Page 26 of Perdition

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“No talkie until after coffee,” Cheri mumbled from her stooped station by the Keurig, which was burbling and steaming as it made her coffee.

The room smelled of maple and pecans, which was Cheri’s favorite roast flavor.

“Sorsha’s coming, and she’s bringing No.27,” Em replied as she slid onto a stool at the peninsula separating Cheri’s galley kitchen from her small living room.

“Oh, good, because I am hungry as fuck, and their coffee is a hundred times better than this shit,” she said, lifting her mug before sliding onto the stool next to Em.

Cheri’s house was no bigger than 900 square feet, but the woman didn’t need more room than that. She was a confirmed bachelorette, took birth control like it was candy, and never let a man sleep over. She was the opposite of Em in that one man would never be enough for her, and the idea of birthing andraising kids was terrifying to her. She was happy being Auntie Cheri to Sorsha and Warwick, and she seriously kicked ass at it.

For Cheri, bar and bed hopping was her lifestyle of choice—no judgement from Em.

Em only ever wanted Madsen.

Too bad he doesn’t want you anymore….

Her breath caught at her own thought.

Was it true, did he really not want her anymore?

“You cannot let yourself be locked down with one person….”

He felt stuck with her, believed he had options, that she was no longer his one and only anything.

Had he already…?

Had he already slept with Sarah?

Had she been so focused on keeping herself together while they’d been apart that she missed the signs?

He hadn’t slept at home in nearly a month.

He rarely called or texted her, only ever replying to her if she contacted him first.

He stopped involving her in club activities or business—hell, she only knew about Locust’s party for Nadia, where she’d first seen how awkward things had gotten between her and Mads, because Nadia’s best friend, Vicki had mentioned it. Otherwise, Emily never would have known about it. Never would have been there to see Nadia and Locust reconcile—which had been a truly heartbreaking yet heartwarming moment. They’d overcome all the bullshit the club had put them through.

What Frost had put them through.

And they were now stronger than ever.

“You plan on waiting for little miss to get here before you start with the lip flapping? Cuz I’m sure there are things that need to be said that you don’t want your daughter to hear.”

Damn, Cheri was right, there was too much she didn’t want her kind-hearted, compassionate daddy’s girl to hear.

Like how her father might be a cheating asshole.

So, instead of waiting—even though she’d rather lick battery acid than speak a word about it—she told Cheri everything, from when the kids left home, and how the dynamic with Mads changed, how he pulled away, started acting like a totally different man, how he was getting too close to a younger woman, how he’d taken that woman to their red maple, and the sum total of what she’d overheard the day before.

By the time Emily was finished, she was a sobbing wreck. Her chest hurt from the panting and heaving, her eyes hurt from the crying and rubbing, and her head hurt from the untreated hangover and having to remember and relive the highlights from her slowly crumbling marriage.

After a long, heavy silence, Cheri asked, her voice soft, “So, what do you want to do now? You know I’ll support you however you need me to, babe.”

Em, taking only a moment to consider her next move, allowed the simmering rage inside her to spill into her veins.

Her voice hard, her determination sharp, she answered, “I need the key to your storage shed.”

NINE

Sittingon the edge of his untouched bed in his clubhouse suite, Frost stared at the black, empty screen on the cell in his hands, and prayed to every god he could think of that his wife would call him back.