Page 19 of Treachery

What the fuck?

Ignoring Sarah and the obvious grab for attention, Locust kept his eyes on Frost. “You wanted me here in fifteen, and I’m here.” He crossed his arms over his chest, thrusting his chin up impatiently. “What did you want to discuss?”

Frost turned to Sarah and smiled softly, “Why don’t you grab a beer, chill? I’ll come out once I’m done here.”

Sarah’s smile could probably be seen from the moon, and Locust couldn’t wrap his head around what the fuck was happening right before his eyes as he watched Frost tap his fingertip against the woman’s chin.

What the hell am I watching?

Sarah giggled, sauntered around the desk—her hips swinging provocatively, and strolled right out the door.

Locust closed the door behind her, but not before checking to make sure she was down the hall where she wouldn’t be listening at the door. The woman was a clubwhore from a patched over MC, she couldn’t be trusted not to be a plant, there to get information on the club she could sell to who the fuck ever.

What the hell was Frost thinking? Turning to ask the man just that, he was stopped by the red-cheeked rage on the man’s face, and the muscle-bulging tension coming off him in waves.

“You better fucking explain to me why my wife came home tonight and told me I was a motherfucking piece of shit for ordering you to fuck Nadia Thompson for money.”

Locust’s mouth dropped open, but nothing came out; his voice lost somewhere in the cavity of his chest.

“How the fuck did she find out, Locust?” Frost bellowed, slamming his fists into his desk, which made the bottle of rye nearly tip right onto the floor.

A memory from earlier that day shot into his forebrain, and he cursed.

“Emily must have talked to Nadia,” he replied, knowing he was in the shit.

Frost furrowed his brow, the lines around his eyes deepening.

“First, how the fuck do you know that, and second, what the hell was Emily doing anywhere near Nadia? Those women shouldn’t have been within ten miles of each other.” Frost dropped down into his desk chair, cast a longing glance atthe Willett, but then thrust his fingers through his blonde hair instead of reaching for it.

“Nadia is the concierge at Emerald Greens. Emily’s business works with venues for weddings and shit, right? Maybe she was supplying flowers for a wedding.” That’s exactly what she’d been doing. She’d brought the van with Flower’s Blooms painted in pinks and golds on the side, that meant she had a delivery. That was probably where she ran into Nadia, but because he hadn’t planted cameras in her office—yet—he had no idea what they’d talked about exactly.

“That doesn’t explain how you fucking know they met up today,” Frost said, his tone demanding answers.

Shit, shit, shit!

Heaving a sigh, Locust sat down, his weight plummeting like a stone into the chair across from Frost.

“I was outside Emerald Greens?—”

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” Frost snarled. “You were told to stay the fuck away from Nadia Thompson. You blatantly disregarded orders?—”

Pushing to his feet again, he interrupted, “I didn’t approach her, talk to her, or touch her. I was justwatching….” He rubbed at his face. “I can’tnotwatch her, Frost.” Damn, he sounded fucking pathetic—and hewas, he’d admit that. He wasnothingwithout Nadia.

“Yeah, well, Nadia told Emily about what went down, and now….” Frost cursed, closing his eyes. Locust watched as the man’s whole body seemed to deflate right before his eyes. “She…she told me to sleep here tonight.”

Shocked was an understatement; Emily had always hated being separated from Frost, had always been adamant that Frost delegate any out-of-town runs that weren’t necessary for the prez to take on. She was a good ol’ lady, supportive, and the heart of the club with Frost as its head. So, to hear thatEmily wanted Frost gone, even for a single night…it was fucking staggering.

This ain’t good….

“That’s…that’s not right, brother,” Locust offered, unsure what the hell to say. Locust had no business offering any man advice about making his woman happy; he was still so deep in the doghouse with his own, he was getting mange.

Frost shook his head, and the waves of anger engulfing him softened to something like…sorrow. Grief.

“No…it’s not, but…. What the fuck am I supposed to do about it?”

“What do you mean? Did Emily tell you what Nadia said exactly? From what I know, Nadia doesn’t know anything other than what she overheard me spewing to Cluster, and then whatever you told her when she came here with that burner cell.”

Frost looked fucking rough; Emily had been his whole world for decades, and now….

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