Chapter 19
NINETEEN
It took her a moment to really see what she was looking at. Bikers, from wall to wall, and a few women she recognized: Cilla, Stephie, Tasha, and Emily. She was surprised to see Tasha there, especially after the drama at Horde’s party months ago.
She mentally shrugged, her brain too flustered and overwhelmed to focus on that mystery at the moment.
Behind her, she heard the door open. With a quick glance of her shoulder, she saw her best friend slip into the room, a sheepish yet eager look on her face. Ooooo, she was not in the least surprised to find Nadia in a room full of bikers.
What the hell?
She glared at Vicki Epply, her former best friend, shooting her a look that said, “What did you do?”
The woman gave Nadia a lopsided smile, then shrugged.
Turning back to the room, her gaze clashed with the dark blue, electric, breath-stealing eyes of Locust.
There, standing in the middle of the milling leather-clad badasses was the man she loved.
Wearing his usual outfit of faded jeans and t-shirt, he stood stiffly, his hands in his pockets. His bandana was missing, and his overlong hair looked like he’d been shoving his fingers through it. He looked so good, so handsome, just as sexy as she remembered. But something was definitely different; the purple half circles under his eyes, the fatigue and worry on his face…those were new.
Is he not sleeping enough? What is he worried about? Can I help?
Lord, she really was pathetic.
There’s nothing pathetic about caring about someone, even if they hurt you.
But what the hell were they all doing there in the costliest banquet room? They were going to get her fired!
She peered down at the request form, reading over it, and replaying her interaction with Shannon, and realized…she’d been played. Shannon had been in on it—and so had Vicki, apparently. Nadia wondered who else was part of the plan to get her to the Garden Room for this…ambush.
You know you’re curious about why they’re all here.
Yes, she was, but she needed to nip whatever this was in the bud. The last thing she needed was for Bengwell to get wind of an MC having a get-together at Emerald Greens—and that she had dated one of them.
Finding her voice, she faced the room at large, ignoring Locust’s intense gaze. She could feel his eyes on her, devouring her, like he was starved for the sight of her.
He’s not the only one.
She cleared her throat. “Oh,” she drawled, planting her hands on her hips. “I get it.” She nodded sagely. “You wanted a five-foot-tall penis sculpture…because you’re all a big bunch of dicks!”
The room erupted in laughter and a few grumbles of mock offense.
Locust’s brow furrowed.
“Penis sculpture? What the fuck?” he growled, turning to spear Clusterfuck with his eyes. “What the hell did you do, man?”
Cluster shrugged, popping his gum without a care. “It got her here, didn’t it? Besides, I’ve always wanted a life-sized copy of my?—”
“Whoa— life-sized ?” Horde barked in disbelief. “Like hell is your dick five feet tall!”
Cluster puffed his chest out, looking all sorts of affronted. “How the hell would you know?”
Horde snorted. “More like a 100% enlarged scale of your dick, Fuck.”
Cluster slammed his mouth closed, scrunching his face up while he seemed to do the math in his head. Finally, he raised his fist, moving to punch a cackling Horde.
“Boys, boys!” a small yet mighty Cilla chastised as she pushed through the crowd of oversized toddlers, and glared. She pointed at Cluster, then Horde. “You two can have a dick measuring contest later; right now, there’s something more important that needs to happen, and it won’t happen if you two don’t pipe down and let Locust talk.”
“What’s he doing, anyway?” Cluster asked.
“Yeah, why are all of us here?” Tony Dos asked, scratching his head. “This room doesn’t look like our normal kind of place.”
“I’d like to know as well, brother,” Frost agreed, moving to stand next to Locust, who she still refused to look at. “I got the same text everyone else got, which means that whatever this is wasn’t cleared with me.”
A derisive cough sounded from the back of the room, and Nadia looked to see a peeved Emily glaring at her husband. Well, that wasn’t good. Then again, since Emily had found out about what Frost had ordered Locust to do, she sent a weekly wildflower bouquet to the front desk. Nadia was pretty sure that was Emily’s way of apologizing for her husband’s behavior, which meant the woman was still upset about it. Understandably.
The grumbling and whispering and talk of dicks faded into nothing when Locust stepped forward. Something in the way he moved made her look at him, really look at him. There was an intensity, a desperation, a determination in his eyes that took her breath away. His massive body was tense, as though every muscle in his was locked tight, waiting for the hammer’s blow. She watched him swallow thickly, like there was something lodged in his throat.
Her heart skipping beat after beat after beat, she held her breath. Every atom in her body, every synapse in her brain, every last fragment of her splintered soul was focused on the man before her.
“I came here, with my brothers as my witnesses, to do this,” Locust announced. As she watched—as the whole room watched, holding their collective breaths—Locust shrugged off his kutte, walked over to the indoor fireplace, switched it on, and then held his kutte over the blue and white flames.
Every man in the room spat out curses, anger and disbelief filling their faces, but none as pissed and conflicted as Frost, who looked on with barely leashed rage.
“Patriot told me I should risk something, something that you think is more important than you are. So…I’m giving up my place in the Unchained. I’m destroying my kutte, taking away and chance of ever wearing the patch again. I want to show you, my love, that there’s nothing—not a goddamn thing—more important to me than you are. If that means burning my kutte, I’ll do it. If it means dismantling my bike, I’ll do it. If it means selling everything I own and living in a doghouse in your backyard, I’ll do it. There is nothing I won’t do, nothing I won’t risk to show you that I love you, that I’m loyal to you, that I will never betray you again.”
The hand grasping the kutte began to lower toward the flames, and Nadia’s chest grew tight, her heart thundering.
Was he really going to do it?
“ Locust ,” Frost rasped, his voice carried a note of concern she’d never heard in voice before, and from the looks on the faces of the men gathered, they hadn’t heard it much before, either. “I want you to take a moment to think about this. You know the bylaws; you destroy your kutte, you’re dead to the club, you no longer exist, all your ties—money, property, protection—all cut and dead.” He stepped closer, his face pale. “Is that what you really want? After all you’ve gone through? After all you’ve done for the club?”
James shook his head sadly, shame on his face and in his bearing.
He wasn’t really going to do it, right? It was all fake, right? He didn’t really love her or want to be with her, right? He wouldn’t actually drop the kutte because this was all a big, elaborate scene for some benefit, right?
Big elaborate scene? For what purpose? What could the Unchained MC possibly want from you that they’d put all this effort into getting you here, and making James—Locust—act like he was giving up the Unchained?
No, this couldn’t be real….
There’s no way he’d actually do it.
“All I’ve done for the club?” Locust recited thickly, like the words pained him to speak. “You mean like how I was so blindly loyal to you that I hurt the woman I love?” James shook his head again, his mouth a thin, hard line. “I can’t do that again, Frost. I won’t. I would die for the brotherhood, I would spill blood for any motherfucker in here, but I refuse to lose the one person I fucking live for.”
She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in shock.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she couldn’t take her eyes off the man who was still lowering his kutte closer to the flames. Any second, the leather would begin to curl and smoke from the heat.
But he didn’t stop.
“Nadia,” he choked out, his voice cracking, “I will do anything to prove to you that I love you, that our time together meant everything to me; not a single moment was fake. I know I have a lot to make up for, but I will. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it, worshipping you, cherishing you….” Sucking in a breath that made his chest visibly expand, he pleaded, “Please…forgive me. Please…give me a second chance.”
The whole of her quaking with cataclysmic emotions, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move—her mind was spinning, unable to latch on to any one thing.
But there was one thing she couldn’t tear her eyes from…the now smoking kutte.
He’s really doing it! Stop him!
Throwing her arms out, she shouted, “No!”
Startled, Locust’s face drained of color, a look of utter devastation on his face.
Oh God, he thought she meant “no” to him.
Hurrying forward, she snatched the kutte from his hand and hurried to one of the planters which held internal reservoirs of water for timed watering. Carefully, she dipped the smoking leather into the basin, watching as the material floated, slightly curling from its exposure to the heat.
Behind her, the room was bone-jarringly silent.
Until his voice murmured through the silence, “Nadia…baby? What are you doing?”
Swallowing, hating the burn of tears behind her eyes, then the tears spilling down her cheeks, she pressed the now wet kutte to her chest, close to her heart, and turned around, facing the room.
But her gaze immediately collided with Locust’s.
With James’s.
Opening her trembling mouth, she croaked, “I couldn’t let you do that; the Unchained mean too much to you.”
As she spoke, he shook his head. “Not as much as you do, baby.”
Swallowing, she nodded. “I believe that. I believe you.”
The badass biker, proud, powerful, and arrogant enforcer…fell to his knees before her, his gorgeous blue eyes filling with tears.
Vulnerable, emotional, he was breaking, allowing other men, who prided themselves on their strength, to see him in his moment of weakness.
It was humbling. It was heartbreaking.
It was beautiful.
From his knees, he reached out for her, and she went to him, placing her hands in his. He grasped them, pulling her closer until she was standing over him, peering down into his eyes. Eyes overflowing with love and relief and hope.
Her own tears continued to slide down her cheeks. Lord, they two looked a mess.
“You believe me?” She nodded, smiling softly. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
How could she not? Yes, what he’d done was disgusting and humiliating, but he’d done it because he was loyal to something above himself; the MC. Yes, he’d gone about apologizing and getting her back the wrong way—she wasn’t an idiot, she’d caught on to the cameras not too long after the closet incident. But throughout everything, he’d shown her, time and again, he was willing to do whatever was necessary to be there, whether she expected him to be or not. And now, with the kutte—in front of his entire club—he’d proven what he was willing to give up to be with her.
She couldn’t ignore that, and she wouldn’t.
Nodding in answer, she gasped when James shot to his feet and enveloped her in his embrace. Hungry lips met hers, hard and desperate, stealing her breath and her senses. Hooting and whistles and cat calls exploded through the elegant room.
She ignored the rabble, focusing on the man holding her, the man her heart and body had been aching for. Her heart was still sore, but it was rejoicing in being, once more, connected to the one it craved. And her body… wanted to be sore.
You can’t jump him here! Bengwell will fire you for soiling the Garden Room!
James broke the kiss, leaving them panting, then pressed his forehead against hers. She opened her eyes to peer up into his, and his were smiling.
“Fuck, yeah, big daddy Locust!” Cluster bellowed, slapping James on the back, which made his hard chest brush against her tight, hard nipples. She nearly groaned, but James couldn’t possibly miss the way her skin flushed.
He smirked a knowing smirk.
“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” James murmured against her lips, flicking his tongue out to lick her mouth like a delicious lollipop.
Shuddering, her body thrumming, she simply nodded. Who cared if she still had three hours on the clock. Traitor Shannon and Former Best Friend Vicki could deal with things until tomorrow.
Tugging his kutte from her clasped hands, he put it back on, sighing as the leather slipped over his shoulders.
Nadia saw Frost staring, his expression guarded, but she knew James would have to answer to him sooner rather than later. Hopefully, the club prez would be lenient in his punishment, especially since he was partially at fault for James’s predicament.
His kutte on, James grabbed Nadia’s hand, and pulled her toward the double doors.
“Good luck,” Vicki called, humor in her voice. “I’ll call you later tonight!”
“Tomorrow night!” James called back, winking at Nadia, which made her grin.
Oooo, she was in for it—and she couldn’t wait.
Thankful he’d brought his truck and not his bike, Nadia used the time between Emerald Greens and James’s duplex to reexamine what happened in that opulent banquet room.
“I can hear you thinking hard over there, baby. I know we still have a lot to talk about, but as long as you forgive me, we can work on everything else, yeah?”
She turned from the window to look at him. He was so freaking handsome with this dark scruff, intense eyes, hard, taut body, and thick blonde hair. And he was all hers.
“Yeah,” she answered. “I forgive you, James?—”
“Thank fuck, baby,” he interjected, grinning over at her. “Not only did you forgive me, but you’re saying my name again. None of that road name shit with me again, baby. You’re my ol’ lady, which means first names…or manly endearments like Sexy, or Big Daddy, or?—”
“Big Dick,” she offered, snickering.
He chuckled. “Nah, that was all Cluster, the fuck. I had no idea he was going to do that.”
Pulling up to a stoplight, James turned to her again. “After Patriot helped me pull my head out of my ass about finally proving shit to you, I sent out a club-wide text. I only had the sketch of an idea in my head, but Cilla and Tasha gave me the idea to rent out a banquet hall where you work. When I found out the room we got—the only room available on such short notice—had a fireplace, I knew what had to be done. I made sure all the brothers were coming. Cluster called me, wanting to know what he could do to help; he’d overheard Cilla and Tasha talking, and wanted in on the plans.”
The light turned green, and James accelerated through it.
He kept talking. “He feels bad, you know.”
Nadia furrowed her brows. “Cluster?”
James nodded. “Yeah. He knows that if he hadn’t been shooting off his mouth that morning after the party, you wouldn’t have heard the truth the way you had. Don’t get me wrong, I would have told you, soon, but I wouldn’t have been lying out of my ass to save my pride like I did that morning. You overheard a lot of bullshit, baby. None of what I said was true—not a goddamn word.”
She sighed, her hands plucking at the hem of her shirt nervously.
“I know that now, but then…my heart was shattered. I didn’t think…I didn’t think I’d ever recover.” Emotion coiled in her chest, turning to fire and stone in her throat. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing…didn’t want to believe it.”
“But you don’t now…right?” James asked, hitting the blinker to head right.
“I believe that you felt you had to perform because you owed Frost. I believe that you felt bad about tricking me, but you were trapped between doing your duty for the club and telling me the truth. I believe….” She licked her lips, weighing her next words. “I believe that you love me.”
“Thank fuck,” he crowed, reaching over to snag her hand in his, squeezing it. “You don’t know what that means to me, baby…but you will.” His voice deepened, carrying with it a promise of dark delights.
And thank God they were pulling into his driveway, because she didn’t know how much longer she could stop herself from jumping him like a monkey on a cake.