Page 30 of Perdition
He’d taken another woman to his and Em’s sacred place, for fuck’s sake!
Fuck, he was exhausted, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with Sarah and her accompanying bullshit.
“Too far? We’re friends—close friends. I was hurting and you helped me…and I wanted to help you.” She shrugged. “Is that so wrong?”
He snorted a humorless laugh. “You didn’thelpme, Sarah…but that wasn’t your fault; it was mine. What was said in that office, what we’ve been doing over the last couple of months…it shouldn’t be happening.”
Sarah gasped, throwing her hands out to grasp Frost’s forearm in a tight grip, like she was trying to claw back something that was slipping through her fingers.
“Don’t say that—we didn’t do anything wrong! I could tell you were hurting, that your marriage is?—”
“None of your goddamn business, Sarah,” Frost finished for her, his voice gravel on a sheet of steel. “You need to let this go.”
Taking her wrists in his grip, he threw her hands from his body. Her touch burned his skin, and not in the way Emily’s touch did, like she was branding him as hers alone.
“You don’t mean that, Frost!” she bleated, her blue eyes filling with tears.
God, he felt like shit. He never should have let things get this bad; guilt and ego-greed were poison, and he’d been drinking it down, drop by drop.
“Emily’s just jealous!” Sarah snapped. “She can’t be what you need so she’s being a bitch?—”
Frost let out a growl so menacing it made the clubhouse vibrate.
“You keep my wife’s name out of your mouth,” he snarled, making Sarah’s face pale.
But she wasn’t done saying dumb shit. “Why not? It’s the truth! She’s mad that we’re friends because she knows that what I said was true—you have options, and you chose?—”
“To end this fucking conversation before I shame my grandda and lay my hands on a woman in anger.” Once again, Frost finished for her.
And it was finished. All of it. Every disgraceful, disappointing thing he’d allowed happen over the last year…. He was done with it all.
And the first step was putting the clubwhore in her place.
Taking Sarah by the shoulders, he pushed her into the hallway, away from his room, and pointed toward the common room.
“They may have done things different in the Bone Dogz, but here, the clubwhores get three strikes. So far, you’ve disrespected my ol’ lady—and that’s strike one. I’m a fair man, so instead of kicking you to the curb, I’m gonna give you two more shots. You keep your ass clean, keep things respectful, you can stay. But you keep comin’ ‘round me when I tell you to step the fuck away, or you speak my wife’s name in anyway other than how you would speak to a queen, that’s a strike against you—and if you get a third strike, you’re not just out of here, you’re done in every way possible.”
Leaning down to get in her face, his expression hard as iron, waves of rage and authority pouring from him, he bit out, “You get me?”
Sarah nodded frantically, her eyes still wide, her mouth in a thin, ugly line.
“Get gone,” he ordered, pulling back to cross his arms in a way that conveyed that he meant exactly what he said.
Turning on her heel, Sarah hurried down the hallway to the stairs leading up into the attic bedroom that all the clubwhores shared.
Slamming the door behind him, Frost snatched Em’s kutte off the bed, shoved his cell into his pocket, and headed out to get his woman back.
TEN
For the firsttime in years, Emily took the day off from work.
She couldn’t bring herself to go into the office and face her employees and customers without breaking down and terrifying everyone with her already red, blotchy, ugly cry face.
God, she was so tired of crying. It did nothing but make her face wet, her eyes swollen, and her headache. It didn’t solve her problems or even make them seem like they weren’t all that bad.
But she couldn’t deny that things were bad…and they were going to get worse.
She could feel it, that creeping dread, like Chaos was standing over her shoulder, waiting to stir the pot and make shit catch fire.