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Twitch’s eyes smiled. “We’re good, angel.”

“Daddy,” the little voice croaked. He slid off Molly’s lap, and then the little monster was running for him, his arms outstretched.

Twitch grinned as he lifted his son into his arms and hugged him tightly, cradling the back of his head to him. “Hey, buddy,” he spoke softly into his hair, and he rocked him gently.

The sight was one of the many that made my heart swell. I would treasure moments like this in my memory for all eternity.

It was then that I noticed the older man at his back, and when I snuggled into Tony’s side, I smiled kindly at the silver-haired man I’d met only an hour ago. “Hello again.”

Ethan Black spared a polite smile for me. “How’s he doing?”

A.J. rested his head onto his father’s shoulder and hugged him around the neck.

My heart wasn’t in my uncertain reply. “He’s getting there.”

The truth was A.J. was understandably petrified of being separated from us. Physically, he was healing. Mentally... I wasn’t so sure. He woke in the middle of the night and crawled into bed with us more often than not, and we let him. He smiled less than he used to, laughed less too. His five-year-old eyes looked weary and aged, and those eyes assessed their surroundings carefully, searching for danger in places where there was none. It worried me that part of my son would never completely heal. He would never be the carefree child he had been. I knew this.

How could he be?

Ling had broken my son, and while she had the reprieve of death, A.J. would have to live with the fear she’d instilled for the rest of his life.

I was so tired. All I wanted to do was go home and heal as a family.

I turned to Twitch and ran a hand down my son’s back. “Can we go home now, please?”

“Ah,” Ethan cut in before Twitch could speak. “Before you do, I need a word. It’s important.” And when Ethan gently touched A.J.’s hair and spoke directly to our son, I knew something was up. “Son, I need to have a word with your parents. You think you could give us a minute?”

A.J. lifted his head, looking restless and fretful. He spoke carefully. “No, thank you.” It came out as polite as he could manage it, but I heard the fear in his voice. He wasn’t chancing another bout of separation. He wanted to be near us, and I was thankful that Ethan understood that.

“We’re not going anywhere, son,” Ethan stated. “I’m not taking them anywhere. We’re going to stay right here, okay? I just need to talk to them a minute.”

Twitch watched the turmoil form on A.J.’s face, and from the way his jaw tightened, he did not like it. “It’s okay, bud. We’re gonna be right here.”

We gave A.J. the time he needed, and when Molly came forward, she held out her hand to the little monster. “C’mon, boo. There are some cool toys over there. Let’s play a while.”

Twitch lowered him to the ground, and although it took him a while, A.J. took Molly’s hand and allowed her to lead him to the toy corner. He pretended to play as he kept his eyes on us, and it broke my already fractured heart.

Ethan swept his arm out toward the small sofa. “Please, sit.”

Oh, no.

Something was wrong.

Jesus. I wanted to cry. When would it end?

We sat in silence, and as Ethan pulled out a chair to sit in front of us, Twitch muttered, “Why are you here, Black?”

His tone indicated that he had just realized the man’s presence may not have been the godsend we initially thought it.

Ethan rested his elbows on his parted knees and clasped his hands together. When he said, “What do you want first, the good news or the bad news?” my heart stuttered.

It was the way he said it, like there really was no good news, that made Twitch sigh loudly and put his head in his hands, letting out a low groan.

My lips moved. “The good news.”

Ethan nodded lightly. “Okay. The good news is you have both been cleared of any wrongdoing in the death of Ling Nguyen.”

My nose bunched. “We didn’t do anything wrong. She stole our son. Drugged him, Mr. Black.” I sat forward and reiterated, “We did nothing wrong.”

“I know that,” stated Ethan in a most placating way that had me sitting back again.

Twitch removed his hands from his exhausted face and sat tall. “And the bad news?”

“Well,” Ethan began. “ASIO have had eyes on you since your return, unsurprisingly, and up until your little situation with Ling Nguyen, they were happy to...”

What was this?

I didn’t understand.

And when I peered at Twitch in confusion, he rolled his eyes, letting out a frustrated, “Fuck me, Ethan. Just say it already!”

Ethan said it. “You’re being deported, Twitch.”

Excuse me?

The look on Twitch’s face said he was just as shocked at the news as I was.

“What?” I uttered in disbelief.

Ethan sat back in the chair. “Australia is, unfortunately, very sick of the shit that seems to follow Antonio Falco, I’m afraid.”

Twitch’s face changed, settled, as though he’d just figured something out. “That’s why you’re here.” He snuffled out a humorless laugh. “You’re my escort.”

Ethan didn’t bother mincing words. “Correct.”

Twitch’s cruel smirk made my stomach ache. “They think I’mma go quietly because you’re here? Fuck me, they thought wrong.” He stood so quickly, so violent-like, that I let out a short gasp. Putting a hand to my chest, I peered up into his wild eyes. “This is bullshit.” He paced then gritted his teeth, and growled, “If they want a war, they fuckin’ got one, Black. Mark my words.” His smile turned sly. “Think they’re gonna separate me from my woman. Fuck that. I’ll unleash hell on this backwater town before I ever let anyone take me away from my family.”

This was my husband. This was who he was, and I wanted all of him.

The good. The bad. The psycho.

Twitch was a man of good intentions, stitched together with barbed wire and fueled by raw fury. And, as time went on, I came to realize I did not want him to change because the broken parts of him were the parts I treasured wholeheartedly.

A decision was made.

“Sit down,” I said.

His eyes snapped down at me in confusion.

“Sit down,” I repeated inflexibly.

He watched me a long moment before he slowly sat by my side, and when I spoke, I spoke carefully, in a way I hoped he would understand where I was coming from. “The first time you left me, I felt like it rained every single day in my heart. And the clouds blocked out the sun. For a long time, I saw nothing but gray.” I took in a deep breath and let out a slow exhale. “I don’t want that again. I will never be okay with being separated from yo

u. Where you go, I follow.” I looked down at his hands and slipped my small one into his. “We belong together.”

When he finally found his voice, he asked, “What are you sayin’, baby?”

“I’m saying—” My unsure eyes met his. “—that maybe it’s time for a change.” My sad gaze slid over to the little monster playing mechanically in the corner without enjoyment or happiness. “Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Maybe this move will be a good thing for all of us.”

He looked as though I was crazy. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” I muttered with a short nod.

“A.J. goes to a great school,” he countered.

“We’ll find another great school for him to go to in the States.”

“He has friends here, baby.”

“He’ll make new friends.”

He looked perplexed. “You have a life here.”

I shook my head. “It’s not a life worth living without you.”

And I meant that.

In all the time I’d known him, I had never seen Antonio Falco’s face soften in the way it did then. “Baby,” he uttered gently, and when he pulled me to him, I lifted my face to his as he cupped my cheek and kissed me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. It was then I realized this decision was a no-brainer.

Living life without Twitch was a torture I was not willing to subject myself to.

Ethan gave us our moment, and when we turned to face him again, his eyes smiled over at Twitch and, rather baffling, muttered, “Worth it.”

“So,” Twitch asked, “how does this work?”

“How long do we have?” I added.

Ethan snuffled a laugh out of his nose. “They want Twitch on the next flight out.” At the look of pure incredulity on both our faces, he quickly added, “But I can work on them. I’d safely say you have five or six days. A week at most.”

“A week?” I repeated.

Was that enough time to pack up our entire life?


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