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.