Chapter 2
Chapter Two
GRAYSON
Prez, who Nadine has informed me is named Brody Ashford, follows me inside my apartment.
I only let him inside my space because we’re not going to have a sensitive conversation in the hall in front of my doorway, where all my neighbors could possibly overhear any part of it.
“Nice place,” he says as I close the door and lock it behind us.
I don’t reply to his comment.
Instead, I watch as he walks over to the couch.
He reaches out and slides his fingers across the back of my fawn leather cushions.
This couch I bought from a furniture store with my first big cut of the business after I set myself up in this condo.
Some of the guys bought expensive cars and clothes, but I wanted somewhere comfortable to rest after work.
I wanted a space that was mine, something that nobody could take away from me.
And it sounds stupid that a couch is what I chose, but it’s mine.
Continuing to take him in for a moment, I observe as he stops in the middle of the room and turns around to face me.
He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side as his eyes search mine before he speaks.
“What are your next steps?” he demands as if he has any say in what we do or how we do it.
As if he even has the fucking right to know.
“Next steps?” I ask.
Because he found me here, ready to demand some answers, and I’m not sure why exactly, I’m playing stupid as fuck.
I’m also not offering up any extra information.
And if he thinks he’s getting any details, he’s about to learn a hard truth.
He knows we have his sister’s back.
He knows we won’t let anything happen to Nadine, so what the fuck is he doing here?
If he’s questioning me or our ability to protect her, we’re gonna have a serious fucking problem.
“That fucker has been sniffing around my clubhouse. Now, normally, I would just end whoever did that shit on my own, but I can’t do that with this guy. The last thing I need is for ATF to open an investigation or inquiry of any kind when it comes to my dealings.”
Well then, that only changes things slightly.
It's not enough to have Brody join us at any meetings, but I’m sure he doesn’t want Landon Tate sniffing around his operation at all. And we don’t need this headache, either. No doubt, Brody’s doing more than just a little illegal activity at that clubhouse-slash-compound place he’s got.
Tilting my head to the side, I watch him for another moment before I speak. “We’ve changed tactics,” I state.
“Are his finances drained?” he asks.
“They are. Decimated, actually.”
I’ve only updated Brody once, and it was right when we decided that Nadine needed to be in a safe house. I also told him the plan for Landon Tate and how Lucille could take care of at least some of the issues from her computer—bleeding the fucker’s bank accounts locally and offshore as well, if he had them.
I’m not sure what else Brody thinks he’s entitled to here. I’m also fairly certain he isn’t going to like the way the plan has veered in a different direction.
“Offshore?” He sounds like a mixture of confused and impressed, all at the same time.
I chuckle. He somehow thinks we aren’t capable of this shit or something. We run a security firm, the best on the East Coast and possibly in the country, if I’m being honest—and maybe a little cocky. Which I am, but I also know it’s the fucking truth.
We also have his sister, who is an out-of-this-fucking-world hacker, along with Lucille. Together, they could probably rule the entire free world. None of us had any idea about Nadine’s skills, which she explained were something she’s always been really good at. Computers were a constant in the chaos of her childhood, and she has continued to dabble with them, which is a fucking great thing for us, although she kept it a secret for far longer than she should have.
“Handled unless he has something else or money somewhere else we don’t know about.”
“So how are you going to get this done? It’s been months,” he grunts. “I’m ready for it to be over and done with.”
I didn’t know I was on Brody Ashford’s fucking timeline. I don’t say that, but it’s exactly what I think and how I feel. But this man is much like me and my brothers. He’s used to being in control, being in charge, and it’s killing him that he’s not involved in the inner workings, especially since it involves Nadine.
“You won’t like it,” I state.
He snorts, crossing his arms over his chest and dipping his chin to connect his gaze to mine. “Enlighten me.”
Instead of telling Brody to fuck right off, which was my original intention for this conversation, I rock back on my heels and turn away from him, walking straight toward the kitchen, where I take a bottle of whiskey out of the freezer. It’s peanut-infused, and I’ve been saving it for something special. Not sure what, but it doesn’t matter.
I think today would be a good time to bust it out. After pouring us each a glass, I hand him one, then jerk my chin toward the living room. He narrows his eyes on me for a moment before he walks over to the couch and sinks down into the leather.
I do the same, choosing to sit in the chair beside the couch. We each turn to face one another, lift our drinks to our lips, and take a sip. “I’m waiting,” he says.
I let the liquid burn my throat for a moment, then close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh before shifting in my seat. I don’t necessarily feel like I owe him anything, but I have his sister under protection. And I want to fuck her. So, there’s that.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head a couple of times before I respond to him. “Unfortunately, it’s time to use Nadine as bait.”
Silence surrounds us. It’s palpable. Both of us take a sip of our whiskey as we wait. Arching a brow, I wait for his response. I’m not sure what he’s going to say. It could go several different ways.
One being that he tries to kill me for using Nadine as bait. The other is that he thinks it’s a good idea. That’s all the options we have going on at this point, but since I’m not sure how he’s going to react, I wait.
Then Brody lets out a snort, and his gaze searches mine before he shakes his head once. “Use my sister as bait?” he asks. “But then you nail this fucker to the wall.”
It’s a statement, not a question. We nail this fucker to the goddamn wall.
“That’s the plan. And he’s so fucking broke he won’t be able to hire an attorney.”
Brody lifts his drink to his lips again. I watch him, waiting. He’s mulling over my words, no doubt trying to decide how he feels about the fact that Nadine is going to be bait. I don’t tell him that I will protect her with my life and that I adore every fucking part of her.
He doesn’t need to know how I feel about her.
At least not yet.
Maybe eventually.
“I want him to bleed,” Brody states.
I do, too. But I don’t say that. “We need everything we can get on him as insurance.”
Brody sets the glass down on the side table and then rises to his feet. He stands in front of me, no doubt attempting to appear intimidating, but he doesn’t intimidate me in the slightest.
And if he knew anything about me, anything about the other men in Securus, he would know why that is—we are unintimidatable.
“Get it done, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
“Is that a threat?” I ask.
He snorts. “It’s a promise.”
“You’ll end up in prison,” I point out.
His lips curl up into a smile as he lets out a chuckle. “I will take a lifetime of prison as punishment for avenging the shit that motherfucker did to my sister.”
“Why now?” I ask.
He leans forward, his eyes focused on mine, and if I were a different person, I would be alarmed by the black gaze that meets mine.
The soullessness behind those eyes.
I’ve seen a lot of dead eyes, but this man gives no fucks what happens to him, which makes me think that Nadine has not told me everything there is to know about Landon Tate.
“Ain’t my shit to tell. But just know that he’s walked free for far too fucking long.”
And with that, he walks out of my condo. I don’t know when and where I’m going to see Brody Ashford again. Still, what I do know is that if we don’t get Landon Tate taken care of, he’s going to get in the middle of it and possibly intentionally or unintentionally fuck us over completely.
NADINE
Vaughn doesn’t stick around for too long after he drops me off at my apartment. This is my place. I paid for everything here, and yet, it feels like I’m a stranger in my own home, although it doesn’t feel like what I think a home should. It doesn’t feel warm and cozy. It doesn’t feel safe.
Setting my bag down next to the front door, I move farther into the living room and close my eyes before I inhale deeply. It smells like me still. And dust. Coughing, I open my eyes and shake my head.
My air conditioner is on, but that doesn’t make up for the stagnant dust that’s collected during the months I was away. I need to clean.
It’s better than sitting around and feeling anything, because I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to be feeling in this moment. I’m alone, in my own place. I know that it’s well secured, but that doesn’t mean I’m not frightened. That doesn’t mean I feel snug and safe.
I know that Landon has been watching me, that he’s out there somewhere. I have been able to feel his eyes on me. They feel like he’s actually touching my skin with his fingertips, and it causes my stomach to clench every single time.
Trying to keep myself from focusing on the fact that I’m alone and that Landon is close, I turn on some music, toss my hair up in a messy bun, and begin to clean.
Not only is my apartment dusty, but it feels dirty . I’m not sure how it ended up this way, but once I start, I can’t stop. I deep clean everything. The fridge, the bathrooms, the baseboards, and even the washer and dryer. Nothing goes untouched, and by the time I’m finished, I spin around slowly to take in my handiwork— magnificent .
I also have a whole bag of trash next to the front door that needs to go to the chute, but the thought of going out into the hallway alone paralyzes me. Standing in the middle of my living room, I face the door, my gaze flicking from the trash to the door, then back again, as I try to work up enough courage to take it out, when the knob begins to spin.
Sucking in a breath, I now become paralyzed for a different reason. Someone is at the door, and my heart stops beating. My lungs refuse to inhale or exhale—they stay frozen inside my chest.
But when the door swings open, I exhale a breath of relief. Then the butterflies begin again in my belly.
It’s Grayson Calloway in the flesh.
I know he doesn’t feel the way I do about him. He is kind to me, he smiles easily, and he protects me in a way that nobody else ever has, not even my own brother, not that I always let him try.
As much as I want Grayson to rip my clothes off and fuck me, I’m fairly positive he absolutely doesn’t see me in that way at all whatsoever, so I would never even bring it up. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t make my whole body feel things—all the things.