Raw (46 page)

Spotting something on his hands, I double take and choke a laugh in my throat before I ask, “Sweetie, what happened to your hands?”

Looking up, he smiles, and I catch my second laugh at the gap made by the missing top two front teeth.

I know he’s my child but, by
God
, he is adorable.

He points to the backs of his hands and explains, “I’m like Daddy.”

Checking his hands again, I look closely at the marker drawings all over his hands.

No one ever accused him of not loving his daddy.

Speaking of which, we need to get up.

The two of us live alone in a three bedroom home on the outskirts of Sydney.

Living with Twitch is not an option.
 

I quit my job as a caseworker and now proudly wear the title of stay at home mom to my four-and-a-half year old, black-haired, brown-eyed baby boy.

And he’s so much like Twitch it’s scary.

Same looks. Same attitude. Same
everything
.

Sometimes I wonder if this kid is even a little bit
mine
.

Knowing Twitch, his sperm probably got to my womb and decided he was going to do the whole baby thing on its own. The stubbornness must be in the genes, because AJ has it too.

Being a single mom isn’t always easy, but when I look at my son, I couldn’t picture my life without him. He’s completely worth it. And he means everything to me.

Placing one last kiss on his head, I tell him, “C’mon, sweetie. Time to get ready. We’re seeing your dad today.”

He jumps up and shouts, “Woohoo!” Then takes off like a rocket down the hall to the bathroom. I hear the water start and I know he’s brushing what’s left of his loose teeth.

Chuckling to myself, I get out of bed, stretch, and start getting ready.

AJ runs down the hall wearing a tee and underwear; looking panicked, he asks, “What do I wear?”

Dipping my chin, I hold back my laughter.

Twitch.

Total Twitch-ism right there. The day he starts telling people to ‘Dress nice’, I’ll have a heart attack.

Knowing he wants to dress nicely to see his dad, I tell him, “How about the black jeans and your Spiderman sweatshirt?”

My son looks up at me wide-eyed in awe as if I’m a genius, and without a word, runs back to his room. I hear things being thrown around and I can’t stop it.

I quietly laugh while shaking my head.

He comes back out all dressed and I say, “There! You look great, honey.” And he does.

Then I spot his hands still messed up with marker, I suggest, “Maybe we should wash those hands, though.”

AJ gasps dramatically, “Mum, I have to show dad!”

And that settles it. How can I argue with that?

I quickly dress and call out, “C’mon, AJ. Let’s go.”

He follows me out the door and we’re off.

AJ tells me to wait at my normal spot while he talks to Twitch, loud and animated.

Pretending to read, I sit on the bench and watch as AJ shows him his ‘tattoos’ and some of his new toys. His new favorite being a Buzz Lightyear doll he got just last week.

AJ plays spaceman for a little while, then he sits in front of his dad and talks his ear off some more.

When a half-hour passes, my chest squeezes.

Reluctantly, I approach them and ask AJ, “Hey bud, you mind if I speak to your dad alone for a little while?”

AJ doesn’t look happy, but he mutters, “Okay.”

I tell him, “Stay where I can see you, baby.”

He moves to sit at the bench where I normally wait, and I turn to Twitch.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” I ask.

But, as per usual, the shiny white headstone doesn’t respond.

And my heart aches.

The day I tried to leave and Twitch got shot, he spent a week in an induced coma before finally fading away.

And it was hard.

It’s always hard losing someone you love. But this was harder.

It was harder because we fought.

It was harder because I told him Michael’s death was all his fault.

It was harder because I’d just found out I was pregnant.

It was also harder because I had two deaths to mourn.

Michael
and
Twitch.

I took leave from work indefinitely, but decided in the end that I am now too damaged to want to help other damaged people. It was selfish, but I had to do what was best for me.

Happy, Nikki, and Dave are all still a huge part of our lives. They have to be. I didn’t leave them a choice.
 

They’re AJ’s godparents.

We get together as often as we can, which is usually once a week. AJ revels in the stories that his Uncle Happy tells him about his dad.

A month after he passed, Ling showed up at my door. We stared at each other a long time. She looked down at the small swell of my belly before breaking down. I held her and we mourned together, joined in our love for Twitch. Before she left, she handed me an envelope, and before I opened it, I knew what it was.

Lo and behold, a check for a seven-figure number was inside. So I cashed it, and when AJ was born, I put most of it in a trust fund for him, which he can access when he’s twenty-one. I bought our home with the money, and some of it I keep for us to live off. Not that it’s needed. Every month, a more-than-decent amount of money is transferred into my account. The amount would be enough for AJ and me to live off of quite comfortably. I’ve asked Happy to stop doing it. He confided it wasn’t him, and upon further detective work, the source of the money is untraceable.

AJ carries Twitch’s name.

My baby’s full name is Antonio Falco Jr.

The check was not a surprise to me. I always knew Twitch would look after me. Not always the way I wanted.

He always did the right thing the wrong way.

But he loved me. In his own way. I know he did.

The thing is, I’m still in love with him.

Looking down at the marble gravestone, the bridge of my nose tingles.

Lip quivering, I choke out, “It never gets any easier, babe. Someday, I want to come here and leave without crying.” The tears fall freely. “But I can’t. It’s too hard.” I sniffle. “I still feel you. I know it’s crazy, but I feel you watching me. It brings me comfort. Even if it is just in my head. Sometimes I can’t stop myself from looking for you. I would give anything to see that hood.”

Wiping at my cheeks, I take a deep breath, inhale, and exhale slowly. “I love you. Your son loves you.” My voice trembles, “I hope you’re up there feeling the love. Because we still feel you down here. AJ is proud you’re his daddy. And so am I.” Walking backwards, I whisper, “You’re forever my hero. Happy birthday, Twitch.”

I walk over to my son, take him by the hand, and together, we make our way to our car. AJ breaks free and runs back to Twitch. Digging into his pockets, he removes his little fists from his pants and lays the M&M’s on the gleaming headstone before running back to me, smiling. He reaches me panting, and wrapping an arm around him, I lean down and kiss his sweet-smelling head. Reaching up, he takes my hand once more. A familiar feeling washes over me.
 

My heart aches as I walk away from the only man I’ve ever loved.

I watch from my usual spot, the binoculars helping me see as clearly as possible.
 

AJ’s hands covered in marker makes me cry like a fucking baby.

Seeing Lexi lose it doesn’t help either.
 

That woman should be my wife.
 

I’m jealous of Happy. Jealous that he gets to spend time with my family when I’m nothing but a shadow.

But my son deserves a good life, and if that means not having me be part of it, then so be it.

So I have to watch him grow up from afar.

It fucking sucks, but I love him enough to know he’s better off without me.
 

Turning, I walk away knowing that by becoming dead, I did the unselfish thing.

For once in my life.

I’ll come for them.

Redemption is at hand. And I call him AJ.

Hi guys,

Thank you for reading RAW.
 

You can help me an awful lot by leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads.

Thanks again. Your love and support mean everything to me.

Belle xx