Page 50 of Wicked Lies

Nick returned to his bedroom, eased against the headboard, closed his eyes, and saw Cheryl’s face. He had just had her, and all he could think about was having her again. Her scent was in the room. It surrounded him. It taunted him and held him captive.

Most women he’d been with were like a bad porn movie, screaming, gasping, and saying things about his dick even he didn’t believe. But with Cheryl, it was all soft murmurs and passionate sighs—an honesty that couldn’t be faked.

16

Later that night, Nick rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension in his neck as Jax perched on the edge of his desk. “I still can’t believe it.” Jax blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “I knew there was something up with her, but stabbing Jimmy? Then seeing Frank finish the job? That is fucked up.”

“The fuckwad deserved it,” Nick said.

“What do you think is gonna happen with Angela?” Jax asked.

Nick glanced at Jax. Although he’d filled him in on the whole scene, the man usually kept his thoughts to himself.

“She left me a very detailed text this morning explaining exactly what I could do with the club and her job,” Nick drawled. “I think it’s physically impossible, but the bottom line is, she quit.”

“So how much new barware do I have to order?” Jax ground his cigarette into the ashtray.

“Took her anger out on the vase in the foyer.” Nick shrugged. “Ain’t a good fight unless somebody breaks something, right?”

“Thank fuck, I hated that thing,” Jax added.

“And of course, she reminded me Cheryl was with Jimmy first.”

“Jealous women do the best research. Better than the fuckin’ CIA,” Jax observed. “Did Angela mention Frank at all?”

Nick furrowed his brow. “Why would she?”

“Frank was the one who put her here, and you and her . . .”

Nick sat up straighter reached for the water bottle on his desk. “So what are you saying, Angela was fuckin’ me on Frank’s orders?”

“Nah, forget it.”

Jax’s comment made the muscles in Nick’s chest contract again. Even the big swig of water didn’t dilute Jax’s remark, especially since Angela insinuated the same thing.

“So just to be clear, you and Cheryl . . .” Samson cocked his head.

Nick didn’t fuckin’ understand it. A week ago he hadn’t even known her. Then she flung herself into his life, patched up his arm, fucked him into a coma, and spat out a confession that would make most men run for cover. Then after off-the-wall, dick-pounding sex, she walked out on him. Not the traditional beginning to a new relationship but—she was all he could think about, and he definitely wasn’t letting her go, no matter how many logical reasons she threw his way.

“You got a problem with that?” Nick snapped.

“Not the way you think.” Samson waited a beat.

“Explain.”

“She saw Frank off Jimmy, and he knows she saw him, and he’s fuckin’ holding it over her head. So yeah, she could definitely be a liability.”

Nick stood and came around the desk, hoping the movement would quiet the twitching in his gut.

“Why her anyway?” Jax blew out a sharp breath. “Is she so good in the sack you’re willing to—”

Nick stepped to Jax. “Shut it.” Anger turned the two words ugly. It was goddamn irrational, but again, the impulse to protect Cheryl unraveled him and made reasonable thinking impossible.

Jax could’ve easily taken him out. He had at least fifty pounds on him, but the larger man stepped off.

“I didn’t mean nothing by it,” Jax mumbled.

Nick cracked his neck from side to side. “I’m a little on edge.”

---