned parents on top didn’t exactly help matters. Nor did the persistent nausea I’d been waking up with for the past few days.
“I’m just concerned about you, Audrey,” my mother said as she watched me with tented eyebrows. “We both are. And your sister, too. You were so happy in that job—and you were working on a promotion. And then you just up and leave with that… that young man, only to come back… It’s like you’re a different person. What happened to my sweet Audrey? The one who was so focused on her career and knew what she wanted in life?”
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, focusing myself. This had been a long time coming, and it was about time that she heard it.
“I’m not a different person, Mum. I’m exactly who I’ve always been. It’s just that I was never really allowed to be me. I was supposed to be this mini-version of Mel, and I tried. I really, really tried. But I wasn’t happy, not at all. I hated that job, I hated having to suck up to superiors who never valued my inputs and constantly overlooked me when it was time for promotions.
“I don’t know what I want to do with my life, but I know it’s not going to be anything like it was before. I’m not going to be like that. This is me—the real me. I’m not perfect, and I probably won’t be much to show off at the golf club, but I hope I’m good enough. At least, I’m good enough for me.” I gave my dumbfounded mother a smile and kissed her cheek before I turned to rinse out the bowl and put it in the dishwasher.
When I went to leave the kitchen, she called after me. “Audrey.”
I turned, hand on the door frame.
“You’ll always be good enough for me. Always.”
I clung to that, and the love in her eyes as she said it, when later that evening I sat on the bathroom floor staring at a pregnancy test.
A positive pregnancy test.
41
Louis
Three weeks after we took over London, things were finally starting to run smoothly. Or as smoothly as it can when you’re dealing with criminals and thugs.
Thankfully, the brutality of our takeover seemed to have brought the other Families to heel. What took the longest was weeding out those of our own men we could still trust from the ones who’d been loyal to our father.
Wesley was the biggest problem. Even our stepmother accepted the death of her husband meekly enough and got on the train to Scotland we put her on without a complaint, probably thanks to the several million we wired to her bank account. She might have been our father’s wife, but none of us had any beef with her. She’d mostly been a quiet, shadowy background figure since the day she married into the family, obviously having no interest in her husband’s kids but no ill will toward us either.
Wesley, however…
The list of his crimes committed on behalf of our father was long, and none of us felt particularly comfortable knowing he was still breathing London air. But he had killed him, in the end, and that counted for something.
When we presented him with a one-way ticket to the States and told him what would happen if he ever returned to British soil, he accepted it without a word. Liam and I made sure he got on the plane—and that was the last loose end from our father’s reign tied up.
William Steel’s presence had been cleansed from the city, his body buried in a cemetery across town from where our mother rested, and only his memory remained to haunt us. But as deep as the scars he’d inflicted upon us were, and as unrelenting a stain as he’d put on our name, it was still so much easier to breathe now.
Except it wasn’t.
I could see it on Marcus’ and Blaine’s faces; the relief that they no longer had to look over their shoulder, that their families were safe. And on Isaac’s, when ransacking our father’s files brought up the evidence we needed to have a judge open his case again.
But for me, there was no relief. Not really. Despite our victory, despite all of us being as safe as you could be when ruling a major city’s underworld, I felt nothing but emptiness. Emptiness, and a dull pain in my chest every time I looked at my twin.
I knew he felt it, too. He didn’t say anything, neither of us did, but we both knew. Seeing Blaine and Marcus reuniting with their wives, congratulating Evelyn on the small baby bump clearly visible on her stomach when Marcus proudly announced her pregnancy… it hurt so fucking much I could hardly breathe.
I’d never have that. I’d never be whole—never be happy. How could I, when she was gone?
He felt it, too, Liam. My other half, and the reason I couldn’t go to her and tell her she was mine, whether she thought so or not. Neither of us felt relief at our father’s passing because there was no relief to be had without Audrey. For either of us.
“We can’t keep doing this.”
I glanced at Liam, who was still staring straight ahead at the road as he drove our Jeep through the busy London traffic back from Heathrow.
“We can’t keep going on as if she was never there,” he continued, confirming that his thoughts, too, had been of Audrey.
“I know,” I said.
“What do we do, Louis?” It wasn’t often that my twin sounded so lost. The last time I could remember was at our mother’s funeral.
“What is there to do?” I clenched my fist and stared out the passenger side window, not wanting to see the pain on his face. “She was right. There is no way this can end well—if she chooses one of us, the other will…” Wither and die. I couldn’t quite make myself say those words out loud, but we both knew them to be true. If one of us were with her, the other would be alone. Forever. I didn’t know much about love, but I did know a woman like Audrey only came around once in a lifetime.
This way, at least we still had each other. We might be in for a lifetime of bitter regret, but at least we’d still be alive.
“I know if she chose me, and you… I couldn’t bear to watch that, Liam. No more than I could bear to be the one she didn’t pick. Could you?”
“No.”
The silence spread between us again, blanketing us in the same misery we’d so desperately tried to avoid by burying ourselves in everything that came after our takeover of London. But Wesley was the last thread. There were no more places to hide.
“Louis.”
I glanced over at my twin again. Something in his voice, a note of… excitement, perhaps, piqued my interest enough to pull me out of my wallowing.
“What if… what if she didn’t have to choose?” he said. He was clutching the steering wheel. Yeah, something had perked him right up.
I frowned at him, trying to work out what sort of devious plan was cooking in his brain. “What do you mean?”
“We could both be with her. Share her. That way she doesn’t have to choose, and she’d never get between us. Well, at least not figuratively speaking.”
“You mean…” It took my brain a couple of seconds longer to wrap around what he was suggesting, but my heart rate picked up as I tried to picture what that’d be like.
“It’d be like in the bothy. Except I wouldn’t feel the urge to beat your stupid arse every time I see you.”
A flash of Audrey, moaning between us like when we’d both fucked her in that bothy, made my cock stir. I glanced at Liam again, and knew he was having similar thoughts, judging by the smirk playing across his lips.
As many times as we’d fucked the same girl, we’d never been with one at the same time. Apart from Audrey. The idea had never even crossed my mind, before her. And after… it’d kinda been
in the cards that it was a one-time deal, something that just happened in the heat of the moment.
I’d never considered making it a regular occurrence, never mind sharing her in more ways than just physically. And yet… It would solve everything, wouldn’t it? We’d both get to be with her, without ever losing each other.
Perhaps society wouldn’t approve, but when had I ever given any fucks about what society thought anyway?
Could I share my wife with Liam?
I kept waiting for that twang of discomfort the thought of willingly sharing the love of my life with my brother should have brought, but it never came. I’d shared everything with him since the day I was born. Audrey was the first thing I hadn’t, until that afternoon in the bothy. It’d seemed so natural then, and the more I thought about it, the more perfect the idea of the three of us as a permanent unit seemed. In hindsight, it was the obvious solution. It’d always been me and him against the world. And Audrey belonged with us. Both of us.
“D’you think she’ll agree to it?” I asked, turning more fully toward my twin.
“Probably not,” he said with a grin. “But as long as we’re both on board, I’m sure we can find a way to, ah, convince her.”
Audrey’s parents’ house was exactly as stuffy upper-middle class as I’d expected. We’d gone to her flat first, but the angry old biddy across the hall had informed us that Miss Waits no longer lived there, and could we take our hooligan-selves off the property immediately, or she’d call the police.
So Liam had driven us to her parents’ house in a typical suburban neighborhood with typical, suburban garden and typical, suburban neighbors who peered out their windows when we walked up the path to knock on the door.
A couple of moments later, the door opened and revealed a small, slim woman in her fifties. The neutral look of inquiry on her face changed the second her eyes fell on us, turning pinched with disapproval. “Yes?”
If voices could freeze, we’d have both been ginger icicles.
“We’re looking for Audrey, Mrs. Waits,” Liam said, sounding more polite than I’d ever heard before. I turned to glance at him, just to make sure he hadn’t been replaced by a some body snatcher or something.
“I think it’s best if you leave,” the woman said. “Now.”
I placed a hand on the door as she tried to close it on us. “We need to speak with Audrey.”
“You’ve done enough damage to my daughter,” she snapped, and for such a small woman who obviously spent most of her life wearing pastels and a polite smile, the fire in her eyes was mildly impressive. “Leave, or I’m calling the police!”
Well, damn. Guess Audrey had told her parents we were the reason she’d disappeared on them.
Before either of us could respond, an achingly familiar voice called out from within the house, “Mum? Who’s at the door?”
My stomach knotted with excitement and that aching, hollow feeling I’d carried around with me since the day Audrey left us. I’d recognize her voice anywhere.
“It’s nothing, honey, just go rest,” her mother called over her shoulder, but to no avail. The door was opened a little wider, and then she was there, standing next to her mother, a look of surprise—and pain—on her face.
“Oh.”
“Audrey, we need to talk,” Liam said, sounding every ounce as desperate as I felt at the sight of her pretty face.
“Please, just for a few minutes,” I added, even though I had no intention of ever leaving her side again. “It’s important.”
Her mother—still looking like she was about to erupt like a damn volcano—opened her mouth, undoubtedly to turn us away. But Audrey placed her hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mum. They have a right to know.”
Mrs. Waits hesitated, shooting daggers at us before she turned to her daughter. “Are you sure?”
Audrey gave her a small smile. “Yeah, it’s fine. Could we have some tea in the conservatory, please?”
Despite what the woman obviously thought of us, manners won out in the end. She gave a clipped nod and stalked off to the kitchen.
“Sure she won’t put rat poison in it?” Liam asked with a hesitant look after her mother.
Audrey huffed, an amused sound, and pushed the door all the way open. “Come in.”
We followed her through the house decorated in cream and beige into a large conservatory overlooking the back garden. Audrey closed the french doors behind us and gestured for us to sit on the cushioned wicker sofa. She took a seat herself in the matching chair on the other side of the glass table.
For the longest while we simply sat and looked at each other in silence.
It wasn’t until I let myself study her pretty face more carefully that I realized something was off. Her skin was paler than normal, and a little gray, and there were dark circles under her eyes. The hollows of her cheeks far more pronounced than they’d been even when she was living off fish and canned beans in Wales.
Sick, mind-numbing fear sunk into the pit of my gut when I recalled what she’d told her mum: They have a right to know.
“Are you sick?” It came out as a hoarse whisper, my vocal cords tightening with a kind of panic I hadn’t felt before. I couldn’t lose her. We couldn’t lose her—not now, after everything we’d been through. It wasn’t fucking fair, it—
“No.” She straightened up and took a deep breath. “No, I’m not sick. I—”
The French doors banged open, and her mother stepped in balancing a tray with a tea pot, cups, sugar, and milk. She put it down on the coffee table with a huff and another glare at Liam and I before she exited the conservatory again, slamming the doors behind her.
“What on Earth did you tell that woman we did to you?” I asked as Audrey poured the tea for us.
She laughed, a small sound, but it was still beautiful. Soothing.
“And what’s wrong, love? Something’s obviously not right—you look…” Liam trailed off, and I shot him an amused look. He didn’t want to tell her she looked like shit.
“I know.” She rubbed her hands along her thighs, obviously nervous as she shot us both a glance. “I’ve had a hard time keeping food down lately.”
“Been to the doctor?” I asked, a worried frown making its way back on my face as I watched her. She was clearly not happy about what she was about to tell us, but she’d said she wasn’t sick. I clung to that as I stared at her, willing her to just fucking tell us what was wrong.
“Yeah.”
“And?” Liam asked. I could tell by the agitated energy emanating from him by my side that he was doing everything he could to rein himself in and let her tell us at her own pace, too.
“Remember that last afternoon? In the shack?”
I blinked at the subject change—and at her flushed cheeks.
“When we fucked?” Liam asked bluntly.
Her blush deepened. “Yes.”
“What about it?”
“God, how can you be so calm talking about that?” she asked. Clearly stalling.
“Love, are you going to tell us what’s up or do we have to force it out of you?” I asked, too nervous to let her get to the point at her own pace.
“I’m pregnant.” The words rushed out of her mouth, a mix of relief and anxiety on her taut face as she looked at us.
I stared blankly at her. Somewhere, a buzzing sound made its way into my conscience.
“I didn’t exactly get to pack birth control before we left for Wales, and if I recall correctly, no one thought about condoms. I guess it’s not the first thing one thinks of when fleeing for your life.” Audrey’s voice was higher pitched than normal, her hands rubbing up and down her knees as if she needed something to do with them to not fall apart.
“You’re pregnant?” Liam asked, sounding about as dumbfounded as I felt. “From Wales?”
“Well, yeah. It’s the only time we haven’t… used protection.” She refused to meet our eyes.
Pregnant. Our girl was pregnant. Flashes of Marcus’ p
roud smile as he showed off Evelyn’s baby bump made its way past the weird buzzing sound, drowning it out as my pulse picked up until it thundered in my ears. I could feel a slow smile of my own spread across my face, wide and tight as something that felt an awful lot like happiness bubbled in my gut.
Shit. I was going to be someone’s father. Some poor fucking kid was going to grow up with me and Liam as role models.
I kept waiting for the panic to set in, but it didn’t. Only this slow, creeping sense of complete and utter elation that slowly filled me up from the bottom of my toes up through my body until it finally reached my heart.
“Audrey—”
“I know!” she said, despair in her voice. “I know it’s fucked up. That this makes things a hundred times worse for you.”
“Audrey—”
“But I’m keeping it, so don’t even ask. If you want nothing to do with it, that’s your choice. I don’t want anything from you. This is my choice, and my baby.”
“Audrey!” Liam snapped, finally managing to force her eyes to lift to his. They flickered from him to me and back again, and I could see fear plain as day in those dark pools. But also grim determination.
“It’s not your baby,” I said as I got to my feet. By my side, Liam mirrored my movements. “It’s ours.”
“That’s the bloody problem, isn’t it!” she said, her voice definitely pitching toward hysterics. “I don’t know who of you… and there’s no way we’ll ever find out! Did you know a paternity test can’t distinguish between identical twins? There is literally no way of knowing which of you is the father to this child. So I absolve you of any responsibility toward it—you don’t have to go through that pain. We’ll be fine.”
“Do you really think that little of us?” Liam murmured as he stepped around the right side of the coffee table to be by her side.