Page 18 of Treachery

I’m fucked either way….

Remembering he was still on the line—pun intended—with Frost, he forced himself to answer. Gritting his teeth, Locust replied, “I’m out,” not willing to give more than that. At Frost’s grunt of displeasure, Locust silently swore, then continued, “I have two days until the next club run, so I’m taking today and tomorrow for my own shit.”

Frost growled, “No, you’re coming back here, because we have some shit to discuss—andthatisn’t up for discussion,brother.”

Before Locust could even open his mouth todiscussany-fucking-thing, Frost hung up.

“Motherfucker,” Locust spat, tossing his cell into the passenger seat, then gripping the steering wheel with enough force to make the leather cover squeak under his hands.

What the fuck did Frost want to discuss? Had he caught on to what Locust was doing? Nah…Locust was very good at hiding his business…which was what made him such a good infiltrator. It was what made him so good at seducing, manipulating, and spying on Nadia. She hadn’t known a damn thing about his mission…until she overheard him.

And how long could you have kept her in the dark, anyway?

A growl rumbled through his chest at the thought.

Grabbing the cellphone, he scanned his thumbprint to bypass the security screen Red had installed, and clicked back to the camera display.

Nadia wasn’t in the living room anymore, though the plate of food was still there, getting cold. The TV was still on, though Matthew Goode’s ugly mug was paused mid-laugh, his head thrown back.

Where is she?

Clicking through the tabs labeled with the different rooms, he finally found her, in the bedroom, staring into her closet.

Zooming in, he couldn’t fathom what she’d be glaring at in there, nor why she looked so spooked.

Maybe she’s starting to figure out that you’re watching her?It wasn’t like he hadn’t basically told her he knew she hadn’t eaten; it probably freaked her out, but not enough that she’d throw the food away.

She loves Sunny Lee’s too much to toss it in the garbage….

The phone buzzed again, this time it was a text from Frost telling him he had fifteen minutes to be in his office, or he’d be doing prospect duties for a week.

Motherfucking shit!As much as he wanted to stare at his woman mean mugging the interior of her walk-in closet, he didn’t want to be stuck cleaning clubhouse toilets for the next week.

Starting his truck, he pulled away from the curb, and with one last, lingering look at the house where his heart was beating, he headed toward the clubhouse.

As he turned onto Highland Ave, on his way to I-81, he couldn’t stop the rising dread from hitting him in the chest; a fear that something was waiting for him in Frost’s office. And…he couldn’t stop picturing Nadia’s face as she stood there looking into the closet.

Fourteen minutes later—just under the buzzer—Locust strode through the door to the common room. It was a busy night, with brothers drinking, playing cards, getting BJs from a few hangaround regulars, or just shootin’ the shit by the bar. There were two of the patch overs, Malo and Rust, from Bone Dogz, at the bar chatting with Cluster as Tornado watched on—he looked about as pleased to be there as a cat would feel in a room full of snakes.

Locust didn’t have time to stop and ask Tornado what the fuck was up, but he’d make a point to talk to him later. After he sat down with Frost for whatever it was the man wanted todiscuss.

The door to Frost’s office was closed, so Locust knocked. Almost immediately, Frost called, “Come the fuck in, no one’s got time for this shit!”

His shoulders tensing, he pushed opened the door and nearly backed right the fuck out of the room.

One of the new girls the Bone Dogz brought with them was sitting on the desk—her ass in a pair of booty shorts that left nothing to the imagination—next to a bottle of Willett Family Estate Rye and a nearly empty tumbler. Willett wasn’t cheap, and it was a little more sophisticated than what most of the brothers drank, and it was something Locust knew Frost only ever drank when he was pissed.

The woman from the desk stood up, turned so her barely covered ass was right in Frost’s face, and planted a coy smile on her perfectly contoured face. She was definitely a pro at making herself look done up, just the way most of the brothers liked. Locust already knew without a single word that she was trouble…and what the fuck was she going in the prez’s office, door shut, ass on his desk, looking like she was right where she was supposed to be?

Clearing his throat, he rumbled, “Prez?” His gaze flicked to the woman, who leaned over the desk, showing the slopes of her tits from a top with only two of the six buttons actually buttoned. If she wasn’t trolling for dick, he didn’t know what the hell she was doing—but she wasn’t getting anywhere nearhisdick.

Is she getting Frost’s dick? What about Emily?Yeah, they were bikers, but one thing that set them apart from most MCs was their loyalty to their brothers and their own families. That meant that there hadn’t been a single mention of Frost with a woman other than his wife, Emily, since he’d patched in at twenty-one—twenty-four years ago. That was a long time to be faithful, only to start fucking around now.

Something else had to be going on, right?

“Hey,” the scantily glad female chirped, her smile growing. “I’m Sarah—I’m new here. Frost has been sowelcoming….”

Yeah, he didn’t miss the emphasis on that word. He quirked an eyebrow, his gaze flicking back to Frost, who was glaring at Locust like he’d walked in on something he shouldn’t have.