The Untouchables(37)

Only my wife could talk about castration and sound like an angel.

I watched her skeptically. “You’re just going to back down and stay out of danger?”

“Depends on your definition of danger,” she stated.

“Melody…”

“Don’t ‘Melody’ me. You’re not my father. I’m letting you take over the hunt for Aviela; I will help if you need me. But don’t need me. I know myself well enough to know that if I get involved, I will want to take over. I will want to hunt her down myself. But I’m not becoming a housewife either. If we’ve learned anything, it’s that Aviela cannot be underestimated. You can’t focus on the business and her at the same time—”

“So, you want control of the drugs?” I cut her off. If this were anyone else, I would have snapped their neck.

“Liam…”

“Don’t ‘Liam’ me,” I said. “You want me to hunt down your mother while you’re off making drug deals with the rest of the country?” She was definitely on drugs.

“It’s safer and you know it,” she whispered.

I could only shake my head at her. Only in our world would selling drugs be safer than dealing with family.

“What would be safer is you spending the day at malls and charity events while I handle this…” She squeezed my hand so tightly I felt my knuckles crack. “Ouch. Damn, baby.”

“This is the deal, Liam. Take it or leave it,” she demanded.

Always the demanding bitch. She was lucky I fucking loved her. I don’t know why, but like a fool, I did.

Grabbing her good arm, I glared down at her.

“You’re not in any position to make deals, love. You’re pregnant and you’re not putting yourself in danger. You are not your mother, and you wouldn’t harm our child by letting the same thing happen twice. How would it look, having my pregnant wife dealing smack to junkies and dealers that would put a bullet in their mother’s head just to get a line?”

Why couldn’t she just spend nine months watching re-runs and painting her nails in bed?

She frowned and winced. “Liam, you’re hurting me.”

“Shit, love. I’m sor—” The moment I let go of her arm, she smacked me over the head.

“I’ve been pregnant for seven weeks. It didn’t affect my ability to handle junkies. I get it, you’re nervous, so am I. But we have so much work to do. You cannot do it all alone, nor should you have to,” Melody said. “Handle Aviela for me. Focus on that. I can handle everything else. You know I can, and if you tell me not to, I will only ignore you. So why are you fighting me on this? It’s a good plan. It’s the only plan we have right now. Liam, I’m not asking permission. I own half of our family. I’m doing this, or we deal with both situations.”

I hated this.

I didn’t want this. I wanted her out of the business. Not forever. Just until…just until I knew they were both safe. Luckily, before I could reply, my phone beeped.

“I have to go,” I told her, kissing her quickly before grabbing my jacket from the chair.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To find out more about my mistress.” The look in her eyes as she sat up told me this would only last about a minute before she was prying the details out of me.

“I’m only taking Fedel, the rest of the men are here to protect you…” I paused looking over once more. I didn’t want to leave her. “To protect the both of you.”

“And who’s going to protect them?” She glared, lying back down.

Shaking my head, I walked toward the door.

“Love you,” I said.

She sighed. “I love you too, okay? Happy? I love you. Now leave before you mess with any more of my emotions.”





MELODY

When he left I stared up at the ceiling rubbing my flat stomach. My flat stomach with a kid inside of it. A kid with really bad timing. Our kid; my and Liam’s own kid.

I was going to be a mother…if it made it. If I didn’t get it killed again, I was going to be a mother; a mother who wouldn’t shoot her child at point blank range.

“I never wanted you. I had orders. I followed them, and you were a side effect. No hard feelings.”

I could hear her voice—the voice I so desperately craved as a child—and now I wished she was dead. I felt the pressure building up in the back of my throat, and I tried to push it back down. But I couldn’t, and the sob rippled through me before the tears came.

I was not a crier. This was not me. But it hurt. Everything hurt. It hurt so badly and I just wanted to forget everything.