Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
He watched as his words settled into her mind, her beautiful eyes growing bright with tears. She was trembling beneath his touch, but not in fear. She was shocked, and after emptying herself out just moments before, he understood how she didn’t know what to think or feel.
He didn’t know how to feel, either, but he did know he felt like the lowest piece of shit on Earth. He wanted to say that if Frost had known about Joe, he never would have told Locust to target Nadia, but the man would probably see that as a bonus; she was obviously susceptible to handsome, charming men. Locust knew that no matter what, Frost would have sent Locust on the same mission, with the same desired outcome.
With Joe, she’d been charmed, seduced, and then scammed by someone who lied to her, using her—how was he any different? Well, for one, he loved the fuck out of her. What he felt for her was real.
“I can see you don’t believe me,” he began, gently urging her to take a seat once more. Right next to him. No more space between them.
She laughed a humorless laugh. “What gave you that idea?” She rolled her eyes, and he couldn’t help my smirk at her sass. Beneath all that pain, the fire was still there.
Good; the fire means she isn’t as broken as she thinks she is.
“You don’t have to believe me, but I do need to explain why I did what I did…and what happened afterward. After I met you.”
She stared at him, her gaze skimming his face, judging his sincerity. She must’ve believed he would explain; she settled back into the couch, and remained silent. She nodded once and waited.
Sucking in a deep breath that shook a little, he admitted, “I want to start off by saying that when Frost first told me about my…err…mission, I didn’t feel good about it. It didn’t feel right, especially since that’s not something he’d ever asked of any of the brothers before. I don’t understand his motives, what he was thinking when he handed out that order, I can only tell you that it didn’t feel right.”
She furrowed her brows, and then she asked exactly what he thought she would.
“If it didn’t feel right, why did you still do it?”
He didn’t want to answer her, the words lodged in his throat. Instead, he admitted, “When Ratchet—Elijah—stole from the Bone Dogz, he got himself caught up in some serious shit. When the Bone Dogz came to Frost requesting a patch over—basically combining the clubs under the Unchained patch—he was wary at first. The Bone Dogz were a one percent club, meaning they did a lot of shit the Unchained would never touch. When Frost found out about the money Ratchet took, it was almost like he hyper focused on it. He wanted that money bad, but he couldn’t get a bead on Ratchet. Through some sleuthing by Redtube, we learned about you….”
“And so you targeted me, thinking you could get to Elijah through me,” she finished for him, a bitter twist to her lips.
He nodded, hating that he had to speak the words in the first place. “We targeted you to get to him. You know I’m club enforcer, so it’s my job to make sure the club is protected, and I take my job seriously. When Frost approached me, he told me about Ratchet, the money, and how that money could be used to upgrade club protection. He wasn’t wrong; that kind of money could be put to good use….” Fuck, that sounded cold as hell, and he could see from the look on her face that his words were making her feel worse and worse. He couldn’t stop there, though. She should hear it all—if he had any chance of getting her back, she would have to hear it all in order to forgive him.
Even the worst parts, the parts that would tear him apart.
“He told me what I’d need to do, that I needed to have a run in with you, chat you up, charm you, get into your home…your bed—if necessary—to see if you knew anything about where Ratchet was or if you were holding the money for him. The supposedly suspicious mortgage-free house and new car were red flags, like you’d used the money your brother stole to buy yourself into a cushy lifestyle.”
She shook her head violently, growling, “I would never touch a fucking penny that crook gave me. Everything he touched turned to shit, and I already had my fair share of cleaning up his messes when he’d fuck around with some gang bangers’ money, and they’d come looking for it at my place. Five times, Locust, five times I had to fend off local goons who came to my trailer to get the money my step-brother owed them. After a while, paying them off with my meager savings, my TV, my mom’s jewelry, or my car wasn’t enough. They wanted me to work for them, spreading my legs for them. I hid as often as I could, avoiding them in the neighborhood—and that fucking windfall came not more than two weeks after the last visit . It was goddamn providence I didn’t have to sell my body because my fucking step-brother used their supply instead of making them money.”
Suddenly, he wanted to find Ratchet, string him up by his balls, and beat the shit out of him. Again. That motherfucker had a lot of making up to do, and Locust would be there to make sure he did it.
Scrubbing his hand down his face, Locust remarked, “That money did good, baby, and I’m sorry I thought you would ever aid and abet your ratchet ass brother, but I didn’t know you then.”
She huffed, a sad smile curling her lips. “Do you even know me now?”
Without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. She didn’t flinch or pull back, which was good.
“I know everything there is to know about you, baby, I just lost myself along the way.”
Her beautiful eyes filled with tears, and his heart jumped into his throat.
“I lost myself, too…” she admitted. “You broke me, so badly—I became that woman at Cool Hands….” Sniffling, she wiped a tear from her chin. “It was funny as hell at the time, but after I had time to think about it, about what I did, it felt wrong. I was in the wrong. And I hated that.” Lifting her gaze, she met his, tears still brimming her eyes. “That’s what betrayal does to someone; the pain is so bad that you have to become someone else to survive it. I loved you, to the depths of my soul, and when I overheard you talking to Cluster about me, about…what you planned to do, about our-our sex life…it was more than just a betrayal of me, it was a violation of me as a person.” She wiped another tear, and Locust had to fight the urge to simultaneously punch himself in the face, and reach out and hold her in his arms. In the end, they did the latter, and she melted right into him. Right where she belonged; her heart beating against his heart, the heart she owed.
He pinched his eyes shut, remembering her face the day he walked into the clubhouse to find her with Frost. The devastation in her eyes, the weird blankness in her expression…he had made her that way. He was the reason she was sobbing into his arms in that moment, and he knew that no matter how many times he said he was sorry, it wouldn’t matter. He had to prove it.
Maybe I should call church…hand in my kutte….
In his arms, Nadia sniffled, furiously wiping at her face with the sleeve of her blouse.
“Ugh, I hate crying,” she muttered wetly.
He sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple, and humming.
“I hate you crying, too, baby, especially when I’m the reason,” he spat, hating himself a little more.
Her red-eyed gaze glided over his face, and he could see the wheels turning behind her eyes.
Finally, she rolled her eyes and groaned dramatically, “I really don’t want to be angry with you anymore, Locust?—”
“James,” he interjected, despising the sound of his road name on her lips.
“What?” she asked, her lips pursing in confusion.
“You call me James.”
Again, she rolled her eyes. “We’ll reevaluate after tonight. As of right now, I’m still flipping back and forth in my head. We’ll see which one stays.”
He could deal with that…as long as she was screaming James before too much longer.
Down, boy! There’s still too much to unpack.
“I get why Frost would want the money for the club, but why, if it didn’t feel right, did you go through with it? Why, when you were supposedly falling in love with me, did you continue to do his bidding? Why, if you loved me and wanted an actual relationship with me, didn’t you just sit me down, tell me the truth, and ask me straight out about my step-brother?”
All the words piled up on the tip of his tongue, but his mouth refused to open.
Her gaze pinned to his face, she must have seen the hesitation…the climbing panic. His heart raced, his chest burned from holding his breath, and his pulse was pounding in his ears.
Open your mouth! Tell her! No! She’ll think I’m a fucking loser like her fuck up of a brother and I can say goodbye to that second chance.
She hissed, sneering, “Are you serious right now? You invite me here, telling me you want to explain, but when it comes right down to it, you’re just a liar. Once again, I’ve fallen for your lies—” She shoved at his chest and moved to jump to her feet, but he grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her, crushing her to his chest.
“No! Please! Just…give me a minute!” he implored against the crown of her head. She wriggled trying to get free, but he was stronger, and he had so much to lose.
“You’ve had six months, Locust!” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “You could have told me on the side of the highway where you first met me, or—hey, how ‘bout before you fucked me three weeks later?”
“I wanted to tell you,” he cried out, hating how weak he was in the face of Truth. She needed the truth, and he was terrified. “Once I realized I loved you, keeping my mission a secret made me sick; the guilt ate me alive.”
She snorted derisively, and he cringed.
He couldn’t lose her.
“I’ll tell you, just?—”
She shoved him again, pulling her head back to glare at him. “No! You tell me right now or I’ll walk, and I will never speak to you again. You will be nothing to me but the worst time in my life, a stain, a mistake I will?—”
“I owe him,” he shouted, “he saved my life!” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but she was talking about leaving, cutting him out of her life completely, and that thought of that was so devastating, he knocked the truth right out of his mouth.
Shocked into silence, it took Nadia a few heart-pounding moments to utter, “What?”
He heaved a shaky sigh, flexing his arms which were still around her. She didn’t seem to notice, though, so he basked in it, the sensation of her being in his arms. Her chest against his chest. He sucked in a deep breath, inhaling her scent, bracing himself for what was coming.
“He saved my life, Nadia. I owe that man my life.”
She must have seen something in his expression, because her eyes softened.
“James…you don’t have to tell me?—”
“No, no…I want to—I need to.”
“Okay…I’ll listen.”
He knew she would, he just hoped she was still in his arms when he was done.
He nodded hesitantly, his expression hard, his skin pale, his eyes dulled with apprehension and sorrow.
Her heart was still racing from her outburst, but now it was also thudding in fear.
God, what had he gone through?
“I met Dale Grady in the fifth grade. We were both only children, we both had shitty parents, and we both had something to prove. Fast forward fifteen years…we’re partying, getting high, doing stupid shit for the thrill…but Dale took it too far.” Swallowing thickly, Locust’s eyes filled with grief. “We were at a party, I was high as fuck—addicted to heroin and pills—and Dale was talking out his ass about some new shit he scored from some shady dude. I didn’t care that the whole thing sounded suspect, I just nodded and grinned like the high ass fuck I was. I watched as he loaded the syringe, as he put it in his veins, and the whole time I was grinning, laughing, thinking about the bitch sucking my dick and when I could get to Wendy’s for a Frosty.”
Oh, God…this is going to be so bad….
Closing his eyes as unutterable pain etched his features, Locust croaked, “I passed out. I didn’t mean to, but I did. And when I woke up….”
A sob rose into her throat, but she swallowed it. Her hands against his chest, she slid them upward until she was cupping his face, pouring warmth and love into him.
“Dale was dead. I’ll never forget what he looked like—eyes wide open, expression frozen in a look of panic, puke on his chin and t-shirt, lips blue…. I was right there, sitting on the couch next to him, but I was so fucked up, I didn’t stop him, I couldn’t even if I wanted to because I was so strung out, I couldn’t rub two fucking thoughts together. I knew it was my fault; he was dead because I was a bad fucking friend. He died because I was a druggie who only cared about my own self. Three weeks later, high as fuck, grieving, terrified, drunk on tequila, I climbed to the roof of a bar down the street from the flop house where Dale had died. I just…I wanted to end it all, to stop the pain, to stop seeing his face in my mind. I stood on the edge of the roof, lifted my foot, ready to splat and end it all, but then this voice came out of the dark behind me….”
“Frost,” she said as things started rewriting themselves in her mind. “It was Frost.”
He nodded, the movement jerky. “It was Frost. It was his bar. Someone saw me climbing the ladder at the back and told him. He said he came up there to beat the shit out of whoever thought they could trespass on his property, but then he saw me…and he knew he needed to do something. That night, he talked me down off the ledge—literally—got me hooked up with a program in the Poconos, and I got clean. After that, he dragged me to the club house, handed me a prospect kutte, and told me to get to scrubbing toilets. I’ve been with the Unchained since.”
Well…that did explained things. Some things.
Locust nuzzled her palms which were still pressed against his cheeks. The roughness of his five o’clock shadow against the flesh of her hands was a sensation she missed…so, so, so much. Closing her eyes against the memories of them together, of his scruff tickling her naked skin, she battled back the need for him.
He hummed, his gaze lifting to hers, and she gasped at the naked vulnerability and agony in his dark blue eyes.
“That night, if he hadn’t come up there, ready to bust some heads, I’d be dead.”