Page 22 of Shattering Nash

Nash’s lips twitched. “Not yet, sir.”

Sal burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Not many appreciate it, and most men fear it, but I do love that woman’s spirit.”

“Is there an issue?” Oz asked.

He didn’t have the report with him. He didn’t need it. Oz could trust his word.

“Possibly.” Nash paused. “We have a delicate situation.”

Oz raised his brows, and Nash continued.

“Cyrus brought it to my attention. He was reviewing the police logs. A unit was sent to the home of one of Elle’s employees.”

“Who?” Oz asked.

“Charley Hudson.”

Sal turned in his chair. “The pretty, blue-eyed girl on the balcony?”

Nash nodded, and Sal smirked. “So you agree she’s pretty?”

Nash flattened his lips and didn’t respond. Pretty was an understatement, but Nash wouldn’t argue. Sal was known for teasing all the men, but Nash wasn’t about to walk into the trap with Oz watching.

“As you were saying, Charley?” Oz said.

“A 9-1-1 call was made by a neighbor reporting a disturbance. Possible domestic.”

Oz’s eyes darkened. “What does the report say?”

“There is no report.”

Sal knitted his brows, taking a drag from the cigar. “For a possible domestic? Isn’t it protocol to make an arrest in that situation?”

“Yes,” Oz answered before Nash, and his tone was laced with suspicion. They were on the same page. “You have a contact?”

Nash nodded. “Already left a message. Just waiting to hear back. Considering how close she is with Elle, I assumed you’d want this looked into right away.”

Oz slowly nodded, keeping his gaze locked on Nash. “I do.”

“I was thinking of asking Elle if Charley had mentioned anything, and...”

Oz didn’t let him finish.

“No,” Oz snapped, pointing at Nash, making himself clear. “This doesn’t involve her.”

It wasn’t Nash’s place to dispute Oz, though he was sure Elodie would disagree. But Oz was territorial and overprotective of Elodie. As her pregnancy prolonged, it only grew deeper. No precaution was spared when it came to the Queen of the Underground and her well-being.

Chapter Four

Charley glanced up at the clock when she heard the doorbell ring. It wasn’t like Keely to be early for anything. However, this was a special occasion. Her friend was beyond excited that they were finally going to the club. She had fielded over a dozen calls, confirming all the details and a promise that she wouldn’t back out. It was fair. If Charley could’ve come up with a sure-fire excuse not to go, she would have used it. Unlike Keely, Charley was dreading tonight.

She’d taken Elodie up on her offer and stopped in the shop. It was still closed for renovations, but the workers had all left for the day. The stock was being stored in the apartment above the store. They’d tried to organize it, but it took a while to sift through the inventory. Charley knew most of the pieces, but they’d recently gotten in a few dresses. She had a specific design in mind. It had to have a mock turtleneck to cover her bruising. Unfortunately, they hadn’t faded as quickly as she would’ve liked and were too dark to cover with makeup.

Charley found a simple black dress with a high neck and brought it home. She’d tried it on, but it was a bit too much for her. While it did cover her neck, it was skintight, accentuating all her curves. She probably could’ve overlooked that aspect had it not been for the large circular cut out on the back. It dipped dangerously close to her ass. She had a more conservative style. She opted for a pair of black pants and a pink blouse that matched her scarf.

She walked down the hall, passing her brother’s room. She was still in the process of packing his stuff into boxes. Her eviction deadline was coming up fast.

Charley opened the door and immediately tensed. Her brother’s choice in friends was much like some of his life choices. Bad. Her brother didn’t have many, but of the few, Zeke was her least favorite. There was something about him. A shadiness. Weren’t all drug dealers shady? Charley had long suspected his connection to her brother. His random appearances always coincided with Cody’s relapses. It’d been mere speculation without an ounce of proof. Until now.Perfect timing, Zeke. Asshole.

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