Page 13

Azura

T his kid is a little devil in disguise, and I like it. With Katara having no interest in mischief and the quintuplets too big to obey, I miss them at this age.

“So, you can’t cook?” I look at the tomato and cucumber sandwiches that he is gawking at disdainfully.

“Yes, I can. I made these.” I push the plate towards him, proud of my accomplishment. No, I can’t cook. All I can make is nachos, and that’s in the microwave.

“Oh. We don’t call this cooking,” he adds.

“Well, can you cook?”

“I’m five.”

“And?”

“I’m too young to cook.” I smile, reaching over and tugging his cheek.

“Yeah, sure, but you are old enough to judge. Let me tell you something, making a sandwich is an art. Look, I had to margarine the bread slices perfectly, then spread the cucumbers that were cut into equally sized thin slices, we then added some sliced cheese before finishing with perfect thin slices of tomato.”

“The tomato is thick, and the cucumber slices aren’t equal sizes,” Corrado mumbles, looking at the sandwich sadly. “I thought I’d have a home-cooked meal today.” My heart squeezes at his pitiful tone.

“I will have Rosaline prepare you your favourite meal, Corrado,” Winona, the woman who has been minding him, offers.

“No, thank you. I will have the lumpy sandwich.”

“You really are your father’s son,” I grumble. Prudish Rossis.

I smile despite myself, watching the child bite into the sandwich. See? I can do this. In a few years, it will be me and my pup, and I will make them sandwiches. My smile fades as I wonder if I’ll be enough, but then I shake the thought away. I have Mama, Dad, Liam, and Raven. I’ll be okay. I have to be…

“Are you alright?” Winona asks. I smile and nod.

“After we eat, what will we do next?” Corrado asks.

“I can take him to his room if you like,” Winona offers.

“No, he can keep me company, I don’t mind.”

When I return to my apartment, the bag of sewing supplies I had asked for was outside. I guess I will create a voodoo doll tonight, and this little cutie can help me.

“His dad isn’t back, right?” I ask once we have eaten, and I sent Corrado to set the stuff up on the table.

“No. Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all. I just don’t want him to worry or anything.” I am a little uneasy. Have I done the wrong thing by inviting him like this?

“I mind him on the nights he is out. He will be back after midnight. It’s nice to see Corrado having fun.” Winona smiles, watching Corrado take the things out of the bag and put them on the table. She is a pretty woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with blonde hair and brown eyes. “Don’t worry. The Alpha may be an intimidating man, but I will tell him Corrado wanted to spend time with you. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

I’m sure he won’t.

“Well, if he doesn’t ask, then we don’t need to mention it,” I suggest lightly, pouring two glasses of milk for Corrado and me. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any tea bags or anything. I don’t drink hot drinks.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’m not thirsty. The sandwich was rather nice. I will wash up whilst you and Corrado… knit?”

“Not exactly knitting…” I smile, winking at her as I walk over to the table, placing the tray of milk and biscuits down before plopping down. A wave of nausea washes over me, and I take a steady breath before I pick up the stack of fabric squares.

“Okay, so we are going to make dolls, all right?”

“Dolls? I don’t want to make a doll,” He scrunches up his nose, and I chuckle.

“We are going to make cool dolls,” I say, taking up a light blue fabric. “So, we will sew this like this… and stuff it with wool… then we will create two legs…. Feet… look, we even have dark colours; we can make a pirate doll?” I suggest, offering him a cookie.

“Oh, I see! Can we have a robber doll!?”

“Perfect, and I even have black and white striped fabric for the torso!” I wave the fabric square, and he smiles, now a lot more excited…

An hour and many pricked fingers for me later, we are done. There on the table lie two round-bellied cloth dolls. One has a striped body with black legs and feet and a strip across the eyes where we had attached two black buttons. The other has a creamy peach fabric face and arms, with a black body and grey bottoms. I am now drawing some black doodles onto the arms.

“What are you doing, Azura?” He asks, leaning over curiously.

“Oh, I’m giving him tattoos,” I tell him as we both munch on the chocolate chip cookies.

“Oh, like Daddy! He even has blue eyes like Daddy!”

“No, no, it’s not your daddy. It’s just someone I know,” I say, putting the doll aside. I will finish it later.

“Corrado, shall we head to bed now? It’s late.” Winona asks him.

“No, Winnie, five more minutes?”

“It’s bedtime,” she persists gently.

“Six more minutes... okay, then, seven more minutes?” He barters as she continues to shake her head.

“Well, I’m going to sleep now, too, so how about you go to bed?” I offer gently. “We can hang out tomorrow if you are a good boy and go straight to bed?” He seems to ponder it over before nodding.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” It isn’t like I have anything to do whilst I am here.

He stands up, giving me a hug before he runs off, taking hold of Winona’s hand, his robber doll in the other. I smile, getting up and walking them to the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Azura. Thank you for spending some time with him.”

“You, too, Winnie. Nice meeting you.”

She smiles and waves as Corrado gives me a smile. I close the door and go back to finishing off my Leo doll. Now all I need is something that belongs to him, then when it is done, I will staple gun his ass, or better yet, his dick. It will look just like his precious Jacob’s Ladder.

I begin cleaning up the sewing stuff. It is a relief that Winona had cleaned the kitchen for me. Although I had just made sandwiches, I had created quite a mess. I am now gathering up the needles, trying to find the lid of the thread picker.

Earlier, Corrado had referred to Nikki by her name… which means she isn’t his mom. So, who is? My stomach churns at the scary déjà vu the entire situation is giving me. Two children from two women… one a mate… a mate that he doesn’t want…

Stop it, Azura. You are not Indigo.

“Where have you gone?” I murmur, bending down to look under the table for the lid when the doorbell rings. I frown, glancing over at it and stand up. I wonder who that could be.

I pull the door open, only to see Leo standing there, dressed in a suit, his eyes blazing steely blue as he grabs me by my neck, making me gasp.

“Stay away from my son,” he growls threateningly, his hand around my neck painfully tight. “If you think that you can use a child to weave your way into my life, you’re fucking wrong.”

My eyes flash, and I ram the thread picker that I hold in my hand straight into his arm, making him let go of me, his eyes flashing. Taking advantage of his disbelief at what I have just done, I raise my hand and punch him hard, aiming for that pretty fuckboy face, but he is fast, dodging it, and I only manage to graze his jaw. Works for me.

“Don’t you ever manhandle me again,” I growl, my own eyes blazing silver and my heart thumping.

A cold smirk crosses his face, and in a flash, he has grabbed my arms, twisting them painfully behind my back before he spins me around and pushes me up against the wall. My first thought is for my baby, and I shift position, letting my shoulder take the impact.

“Then don’t come near my son,” he whispers menacingly in my ear. His scent and his touch send my heart into a frenzy, but it does nothing to soften the pain that squeezes my heart at what he is insinuating.

“I wouldn’t use a child to get something I want,” I shoot back quietly. If that was the case, I’m carrying your child in me… that alone would have given me leverage if I wanted.

“Your actions say otherwise,” he says, shoving me away. I turn back to him, my own anger blinding me.

“I don’t want you in my fucking life, Leo. As for the boy, he was lonely. If you were a decent parent, you would at least try to be around for him,” I growl, “and next time you fucking touch me, I will claw your eyes out. Do not test me.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he spits. I step closer, my heart beating.

“Don’t push me, Leo, because I do as I say, and I’m sure you don’t want this entire pack to know who I am,” I hiss. His eyes darken, and he clenches his jaw, fighting his anger.

“Stay away from him. He’s mine, and I don’t want a Westwood anywhere near him. You don’t belong here. The sooner you’re fucking gone, the better.” His words hurt, but I just stare at him challengingly, unblinkingly matching his glare.

“I can’t wait either,” I spit resentfully.

“At least we agree on one thing,” Leo’s icy reply comes. Grabbing the thread picker and ripping it from his arm, he tosses it onto the ground, our eyes meeting once. “You are a fucking psycho.” With that, he turns and storms off.

My heart is raging. I grab the bloody object from the ground before slamming the door shut. I toss it in the kitchen sink, trying to calm the intense storm inside of me. Staying here isn’t helping… maybe I should just leave. This baby’s safety worries me… what do I do? This is a bad idea…

Maybe I should just come clean to someone about everything… including what happened last year. I wonder if Judah will try to contact me soon; hopefully, he thinks I’m still wounded or dying somewhere. A girl can hope, right?

I run my hand through my hair. An evening that had started off pleasant and happy had been ruined by just a few words.

Dickface.