Page 3 of Treachery

After emptying her bladder and taking a quick shower in the en-suite bathroom, she dressed in a change of clothes she’d brought in a small duffel; James had wanted her to stay the night, and she hadn’t been to room before, so she’d agreed. She wasn’t sure if his room at the clubhouse was where he actually lived, or if he just crashed there; they spent all their time together at her place, and it hadn’t really bothered her until right then. Though, seeing his place would make things seem more official between them.

Checking her hair in the mirror, she gave herself a once over.

Big hazel eyes set in a round face. Round cheeks. Freckles splashed over the bridge of her long, thin nose. Hair the color of dirty straw pulled back into a messy ponytail because she didn’t want to take the time to dry it, then braid it. The rest of her wasn’t all that great to look at, either; she was plump in all the wrong places, big tits, fat ass but a smallish waist. No, she wasn’t a looker—not like the women from the party last night, but there had to be something about her that was good enough, because Locust had taken one look at her and had fallen for her. That’s what he’d said when he’d first asked her out on the side of the highway after helping her put on her spare tire.

Never in her life had she taken such a risk as she had when she’d agreed to go out with him.

That was five months ago.

Since then, she’d fallen so hard, she was surprised she didn’t have bruised knees from where she landed. She’d never been happier than she was in that moment, having finally beenintroduced to the place and lifestyle that meant the most to James. It was the next natural step in their relationship. And the step after that was introducing him to her family….

If her wayward step-brother ever came home…. He’d been gone three years already, having taken off after leaving her with a note, a lousy excuse, and a heart full of ache. She hadn’t heard from him in over eight months, and even then, it was a text asking for money. She’d sent it to him via PayPal and hadn’t heard a word since. It wasn’t a surprise, though; Elijah was too much like his father—a nomad with a penchant for losing money quick. If he wasn’t playing tables at the casino, he was placing bets on horses at the adjacent track. And losing. Elijah was a charmer who couldn’t say no to a “good tip,” which often left him broke, owing money, and begging Nadia to “lend him” some cash. Lend? Right. He hadn’t paid her back yet. And yet she still gave him something when he called asking for it.

Yeah, she was a sucker, but he was the only family she had left. And she had the cash to give, so why not give it?

The year Elijah took off, she’d won a jackpot on her first and only time at the casino. She’d gone there to attend a bachelorette party for one of her co-workers, and she’d left $3 million dollars richer. A natural planner, she’d kept the knowledge of the win to herself, then set out to plan the best way to invest her money. She’d moved out of the trailer where she’d been living, moved to Pennsylvania from New York, bought a house, bought herself a reliable new-to-her car, then put the rest in savings. Realistically, she didn’t have to work, but she enjoyed having a purpose, something to do that fulfilled her need to “thrive.” So, once she was settled in PA, she got a job at an exclusive golf course resort, Emerald Greens. She’d been hired as a housekeeper initially, and in the three years since had risen through the ranks to the front desk manager—aka, the head concierge. She loved the people she worked with, she enjoyedinteracting the with the club members, and she didn’t mind the hours. The worst part of it, though, were the Botox Barbies; the wives of the rich members who seemed to make it their life’s work to order her and the other staff around. They made ridiculous demands, were never happy with anything, and didn’t bother hiding the fact that they were banging the golf instructorsandthe maintenance men.

God, how had her thoughts spiraled so quickly? Rolling her eyes at herself, she left the mirror behind and checked the clock on the bedside table. It was just after 7 AM. Usually, on a Saturday, she’d still be asleep, but she was too excited about spending the day with James, and getting to know his club brothers.

She opened the door and headed down the corridor to the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she noticed the main room that had been crammed full of people the night before was all but abandoned now. There was one guy at the bar nursing a mug of bitter smelling coffee, and another guy watching the morning news on a massive TV by the couches where she and James had hung out last night. The guy at the bar was wearing a different leather vest—kutte—than the Unchained, but he seemed friendly with the club.

James wasn’t there, so she figured he’d either be in a meeting—what he called Church—or in the kitchen; the man loved his bacon and eggs. Smiling to herself, she took a moment to remember where James had said the kitchen was during his brief tour the night before.

Turning the corner from the bar area, she headed down another corridor and saw the swinging door to the kitchen. It was cracked, the wood warped at the top, keeping it from shutting all the way.

She heard James’s voice, and her tummy flipped just at the sound of it; it was rich whiskey, slowly poured over meltingice. She shuddered, remembering that voice rasping against her mouth and neck the night before, telling her how beautiful she was, how tight and hot her pussy was, and how he couldn’t get enough of her….

Reaching out to push the door open and go greet her man with a good morning kiss, she was stopped in her tracks by another man’s voice.

And his words.

“…you hit that yet?” a voice she recognized as Cluster’s asked. Nadia cocked her head, wondering who he was talking to and about.

“We aren’t talkin’ about that, brother,” James replied, making Nadia’s breath catch. They were talking abouther? She blinked. Well, at least he hadn’t answered Cluster’s crude, inappropriate question. What she and James did was private?—

“Yeah, I can see by that look on your face that you did—fuck. Man,” Cluster hissed, “you are one tough motherfucker, taking one for the team like that.” The man chuckled, the sound grating against her suddenly tautly strung nerves.

What was he saying? Takingwhatfor the team? What team? For a moment, Nadia’s chest grew tight, her thoughts spiraling. No…they couldn’t he talking about her and James.

Suddenly, her skin felt too tight for her bones, and her clothes felt too thin, like they didn’t cover enough; they weren’t thick enough to protect her, shield her.

Hide her.

James grunted, probably from Cluster slapping him on the back as was his usual method of communication among the brothers. She’d met Cluster a couple of times because he’d come to her house to talk to James about club business, which usually meant James would take off to deal with said business. To her, Cluster always heralded a less than happy ending to her evenings.

Cluster spoke again, his words mean, “Icouldn’t do it, and I fucked Marci. That bitch was as loose as Mel—and that woman had six kids! You banging that Nadia chick…you get hazard pay for that, brother?” He laughed, like he hadn’t just said something that tore a piece off her soul.

A slow, coiling realization took form in her mind. A chill shot through her, making Nadia shudder, even as her skin heated with embarrassment. They were talking about James…having sex? Withher?

But why? Her throat worked to swallow but her mouth was dry.

“I did what had to be done, brother,” James said, effectively making Nadia’s breath actually stop.

He did what had to be done? He didher…because it had to be done…shehad to be done….

What the hell did that mean?

Why is he saying those things?

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