Chapter 4
FOUR
Nadia groaned as another text dinged through.
God, why hadn’t she blocked his number?
Because you’re a glutton for punishment, and miss him with every breath.
Ugh, she was pathetic.
Ignoring another ding from her cell in the passenger seat, Nadia hit the turn signal and waited for the Nissan to pass, before she pulled onto the short drive that led to the gate at the Unchained compound.
From the passenger seat, her phone rang the opening notes for “Sweet But Psycho” by Ava Max, and she winced. It was the ringtone for her best friend and co-worker, Vicki. Nadia had been avoiding Vicki, knowing that as soon as Vicki put her eyes on Nadia, she’d know something happened. Then, her friend would wait a couple of minutes before crowing, “I told you so!” Because from the moment Nadia had introduced her bestie to Locust, Vicki hadn’t liked him. She’d said there was something off about him, that he seemed like he was hiding something. That he wasn’t genuine . Nadia had laughed it off, telling Vicki that Locust had nothing to hide, but he was a biker, so he gave off those “sorts of vibes,” that she was mistaking his edginess for something more sinister.
Ugh, how wrong Nadia had been…and how right Vicki had been—right from the beginning.
Too bad I didn’t listen to Vicki….
Swallowing down her nausea, she ignored the incoming call, and stopped her car next to the small metal shack that served as a guard house for whoever was on gate duty that day.
Today, it was Tony Dos, who Nadia had only met once, when she attended a barbeque at Horde’s house. That had been quite the memorable barbeque, and it had been her introduction to Locust’s friends.
Shaking her head at those memories, and hating that she was still thinking of him and his brothers fondly, she forced a smile at Tony Dos, and put down her window.
“Afternoon, you here for Locust?” Tony Dos asked, a grin on his face.
Was that grin real or as forced as hers was? Hell, she couldn’t tell; they’d all been lying to her, acting like she was actually welcome, that she was actually someone special to Locust. All along, though, she’d been a target, a mark for their enforcer to use and then dispose of.
“Actually,” she said, her voice cracking from the strain of beating back her tears, “I’m here to see Frost. Is he available?”
At the furrowing of his brows, she knew she’d confused him. Instead of asking her questions, though, he pulled out his cell and texted someone. A minute later, his cell pinged.
“Right,” Tony Dos grunted, “he’s in his office. Park in front, then go right across the main room. His office is the first door down that hallway.”
Yeah, she remembered where it was, because she’d walked past it on her way to the kitchen that morning her world had been blown to pieces.
Nodding her thanks, she pulled through the now open gates, and parked.
Sucking in a breath, she opened the car door, stepped out, then reached back in to grab what she’d brought—proof that their plans would ultimately fail.
God, if they’d just asked me…. Shaking her head, she closed the door, and strode purposefully to the entrance. Inside, the common room was empty. She’d only been there the one time, so she had no idea if the room being empty was normal for that time of day.
Why she bothered thinking about that, she had no idea; she would never set foot in there after today.
Yeah, you said that last time, too….
Lifting her head, squaring her shoulders, she made to walk to Frost’s office, but the man himself stepped into the room, his large body, frightening glower, and immense presence made her halt mid-step and suck in a breath.
Oh God, what the hell was she thinking showing up here, especially now that she knew how they saw her—as an enemy of the club.
Would he even believe her when she finally told him the truth? Would he even care? Or would he interrogate her—hurt her—until he was satisfied that she didn’t have their money?
Trembling, she met Frost’s gaze, and flinched when he barked, “You wanted to talk to me, girlie?”
Gripping the small box in her hands, she nodded. “I…I have something you need to see….”
He cocked his head, his gaze skimming her face, then landing on the box in her grip. Finally, he tipped his chin, and said, “Fine.” He moved toward the bar and sat on the stool furthest from the door. “What’cha got to show me, girlie? I ain’t got all day.”
Closing her eyes just long enough to talk herself into moving, she opened them, then hurried toward the stool two down from his. Hesitating only a moment to gather her breath, she opened the lid, pulled out the item on the top, then slid it across the bar toward Frost.
Furrowing his brow, he stared at the 5 x 8 frame on the bar top. Inside the frame was a picture of Nadia, standing beside a well-dressed man, and in their hands was a giant cardboard check.
It was a picture from the casino, from the night she won the three-million-dollar jackpot. She’d framed the photo because it commemorated an important moment, a great turning point in her life, a life where she was barely scraping by working at a diner, living in a single-wide, and hiding from her step-brother’s problems. Since then, she’d moved and settled into a life she never thought she’d get to have, one of security, safety, contentment, and plenty. Well…plenty to her ; she’d never again have to weigh the option of buying food or paying the power bill, because thanks to her parent’s debt and Elijah’s grabby hands, she’d been poorer than poor for nearly six years.
That windfall had changed her life for the better. Until Locust had smiled at her from beside his truck in breakdown lane of I-81.
Down the bar from her, Frost’s confusion turned to anger in a flash.
“What the fuck is this?” he growled, and she startled.
Just tell him, before he tosses you in a dungeon and leaves you to rot!
“I heard about your plans,” she blurted, making him tense, an iron curtain slamming down over his features. “I know about the money my step-brother stole, and I know you think I have it.” She swallowed at the coldness in his ice-colored eyes. “I don’t.” She nodded at the frame still sitting in front of Frost. “I won the jackpot at Saratoga Casino, three years ago. That’s how I was able to afford my house and my car. I don’t have stolen MC money; I have my own money.”
Leaning back, Frost eyed her warily.
“What did you do with the money when you got it? Our computer man says you don’t have more than $500 in your checking account, so either you got piles of cash somewhere my man can’t find it, or you’re lying.”
Where my man can’t find it… because he was looking for it…in her house…because he was a goddamn spy for the MC.
Her body shaking, her breathing sporadic, she answered, “I’m not lying.” She reached into the box and pulled out her most recent bank statement, sliding it across the bar. “I’ve heard horror stories about how people who have windfalls become the target of opportunists.” And she’d lived them, too. She didn’t bother mentioning Elijah, because if he stole money from Frost’s allies, then Frost already knew Elijah was a lowlife opportunist. “I knew that if I told anyone about it, I’d have the same problems, and I wanted to keep that money as far from me as possible. I opened an account at another bank using my mother’s maiden name.” She indicated the statement on the bar. “That’s a statement I printed just this morning—you can see the time and date stamp from the printer—showing the total amount in the account, when the account was opened, and the amount it was opened with. I used some of the money to pay off my mortgage and buy a new to me used car. As you can see, it was a direct transfer from the casino—no cash deposits.”
God, she couldn’t believe she had to explain any of this, but she knew it was necessary to get the Unchained out of her life.
To get Locust out of her life.
So she could grieve in peace.
The ache in her chest, where her heart used to beat, made her breath catch. Tears burned the back of her eyes and the flesh of her throat, and her hands were shaking like crazy.
I’m crazy for coming here in the first place . But needs must, and she needed to finish this so she could move on.
Frost didn’t move at first, his gaze never leaving Nadia’s face, as though he was gauging her honesty. Like he was one to talk! He sent someone to spy on her, use her, seduce her, and he no right to act like she was the one without honor. She was the victim!
“You work at Emerald Greens,” he said, not surprisingly knowing where she worked; if he had a computer guy who could hack into banks, of course, he’d know everything else about her. Not to mention he had Locust who’d had an intimate knowledge of everything in her life. “Why do you have a job if you’ve got all that money?”
She pursed her lips; this was a question she should have expected.
“I work because I can’t not work. I like being around people, and I like knowing I’m making my own way. The money is a nice security blanket, but everyone knows three million dollars isn’t going to last a lifetime.” She shrugged. “I make money for day to day, and I save the windfall for rainy days.”
Finally, after long moments of uncomfortable silence, Frost sighed, then picked up the bank statement. Nadia watched as he read over it, his gaze catching on certain things, before he got to the last page of the two-page statement—she’d barely touched the money, so there weren’t many transactions to see. Heaving another sigh, he dropped the statement on the bar, and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if in pain.
She watched this all, holding her breath, waiting to see if she’d just handed him her means of escape, or if she’d walked herself into her own death.
“Shit,” Frost grumbled, then dropped his hand to the bar. “When did you last talk to your brother?”
Exhaling, she answered, “Eight months ago. He texted, asking for money, and I sent him some.”
“Did he say where he was?”
She shook her head, suddenly angry as hell at her step-brother, again, for bringing her into this mess. “No, and I didn’t want to know. Elijah burned most of his bridges years ago, and the only reason I even looked at the text was because it was an unknown number, and I was waiting to hear from a colleague about work related things, and their number wasn't in my contacts yet.”
“So you’re saying you have no contact with your brother,” Frost drawled, his tone incredulous.
“No, I do not. He’s my step -brother. His father married my mother when I was twelve. Elijah was already twenty, living away from home, getting into trouble all over town. By the time I was graduating from high school, he’d already been in and out of prison four or five times. Our parents didn’t want him coming around, and when they died in a drunk driving accident, I had to sell the house to cover some of the debts they’d racked up bailing him out all the time.” She’d spent the next six years continuing to pay down those debts, and, more often than not, she’d gone to bed hungry and terrified because some goon in a suit stopped by her trailer looking for her brother or looking for the money he owed them. If she didn’t pay, she’d pay , so she gave all she could, then prayed it was enough until the next time.
For a moment, Frost just stared at her, his eyes penetrating, chilling, digging down to her bones and marrow. What did he think he’d find? She had nothing to hide, unlike the Unchained, who targeted innocent women.
Tapping the bar top, Frost pushed the picture and the bank statement toward her. Hands trembling, she retrieved them, and placed them back in the box. Remembering what else she had in the box, she pulled it out, and slapped it onto the bar.
Frost’s gaze dropped to it, his expression turning curious.
“This is the only thing I have of his, and the only reason I still have it is because it was shoved in the back of my desk drawer.” Honestly, she was surprised Locust hadn’t found it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t snooped through everything in her house, and she didn’t lock her desk drawers. Probably, he had trouble opening the drawer far enough to get to the back; the drawer got jammed because it was old, the sliders along the side stuck, and she had a bad habit of cramming it full of stationary. She had a thing about colored gel pens….
Frost picked up the old cell phone, flipping it over in his hands. “This your brother’s?”
She nodded. “It was in a box of stuff someone mailed me from an apartment in Erie. He was evicted, and the management was kind enough to forward his junk to me, like I’d want it.”
“What else did you get in the box?” Frost asked, his eyes keen.
“Just some old clothes, shoes, a few bongs, and that cell,” she answered, pointing to it.
Reaching into his pocket, Frost texted someone, then shoved his phone back in his pocket.
“We’ll keep this,” he informed her.
“I don’t want it. I didn’t want any of this—” her voice caught as the press of emotions she’d been holding back formed a crack in the protective wall around her heart and soul.
She was falling apart—she’d shatter to pieces if she didn’t get out of there.
So she could shatter alone.
God, will I be alone forever?
Just the thought of that, of living without ever knowing the beauty and depth of true connection…it tore at something inside her, something already too vulnerable. Too battered and bruised. But why would she want to know true connection, if it left her open to feeling what she was feeling now: pain beyond imagining? And who was to say that every man she met in the future wouldn’t just be another Locust, looking for a warm hole to fuck when he got lazy? Would she be able to tell who was real or who was hoping to slip into her bed so he could slip into her wallet? At least Locust wasn’t after her money, just her trust—and he’d stolen it…along with her heart.
Would she ever recover? Could she ever trust her own judgement again? A pang of self-loathing made her jaw clench.
Fool me twice…shame on me….
“Why did you do it?” she asked as the first tear fell. “If you had just asked me about Elijah, I would have told you everything I knew. I have no loyalty to him; he has none for me. You didn’t have to send Locust to charm me, to go digging through my life…to fuck me and make me fall for him so I would tell him whatever he needed to know.”
Somewhere behind her, a “Shit!” in an unfamiliar voice penetrated her thoughts, but she kept going.
“What you did…was cruel. I was innocent, a victim of my step-brother already. You didn’t have to make me a victim of the Unchained, too. Since moving here, I’d only heard good things about your club; you do good work, give to charity, help those in need, protect those who’re in danger, run legitimate businesses, and give back to the community. I never would have thought that men who do charity rides for women escaping domestic violence, would choose to target a woman with your schemes.”
From the pinched look and creeping red on Frost’s face, he didn’t like what she was saying.
Well, fuck him!
Swiping at her tears, Nadia snatched the bank statement and picture from the bar, dropped them in the box, slammed on the lid, and slid away from the stool. She was ready to break, to fall to pieces, but she couldn’t to it here; she couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable surrounded by those who’d hurt her for their own gain.
It would never happen again, she determined, but her traitorous mind flashed images of a grinning Locust behind her eyes. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable, he’d lain beside her in her bed, listening to her speak of her dreams, her fears, everything that made her who she was.
And he’d been a knife at her back the whole time, waiting for the chance to plunge the blade into it. He wasn’t first to use her for what he could gain, but God, his betrayal hurt the most.
“Once she gives me what I need, I’ll dump her, bathe in a vat of acid, then come here, get drunk, and fuck someone who actually knows how to pleasure a man….”
God, he hadn’t even wanted to have sex with her; he’d found her repulsive, but he was so goddamn loyal to the Unchained, he’d closed his eyes, imagined he was banging some clubwhore, and did his duty. She’d thought he was making love to her, but he was silently hating her—only someone who hated her would be willing to do what Locust had done.
“Now, let’s not go speaking about things we don’t know shit about,” Frost growled, standing to his full height—which was massive compared to her five-foot-six.
“Prez,” a voice barked from behind her, a voice she recognized to her soul. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Nadia could feel him come up behind her, and when he went to put his hand on her waist, she jerked away.
He cursed. “What the hell happened?” She didn’t know if he was talking to Frost or her, but she refused to look at him to find out. She couldn’t look at him, at those eyes and that smile that had lured her in, that had fooled her with his false faces.