by Belle Aurora
He was just over six feet tall and weighed around four hundred and forty pounds. He was intimidation ensnared. With his shaved head revealing his tattooed scalp, he was downright scary. Which was why I chose him for this task.
“Kids, man.” He shook his head, looking mildly agitated. “Don’t dig this bullying bullshit.”
A bubble of laughter tried to claw its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down. It was funny that a man who regularly beat the shit out of people didn’t like bullies.
Did Hemi realize he was a bully?
I’d say no, because Hemi wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.
When I heard the Hummer open, then shut again, I peered around Hemi to whomever it was he brought with him. I had to look hard at the second guy, but when he got close enough, my mouth parted in surprise.
Oh, no, Hemi, you incompetent fuck.
“Tama.” His name came out breathy and choked.
“Molly,” was all he uttered, rough and short.
My heart started to pound.
He didn’t have to say anything more. I mean, really, what else could he say?
His disinterest said it all.
If Hemi was daunting, Tama was straight up frightening.
“Oh, shit,” Hemi muttered, but what really came out was, “Oh, shut.” He scratched at his head. “I’m thinkin’ that maybe Tama wasn’t the best person to bring with me today, Moll.”
My eyes drifted away from the new addition to Tama’s face. He’d finally done it and got his Tā moko. His nose, chin, and neck were tattooed in a traditional Maori design. I wonder what he’d done to earn it.
Once upon a time, I would’ve had the honor to ask. As it were, I’d lost that right. I’d lost it a while back.
I blinked at Hemi, sarcasm oozing from my statement. “You think?”
Not picking up on that sarcasm, he nodded once before going on a mindless semi-rant. “Well, yeah, because of your guys’ history and all, you know? Like when you—”
I cut him off, speaking far too quickly and almost yelling my response, “I know, Hemi. I was there.”
Tama was a beautiful man. He wore his long black hair traditionally, up high in a top-knot. He once told me a lifetime ago the style he wore it in was called Tiki.
My ethnicity was part Maori, part Aboriginal. As a child, I thought I’d have the best of both worlds, but the rude awakening was neither group wanted me for their own. When I asked why, I was told that as I got older, my loyalties would be skewed. What they hadn’t known was by not accepting me, they—by definition—were against me. And I’d never forget it.
If one person made me want to forget my bruised ego, it was Tama.
Tama, who took me into his home, his bed, and his heart. He vouched for me, fought for me, and I betrayed him.
Everyone had one, that one person who taught them never to trust their heart. I was Tama’s. I heard he was never the same after I left, and that played on me something fierce.
Fuck, you’re an idiot.
I was. No denying it.
A long breath escaped me and I ran a hand down my face before acknowledging the man in front of me. “Tama, you don’t have to stay—”
He cut me off with a barked laugh. When he sobered, he leant down into my face and spoke quietly but viciously, “I’m not here for you.”
Of course he wasn’t.
So why did that statement hurt me as much as it did?
“I know that,” I said, trying not to let my frown show. Checking my watch quickly, I told them both, “We’ve got eight minutes before the bell goes.”
An awkward silence fell over us. Hemi, of course, was completely oblivious to it, playing a game on his phone. Minutes passed before Tama lost his cool indifference.
“From cutthroat to nanny.” Tama smirked, and he meant for it to be as mean as it came across. “How the mighty fall, hey?”
A moment’s pause.
“If you knew that little boy....” My heart wrenched.
Asshole.
I didn’t need to explain myself to him.
My eyes slid down to the ground and I held them there. I wasn’t daring enough to look at Tama, whose eyes were boring holes into me. Those laser beams prepared to blind me with violent, volatile rage. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him or the affect he had on me, so like the coward I was, I pretended to ignore him.
After the longest eight minutes of my life, the bell sounded and we got into position. Tama stood tall, his arms crossed over his chest, and Hemi mirrored him. I stood between the two giants, pulled my sunglasses down from my forehead, and leant my shoulder against Hemi’s massive frame.
We were an alarming sight. It was almost a shame to waste such a picture on a bunch of five-year-olds.
It didn’t escape my notice that A.J. was the first to leave his classroom, head down, face solemn, rushing toward the gate we occupied.
Oh, sweetheart. What has she done to you?
I wouldn’t run to him. I wouldn’t comfort him, not until we were out of view of everyone else. I wasn’t here to play. This was serious shit.
He looked up a second, then did a double-take. He stood there a long moment, long enough for his classmates to gather and pause in their tracks as they openly stared at us. Some kids’ mouths dropped. I noticed Zoe Braemore was one of those kids.
A.J.’s eyes widened comically, and his reaction to these scary-looking dudes surrounding me was priceless.
He smiled.
The little shit.
God, I loved him. He was fearless where it counted. A warrior at heart.
Picking up pace, he started to run toward us, his school bag slapping his back harshly with every stride. When he reached us, I held out my hand to him but was rudely interrupted when Tama snatched up my ward, lifting him high, clutching him to his side. And Tama glared at him.
It wasn’t personal. Tama just hated everyone. Yet even though I knew this, my inner mum had me on the defensive. I knew Tama would never hurt a child, but when it came to this child, I would never give anyone the chance.
A.J. lost his smile and stared back at Tama. A fierce protectiveness lit inside me, even wilder than before, and just as I went to warn Tama to put him down or lose a limb, A.J. reached out with little hands and touched his tiny fingertips to Tama’s tattooed nose. He spoke and my heart ached.
“My daddy has tattoos. Lots of them. Not on his face though. When I’m older, I’m getting them too, just like him.” He pawed Tama’s face without fear, looking closely at the artwork there. “Did it hurt?”
I watched the ice melt in Tama’s eyes. The sternness on his face, however, remained unchanged. “Yeah.”
Hemi stood unmoving. Without looking at A.J., he said loudly, “Hey, A.J., know what I hate?”
A.J. twisted his torso to look back at Hemi. He shook his head. “No.”
“Bullies.” Hemi’s mouth twisted. “Hate me some bullies, bruh.”
Okay then.
It took every bit of strength I had to not laugh.
I’d planned on being discreet, but Hemi didn’t know how to spell the word, let alone depict it.
Zoe’s eyes widened as she tried to walk past. I placed my hand on her little shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. I leant down in her cute little face, brushing a gentle hand over her curled pigtails. I spoke, but it wasn’t to Zoe.
“Is this her, A.J.? Your friend Zoe?”
She looked over at Tama and her eyes wandered over to Hemi before snapping back to me.
Zoe Braemore looked ready to denounce her own name.
“That’s Zoe.” I didn’t look back at my boy, but I could hear the curl of his lip. “But we aren’t friends.”
“Can you help me, Zoe?” The little girl nodded, slowly, wide-eyed. I leant in and looked left to right before coming in close as if the favor I was about to ask was some big secret. “A.J.’s cousins here heard someone might be upsetting him.”
I looked up at Tama. He was scowling a
t the little shit.
“As you can see,” I went on, “when A.J. is upset, his cousins are too.” I lowered my voice. “Can you do me a favor?”
She nodded without question. Good girl.
“I want you to keep an eye on A.J. and tell me if you see anyone picking on him.” I stood tall and peeked over at Hemi before looking back to Zoe. “Hemi over there... he hates bullies. Don’t you, Hemi?”
Hemi turned his head meaningfully and nodded. He kept his gaze on the small child and I watched all the color drain out of Zoe’s face.
My shot had just found its mark.
Bull’s-eye.
And my work here was done.
I smiled widely, but it didn’t reach my eyes. It must’ve been less than comforting because Zoe took a small step back. “I knew I could count on you. Thanks, Zoe. Have a nice day, won’t you, sweetie?” As she walked away, I waved at her, while muttering under my breath, “Strike one, you little cunt.”
By quarter past three, all the children were collected by their parents and almost everyone had dispersed. Everyone but us. Once we were alone, Hemi’s stance slackened and he went to stand in front of Tama who hadn’t released his hold on A.J.
Hemi’s chubby hand came out and A.J. met him halfway. They shook hands and Hemi introduced himself. “Name’s Hemi, little bruh.” He jerked his chin to the sullen man holding him. “That’s Tama.”
A.J.’s face turned thoughtful. And what he said next killed me.
“Molly knew a man called Tama.”
Inside my head, a slow, drawn-out appeal. “No, A.J. Nooo.”
“Said he was scary. The scariest.” A.J. looked to Hemi. “She loved him.” He looked over at me. “Didn’t you, Molly?” Then he turned to face Tama, his expression gloomy. “But he died. And that made Molly sad.”
Bile rose up in my throat, a solid burning in my chest.
A.J., not knowing what he’d just done, reached for me. Numb to the core, I took him into my arms without question. He rested his cheek on my shoulder and hugged me around the neck too tightly. “I don’t like when Molly’s sad.”
Hemi looked from me to Tama, then back again and, thankfully, completely out of character, did not say what was on his mind before making his way back to the Hummer.
Tama, on the other hand, held his jaw tight. He didn’t take his eyes off me. I hoped he saw the apology I held in mine.
I was certain he did because after a long pause, Tama spoke. His voice was deceptively calm. “You love Miss Molly, hey?”
A.J. nodded at my shoulder.
Tama trained his eyes on me. He spoke without emotion, “Kid’s a terrible judge of character.”
My voice quiet, I agreed, “I know.”
Because he was right. I didn’t deserve what A.J. gave me. I didn’t deserve what Lexi trusted me with.
I was an awful person and, one day, I’d get mine.
Chapter Nine
Twitch
When she walked into my house, Manda looked tired. “We need to talk.”
Yeah. It had been brewing too long. We needed to hash this shit out. It was already awkward as fuck. I didn’t need it playing on my mind.
She came to sit on the small sofa, and I followed her into the room, leaning against the wall as she began. “I heard things about you. Bad things. And I chose to find out for myself, to see who you were before I judged. So, brother mine,” she said, “who exactly are you?”
That was a tough question.
I didn’t really know anymore.
I clicked my tongue and gently massaged my temple. “Mandy, please. Give me a break. It’s been a shitty couple of days. Besides, we’ve been through this.” I looked at her pointedly. “You think Vander’s a fucking saint?”
At my words, she shook her head. “I know my husband, thank you very much, but he’s never tried to make me believe he was something he wasn’t. And you hurt that girl.” She looked disappointed. “Vander’s the sweetest man in the world.” At my open scoffing, she amended, “To me, he is. He’s never been knowingly mean to me. He’s always openly loved me. He’s never raised a hand to me because he knows I’d leave him.”
She wasn’t going to leave this alone. My sister had been a perpetual pain in my ass since the day I met her, involving herself with me, inserting herself into my life whenever possible, and even though she shit me more often than not, it was kind of nice to have someone who cared.
I dragged a chair over from the dining room table, swung it around, and sat on it backwards. “Do you know who I was back then?” At her meaningful stare, I muttered, “Of course you do.” I ran my tongue along my teeth. “You’ve met Lexi, so you know her brand of sweetness is rare, a fucking treasure.” At her nod, I laid it on her. “I wanted to see how far I could go before I broke her.”
“Why?”
My sister wasn’t impressed and I didn’t give a fuck. I just wanted her to understand. “Because I wanted her by my fucking side, Manda, for always.” God, I was getting pissed. “You think I could allow someone like her to be my queen? She’s nothing like you, babe. You’ve seen shit your entire life, whether it was from your pops—”
She cut in with, “He’s your father too.”
Whatever. He was nothing to me. “Or your brother’s bullshit, and now you’re dealing with it all over again through Vander. You know this life, what it all entails. Lexi didn’t. She doesn’t. I wanted to see if she had what it took to deal, to cope, because last thing I needed was to have my fucking woman run out on me, saying this is too much. So I pushed, and I pushed hard.”
Reluctantly, I saw Manda was beginning to understand.
“She’s it, Mandy. No shit. The second I had her, I felt a fucking lightning bolt hit me so hard it brought my corpse back to life.” Thinking of my woman was testing. Lexi was life. “I was a sinner, and she was my only prayer. A deity. The only goddess I worshipped.” I took a slight pause. “Still do.”
And, by God, it was the honest fucking truth.
I saw my sister’s face soften and I rolled my eyes. “So, the good news is I am exactly who I say I am.”
Manda frowned. “And the bad news?”
“The bad news is—” I grinned. “—I am exactly who I say I am.”
Guilty as charged.
And my sister snuffled out a laugh. “Jesus, you’re a dick sometimes.”
I was. I wouldn’t apologize for it.
“Are we good?” I asked, scratching absently at the scruff at my jawline, because I would hate to have to lose my sister so soon after finding her, but I would give her up in a heartbeat if it cost me Lexi.
My sister looked at me a long while before she sighed. “Yeah, I guess so, but I swear to God, Tony, if you hurt her again....” She trailed off.
I met my sister’s uneasy gaze. “I can’t promise I won’t. This is all new to me, being locked down to one woman, being a father. I’m bound to fuck up a time or two.” Or ten. I puffed out a weary breath. “But I’ll try not to.”
That was the best I could give.
“Okay,” she said, standing. “Give me a hug. I have to go meet my nephew for a play date.”
Affection was something I was working on. It didn’t come naturally to me, but it did to Manda, so I would give her that for putting up with my curt ass. Standing tall, I held out my arms to her, curling my fingers in a “bring it in” motion, and she smiled up at me as she stepped into my arms.
I hugged my little sister tightly, and she squeezed me back in return. When it felt like too much, I released her, but she held on to me. Not sure what to do, I lifted a hand awkwardly and started to pat her shoulder, and she laughed into my chest. “Tell me you are not patting me like a dog, boy.”
I sighed loudly, a smile tugging at my lips. Fuck, she was an asshole for calling me out on my discomfiture. She was lucky I was starting to love her.
Pushing her away playfully, I watched her stumble as she laughed at me and I pointed to the door. “Get the fuck outta here.�
� This only made my sister laugh harder, but she did leave.
What a shithead.
***
Ling
Aslan pulled away from me. He was restless, and I didn’t know why, but he was making me just as fidgety. The moment his lips left mine, I glowered at him. “What is up with you tonight?”
He looked at me a long time before he adjusted me on his lap, snaking his arms around my body and holding me flush against him. His face was close, and although this whole warmth thing was new to me, I kind of liked it. “What are we doing here, baby?
We were being stupid. We were pretty much guaranteeing our families’ hatred lived on. It was almost as if we wanted the world to know how selfish and dumb we really were because even though we were hiding, we weren’t exactly pulling all the stops on that front.
This was our third rendezvous at the city apartment I’d specifically rented to meet him at. I was an idiot and sure to get caught, but when it came to Aslan, I didn’t really think about the consequences, nor did I care. Besides, so far, he refused to fuck me, so really, what were we doing? Not much.
But, truth was, if my brothers found out, they’d kill me. Quite literally.
I decided on honesty. “We’re fucking up in a real big way.”
When he laughed softly, looking at me the way he was looking at me, with an attachment in his eyes that was aimed at me, I felt part of the ice around my heart crack as it sluggishly thawed.
“Come to bed with me,” I leant in and spoke against his lips, grinding into his hard cock.
But he shook his head, smiling tenderly. “No.”
He was killing me here. I was so fucking horny I was ready to dry-hump his leg if he’d only let me.
Oh my God. Listen to you.
If he’d let me?
Who was I, and what the hell happened to The Dragon Queen?
I did not like the person I was when I was with this man. He made me feel weak, and that would not do. I was my own person. I didn’t rely on anyone, didn’t need anyone. I was happily unattached. Fuck him.
“Fine,” I uttered blasé-like. “I guess I’ll just go out and find a nice young cock to suck.” When his eyes flashed, I went on. “Maybe I’ll let him make out with my pussy a while, and when he makes me come—” I pressed my tits into him. “—I’ll show him gratitude by calling him Daddy. They like that, you know?” As I went to stand, Aslan gripped my wrist hard enough to bruise, and I smirked, liking where this was going. “Changed your mind, Az?”