Chapter thirty
Abby
Female intuition was a blessing and a curse. It helped me figure out when someone was trying to bullshit me when we were conducting business, giving me the runaround, and fucking with my money. It helped me in the ring by letting me know what my opponent was planning and quickly counter.
It’s also the reason I had this dreadful feeling Nadia was up to no good.
At first, I ignored it. There’s no way Nadia could ever betray me, Pop, or the LBC as a whole.
From the moment she came to live with us, she became my sister.
Deck, Isla, and I welcomed her, Pop became her father figure, and in turn she became our biggest asset. Our most loyal ally.
But sometimes she gets text messages or calls that she has to leave the room to take. Sometimes, I watch her sneak out of the house, walking down the driveway instead of taking her car to risk waking us up. When I’d asked Isla and Deck, they said they’d notice it too.
“So, why don’t we confront her?” I’d ask.
“You’re being paranoid, Abby. Nadia would never do anything to jeopardize the gang or us.” Deck dismissed my worries. Then, Isla took my hand in hers.
“Look, I’m only telling you this to make you feel better. She doesn’t want anyone to know, but… she’s seeing someone.” That shocked me.
Nadia only did casual hookups and was notoriously afraid of commitment. She’d say it wasn’t her style, but I knew the truth. It terrified her, drove her mad, even thinking of getting close enough to someone. Giving them the chance to leave, abandon you, and break your heart in the process.
“Who? When did they start seeing each other?” I pressed. Isla paused.
“Oh, well, I… I don’t know.” She said. “You don’t know?” I was incredulous. How the hell would she not know?
After that, I set out to find this mystery person.
When she was out running errands for Pop, I was snooping in her room.
When she came home and showered, I was canvassing her phone.
At races, I would rifle through her car, searching for evidence of this person.
It made me feel dirty, invading her privacy like this, but I couldn’t shake this awful feeling in my gut.
And tonight? Tonight, I finally followed her.
She left at 11:39. Walked down the drive and continued for another half a mile until she got into the passenger seat of an idling car hidden in the trees.
It was too dark for me to make out the exact make and model.
I had to run back to the house and grab Pop’s Harley.
I knew I wouldn’t lose her, considering I shared her location with me on her phone and deleted the message.
God, I hope she would forgive me if I turned out to be wrong.
I didn’t catch up with her, not yet at least. Instead, I was watching the blue dot on my screen move further and further from the East side and into… Phantom territory.
_____
The West side felt wrong the second I crossed into it. Too loud. Too crowded. Too unfamiliar. I kept my hood up, sticking to shadows as I trailed her from a distance. When she pulled up to a house, already spilling music and bodies out onto the lawn, my stomach dropped.
A party. She’d come to a fucking party. On the West Side. On Phantom territory.
“What the fuck are you doing, Nadia?” I muttered under my breath.
Heart beating wildly, I watched as she got out as if she belonged there.
No hesitation, no nerves. Just walked right in.
That made it worse. I still couldn’t see her companion’s face.
All that I knew was that he was taller than her and had black hair.
The leather jacket he was wearing didn’t have a mark to show which gang he belonged to. Funnily enough, neither did Nadia’s.
Nadia, who wore her LBC cut religiously, grinned like a maniac when she got the symbol tattooed on her neck. She had stripped it off tonight. I waited a beat. Two. Then followed.
Getting in wasn’t hard. No one cared who you were as long as you weren’t causing problems. As long as you didn’t bear the mark of an enemy, you were free to drink, smoke, and shoot up whatever you’d like.
The music was loud enough to rattle my bones, bass thumping through the walls, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder.
It’s not that I hated parties; it’s that I knew I wasn’t safe here. I couldn’t put down my guard. I pushed through sweaty bodies, scanning faces, trying to spot her.
Kitchen, no.
Hallway, no.
Random back room, nothing.
My chest tightened. Then, I heard it. Laughter coming from the living room. I moved slower now, quieter, slipping along the wall until I reached the doorway. And then, I saw her. Nadia. On the couch. On him. My brain didn’t process it right away.
It just… froze.
Riven Devereaux was sprawled across the sectional as he owned it. One leg stretched out, foot planted on the floor, the other bent up on the coffee table. Lazy. Relaxed. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. And Nadia? Nadia was on top of him.
One leg hooked over his hip, the other stretched across his, resting on the table. Her hand was tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his arm wrapped tight around her waist, keeping her there like she wasn’t going anywhere.
They weren’t just kissing. They were gone. Lost in it. Like nothing else existed. Like there wasn’t a war between their sides. Like she wasn’t LBC. Like he wasn’t a Phantom. Like none of it mattered. My stomach dropped so hard it felt like I might be sick.
No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. Not him. Not him. Of all the fucking people in the goddamn world, she chose a Phantom. No, not just any fucking Phantom, the fucking Phantom.
I took a step back before I even realized I was moving. Then another. My chest was tight. Too tight. So tight that even breathing felt wrong. Because she lied. She snuck around. She crossed sides. For him.
My jaw clenched, nails digging into my palms as something hot and ugly twisted in my chest. Betrayal. Not just of the gang, but of us. Of me. I turned and walked out before they could see me. Before I did something I couldn’t take back.
_____
I didn’t go home. I went straight to Pop. He was in the garage, exactly where I expected him to be. Working. Always working.
“Pop.” My voice was sharper than I intended. He didn’t look up right away.
“Abby.” He said, wiping his grease-stained fingers on a rag.
“I need to talk to you.” That got his attention. Or maybe it was the way my voice trembled. In fear or violent anguish, I didn’t know. He set the rag down slowly, turning toward me. His eyes scanned my face, reading me the way he always did.
“What is it?” I hesitated for half a second.
“Nadia’s seeing someone.”
“I thought so. Would explain why she’s acting so strange. I don’t see why it’s an issue.” He crossed his arms.
“Do you know who it is?” I ask tentatively.
“No, it doesn’t matter. I trust her.” I go mute.
“What is it, Abby?” He presses.
I can’t bring myself to lie to him. He needs to know. I only hoped we could all survive the storm heading our way.
“It’s a Phantom.” Silence, heavy and immediate. His expression doesn’t change much, but I can sense it. The shift.
“Who?” It’s a demand, not a question. He was seething just as much, if not more, than I was. I swallowed and obliged him.
“Riven Devereaux.”
That did it. The air in the room changed instantly, replaced by something far colder and more dangerous.
“You’re sure?”
“I saw them.” My voice didn’t shake. I made sure of it.
“Tonight. At a party on the West Side.” His jaw tightened.
“Get Isla and Deck.” My stomach dropped. Because I knew what that meant.
_____
Nadia came home an hour later. She walked in like nothing happened. Like everything was normal. Like she didn’t just blow up her entire life.
“Hey-”
She started, but stopped the second she saw all of us in the living room. Me. Deck. Isla… and Pop. Waiting. A harrowing silence ensued. Her eyes flicked between us, sharp and calculating.
“What’s going on?” She crossed her arms, readying herself for battle. Because Nadia Slade was a fighter. A survivor. But even she couldn’t survive this.
“Where were you?” Pop asked. She didn’t hesitate.
“Out.”
“With who?” A beat passed.
“Friends.” My laugh cut through the room, harsh and humorless.
“Try again.” Her gaze snapped to mine.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I stepped forward.
“Try. Again .” Something in her expression hardened.
“By all means, say what you wanna say, Abby. You obviously have something to get off your chest.” Oh, I will.
“You wanna tell them,” I gestured around the room.
“Or should I?” Her jaw tightened.
“Tell us what?” Deck asked, confused. I didn’t take my eyes off her.
“Tell you that she’s been sneaking around. Lying. Crossing sides.”
“Nadia?” Isla’s voice was softer. Hurt.
“Tell them,” I repeated.
“I’m seeing someone.” She said after a minute. No apology. No hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered truth.
“Who?” Pop’s voice was deadly calm. “Riven.” Isla gasped, and Deck went still. Pop? He didn’t move.
“Say his last name.” Her chin lifted slightly. Defiantly.
“Devereaux.” That was the button that detonated us. Shattered us apart. The explosion was immediate.
“What the fuck are you thinking?” Deck snaps.
“A Phantom?” Isla’s voice rose, her calm demeanor cracking, letting the anger seep through.
“You’re screwing a Phantom?” She continues.
“It’s not like that-”
“Don’t lie!” I cut her off.
“I saw you, Nadia. Don’t you dare stand here and lie to us again.” Her eyes flashed.
“I’m not lying.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just betraying us!”
“I’m not-”
“You crossed into West Side territory for him!” I disregard her, continuing to chastise.
“And?” She argues. That word, that one word, set everything on fire.
“And?” I repeated, incredulous.
“And? That’s your answer?”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes everything!”
“It doesn’t change where my loyalty lies.”
“Really?” I laughed again.