CHAPTER 38
SHADOW
It’s almost six, and I’m only fifteen minutes out from the Steel Graces’ clubhouse.
The last half hour, my palms have been sweating.
It’s not normal to be summoned to the clubhouse on Sunday night, but Wiz made it clear I had no choice.
I’d tried to negotiate a different day, but she’d been insistent that I stop by on my way home from dropping off the girls at Margot’s.
Since I go right through Saratoga Springs, I couldn’t budge her.
Until my phone call from Wiz this morning, it’d been a wonderful weekend. I missed Storm, but my heart was full spending time with my girls. At least I’d gotten the chance to talk to Storm last night after Leah and Nora had gone to bed.
My stomach’s been tied in knots all day, and during the forty-five-minute drive from Albany, I did everything short of calling Storm to distract myself. I couldn’t risk reaching out to her since she’d pick up that something was wrong. It’s amazing how well she reads me already.
Despite my best efforts, I can’t keep the negative thoughts from rolling around in my head. What if Wiz found out I’m hanging out with Storm? How could she?
Ugh. I haveta focus on something other than Wiz, or I’m going to drive into the ditch.
Storm. Her face fills my mind, and I smile. Last weekend turned out nothing like I expected, but in most ways, it was better. The disturbance Frost caused at Casino Night and Dimples being injured wasn’t, but the rest was.
I’m not na?ve. Storm’s reputation precedes her. She’s popular with the ladies, and why wouldn’t she be? She’s adorable. Her intense brown eyes and mop of hair are so damned sexy, as is her hard body, and then add the twinge of danger, and she’s irresistible.
I’d gone into the weekend with eyes wide open. It’d been a long time since I shared a bed with anyone and even longer since I’d had an orgasm at anyone else’s hand. Before Storm picked me up, I’d given myself permission to give in to my body’s desires.
Apparently, Storm hadn’t gotten the memo. Perhaps it would’ve turned out different had Dimples not gotten hurt. But nothing happened once we got back to Storm’s room. No, that’s not true. Something happened—we snuggled, and I woke up in the morning with Storm holding me.
Granted, it’d been late once Dimples convinced Storm to stop fretting over her and go to bed. If I hadn’t been there, I doubt Storm would have left Dimples’ care to Jazmin. I felt guilty until Dimples smiled at me and asked me to drag Storm’s ass out of her room so she could get some sleep.
It was after two when we climbed into bed. I’d been prepared for Storm to paw at me, wanting a quick release after the adrenaline surge we’d had earlier. Instead, she pulled me close, so my head rested on her chest, and then she started talking.
I’m not sure why I was surprised. We’ve talked every night since we met.
Like our phone calls, we started by recapping our day, which led to processing what happened at the lodge.
Then the conversation shifted to being in bed together.
My heart warmed at her emotional honesty and openness, and it made me want to do the same.
We decided, together, that we didn’t want to have urgent, hurried sex when we were emotionally and physically exhausted. Once decided, my body relaxed against hers, and I could enjoy being there in her arms.
I chuckle to myself. While my heart and mind approved of the decision, the rest of my body still hasn’t forgiven me.
Thinking about Storm was just the distraction I needed.
By the time I pull into the Steel Graces’ parking lot, my nerves have settled.
I hop out of my car and take a deep breath.
There are several bikes in the lot. Of course there are.
Sunday night is popular with the Graces.
I can do this. My time with Margot taught me how to keep a blank expression and give nothing away.
When I walk into the clubhouse, it’s loud and full. With a quick scan of the room, I spot Wiz sitting alone at the bar. My eyes widen when I get closer. A highball glass with amber liquid in the bottom sits in front of Wiz. She may have a beer, but I’ve never seen her drink anything stronger.
I stroll up behind her. “Rough week?” I say, hoping the joke will land.
Wiz turns, and her eyes are puffy as if she’s gotten little sleep. True to my promise to myself, I keep my reaction from my face.
“What are you drinking?” Wiz asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Wiz picks up her drink and downs it. She sets the glass on the bar and slides it across the top.
The prospect is there as soon as Wiz releases it. “Would you like more?”
Wiz eyes the glass but then shakes her head. “No, I’m good.” She stands and begins walking away. She calls over her shoulder, “Come with me.”
I follow her to her office. Nothing is out of place. Controlled—just like Wiz. Other than the professional photos of the club on the wall, it could be a corporate office. Nothing that speaks to the person who occupies the space.
The desktop is uncluttered. Her laptop is closed and pushed off to the corner. There’s a small notepad embossed with the Graces’ logo, a fountain pen, and a manila envelope.
She motions me to one of the plush leather chairs in front of her desk before she takes her seat behind it.
I sit with my knees pressed together and my hands crossed in my lap.
If I swing my legs, I’d look like a kid sitting in the principal’s office.
I keep my body steady, even though I’m itching to fidget.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you in.”
I nod. “Yes, President.” Formality seems the best way to respond.
It seems to annoy her as anger flashes in her eyes.
Shit. It’s not smart to antagonize Wiz. I give her a half smile, hoping it’ll ease the tension.
It doesn’t.
“I haven’t seen you since the poker run,” Wiz says.
Yes, it’s a fact, but what is she expecting me to say? Is her stare meant to cause me to verbally vomit where I was? Instead, I pivot. “What was the final tally? How much money did we give to the shelter?”
Wiz slams her fist onto her desk, causing me to jump. “Goddamn it, Shadow, I didn’t call you in to talk about how much our fundraiser netted.”
“Yes, President,” I say again, but I don’t ask her reason for summoning me. It might come off too aggressive.
“You had a mission,” she says. “When we talked after the run, you said there wasn’t anything to report. But I have a few more questions.”
I try to keep my shoulders relaxed. “Yes, President.”
“Tell me again about your time with Storm.” Wiz smiles, but it isn’t a pleasant smile.
I study her for just a moment. My earlier report had been brief, so I’m not sure what she’s playing at. “Like I told you, I don’t have anything. I want to apologize again for leaving early.”
“I’m not interested in an apology.”
Okay. She’s cranky tonight. “I wish I could tell you more. I witnessed a couple brief exchanges between Storm and Frost. I suppose there may have been some tension, but since I don’t know either well, I can’t say why.
Storm offered no insight into it, and of course, I didn’t push for fear she’d become suspicious. ”
“Surely, she said something useful in all the time you were together.”
I couldn’t miss her accusation, but I remain calm. “Nothing about Frost. She told stories about the Thorns.”
“And Aces?” The look of distaste on her face only confirms Storm’s story about the feud between Aces and Wiz.
I look toward the ceiling as if thinking. “Yeah, she mentioned how much she admired Aces. What an amazing woman she was.”
“Cut the crap!” Wiz practically shouts. She pushes the manila envelope toward me. “Care to explain?”
My mouth goes dry as I stare at the envelope.
“Open it!” she orders.
Tentatively, I pick it up, turn it over, and undo the clasp. I yank out several sheets, but I’m afraid to look at them, so I focus on Wiz’s chin.
“Look at them.”
Somehow I keep my hands steady as I flip through the photos. All were taken at the Thorns’ Casino Night. When I finish, I cycle through again. There’s about a dozen. All appear to be during the commotion with Frost. There’s no mistaking me in my skimpy black dress.
“Moonlighting?” Wiz’s voice is full of sarcasm. “I knew you needed money for a lawyer, but I didn’t think you’d go slumming.”
I bite my tongue. Though I’m angry she’s insulting the Thorns, now isn’t the time to defend them. I don’t look at Wiz as I shuffle the pictures. I’m not seeing them, but I need to keep my hands busy.
“You don’t have anything to say?”
A picture is worth a thousand words. “What would you like me to say, President?”
“Explain yourself,” she barks. “What the hell were you doing? What were you thinking?”
“Where’d you get these?” I say, going on the offensive, but I keep my tone neutral.
Wiz leans over and snatches the photos out of my hand. I gasp in surprise but regain my calm. She slams the photos on her desk and stands.
I feel small as she looks down at me, but I remain seated not wanting to appear aggressive.
“Look at me!”
She’s full of orders. It’s what Wiz does best. But I’ve had years of practice with Margot, who only speaks in orders. I focus my gaze on her chin.
“This is a serious breach of protocol. Of club rules.”
Funny, it wasn’t when Wiz asked me to do it. Something else I won’t say. “Okay.” That’s all I’ve got.
“Okay? That’s fucking it? Jesus, Shadow.”
My reaction seems to infuriate her, but I’m not sure what else I can do. I take a deep breath. “I’m unsure what you’d like me to say.”
“Are the pictures of you?”
I lift my gaze to her eyes. Does she expect me to deny it? Claim it was AI-generated? “Yes.”
She leans forward and tilts her head, so her ear is toward me. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, it’s me in the pictures.”
“You’re not even going to explain?”
“What’s there to explain?” Maybe it’s my years with Margot when nothing I ever said was enough, or maybe I know my actions are indefensible.
“What were you doing?”
Finally, a question I can answer. “I was serving food and beverages.”
“It looks like you were in the middle of a brawl.”
Not in a cocktail dress. “There was a minor disturbance, but—”
She jabs her finger on one picture. “This isn’t the Thorns’ clubhouse. Where is it?”
Shit. I’m not sure if Storm would want me to answer, so I stay mum.
After sitting in silence for what felt like an eternity, Wiz says, “You were at an illegal poker game hosted by the Thorns. Illegal. Do you understand the implications?”
“Yes, President.”
“I’m not so sure you do. Explain it.”
“As you said earlier, you view this as a breach of club protocol.” I keep my voice even, though my insides are shaking.
“Do you?”
My mind races. “My opinion doesn’t matter. Enforcing club protocol is the officers’ responsibility.”
Her nostrils flare, and I’m pretty sure she could crack a walnut in her jaws. “Do you have any defense for your actions?”
“No, President.”
“You better come up with something fast.” She picks up the pictures, shoves them into the envelope, and tosses them at me. “This issue isn’t over.”
I drop my head and stare at my hands. “I understand.”
“Get the hell out of my office.” She stands. “I’ll let you know when I can get the officers together.”
I rise and wrestle with whether I should say more. Since the Steel Graces stress God first, family second, and club third, I say, “I have my girls next Sunday. Margot has an event at her law office.”
“So noted.”
I take it as a small victory as I leave her office.