Page 18 of Perdition (Unchained Hearts #4)

ELEVEN

After a day of lazing, binging shows and carbs, and just generally feeling like a lump, she hadn’t expected to get the call she did.

“Um…Em,” Tina murmured over the line, sounding nervous. “There’s a customer here who wants to place a big order for next month, but she won’t talk to anyone but you about it.”

Em sighed.

Apparently, being the boss meant that even on her one day off, she really couldn’t take the day off.

Which was okay…because there were only so many times she could wipe the salt and grease off her fingers before she really started feeling gross. And as much as she said she enjoyed a good Passionflix binging sesh, there were only so many times one could cringe while watching two people kissing.

Yeah, she was one of those people; the type that enjoyed sex but shied away from watching other people show affection.

She’d always been that way, too. What was worse than seeing people kissing and getting all up and personal was hearing it.

For her, hearing people kissing was as close to awkward Hell as she could get—all that smacking, the wet slurping, and the heavy breathing… .

She shuddered just thinking about it.

“Em?” Tina’s nervous voice shook Emily from the straight up weirdness of her own thoughts.

Tossing aside the bag of white cheddar popcorn she’d just emptied, she replied, “Is she willing to wait thirty minutes?”

There was a moment of muffled conversation, then, “Yes.” Then more muffled sounds, then Tina whispered, “Em…I’m not so sure about this customer.”

Wariness ping-ponged down Em’s back. “What do you mean?” she asked as she hurried to the guest room to put on clothes that weren’t stained in shame and carb gluttony.

Tina answered, her voice still quiet, tense, “She doesn’t seem like she really wants to talk about flowers.”

Em pauses her efforts to tug up her jeans. “What else would she come to a florist for?”

There’s a moment of silence, then Tina replied, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just think it’s weird that she’s refusing to talk to me or Maria about a flower order.”

Maria was a skilled and talented flower artist, and was a trusted assistant manager, someone Em depended on to get things done when Em had other responsibilities to deal with.

More often than not, when Em was on-site at weddings, arranging the flowers and handling the bridezilla and her mother, Maria was back at the store, handling business.

Maria also lived a block from the store, so she’d get there faster than Em could.

“She doesn’t want to speak with Maria?” Em asked to clarify, confused and now more wary than ever.

“No,” Tina said, “she says she’ll only talk to you. Like…she’s adamant about it.”

Once again, Em sighed, shaking her head.

“Fine. Give me thirty.”

Em finished the call, tugged on her shoes, and headed to her car.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, her gaze caught on the rearview mirror, and her thoughts immediately jump to what she’d stowed in the back of her Durango the night before, right before she determined to forget her own name by way of wine and silent weeping.

That didn’t take long, thankfully, but she’d spent too long that morning suffering for last night’s “forgetting.”

Pointing her Durango toward Flower’s Blooms, Em refused to let her mind wander to things best left to consider until she wasn’t concerned about whatever was going on at her shop.

You’ll have to talk to him eventually , that too reasonable for the moment voice chirped, like that annoying noise the smoke detector made when the battery was low.

And it just kept beeping.

As much as you’re hurting right now, he’s your husband, your forever—and you deserve an explanation.

Grunting and rolling her eyes at her own inner voice, Em muttered, “Ugh, I hate it when you’re right.”

She’d call him tomorrow—and if he didn’t answer, which had become habit with him over the last several months—she’d kick his ass!

It didn’t take long to get to the shop from Cheri’s place, and once she parked her SUV and slid out, she was immediately hit with a dread so fierce, her breath caught, and she nearly stumbled into the side of her car.

Taking a deep breath, she blinked, righted herself, and slowly made her way through the glass door with the OPEN sign front and center.

As soon as the door opened and Em stepped inside, she understood the dread.

Sarah.

That woman was standing in the middle of the shop, her arms crossed over her chest, which was pushed up and out thanks to her youth and whatever miraculous bra she’d put on that morning.

Probably after rolling out of an Unchained bed.

Before Em could turn around and walk the hell out—forget dealing with her bullshit—Sarah turned and pinned her narrow blue eyes on Em.

And Em immediately knew Sarah wasn’t there to order flowers.

“Took you long enough,” Sarah sneered, huffing as she rolled her eyes.

What a fucking brat.

Ignoring the woman for as long as she could, she turned toward the back of the shop, past the fridges that held the ready-made bouquets, and past the displays of local handmade vases she was selling on consignment.

Tina was standing at the counter, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. Concern flashed over her face as her gaze flicked back to and stayed on Emily.

“Tina,” she called, a soft smile on her lips, “go ahead and clock out. I’ll lock up once I’m done here.”

Tina furrowed her brows. “Are you sure?” Her gaze flicked back to a glaring Sarah, who hadn’t bothered taking her eyes from Em, as if she was waiting for Emily to pounce on her.

If she were anyone else, she would have, but she was—at the very least—a woman of class, especially in her place of business.

“Okay,” Tina replied hesitantly. “By the way, Officer Copper stopped by again. Asked after you.”

At hearing that name, her mind conjured an image of the younger man, sexy and all-American, and flirtatious. Harmless.

He often stopped by her shop while he was patrolling in the area…and sometimes when he wasn’t. She enjoyed his attention, but she knew she’d never go there with him.

She couldn’t. She was married.

Didn’t stop your husband from fucking around with Sarah….

But he hadn’t gone that far…right?

Terrifying enough, she felt like, in that moment, the answer was going to hit her like an oak tree pulled up by the roots during a tornado.

Forcing a smile, Em waved at Tina. “Thanks for letting me know.” She waited until Tina grabbed her purse from the back office and headed toward the door. “See you tomorrow.”

Tina turned, relief on her face. “Glad to hear you’re coming in. Today was easy but I can’t imagine what would have happened if there was a dahlia emergency, and you weren’t here to deal with it.”

Em chuckled, remembering their last dahlia emergency—the bride for a local wedding wanted dahlia’s but what she really wanted was tulips, but they’d already ordered ten dozen dahlias—and said, “No worries. Today was enough for me. I’ll be here to open tomorrow.”

Tina nodded, cast one last warily curious glance at Sarah, then headed out for the night.

Once the door swung shut behind Tina, Sarah jumped in with both feet.

“I know you heard us yesterday, me and Frost,” she said, her voice grating on Em’s nerves like steel dragging over concrete.

She knew the Em had heard? How was that possible?

Sarah huffed. “I could see you from where I was sitting, standing out in the hallway, all ugly and sad.”

Suddenly less wary and more warrior, Em grit her teeth and snapped, “You’re such a bitch. You knew I was standing there and still said all that shit about my husband having options?—”

“That’s because he does,” Sarah shrilled, planting her hands on her hips.

“I mean, look at you!” Sarah gestured at all of Em with a disgusted sneer on her face.

“You’re fat, dress like an old lady, have skin like sandpaper, and look like you’d rather stay home and bake than go to an Unchained party. ”

Affronted, a sickening sensation oozed through her.

Was this what Mads thought, too?

Humiliation seared through her, making her face heat and her shoulders tense.

She refused to let this woman see that she got to her.

Again, Sarah huffed haughtily. “Frost has been with you for years and now that he’s finally hit his peak, he deserves a woman at his side that doesn’t look like…

well… you . You don’t fit him, Emily. He’s hot as fuck, rides like a dream, and is the president of a club of bikers.

” That disgusted sneer was back. “And you…well…you gave up long ago, and it shows. You honestly think that you don’t embarrass him at club parties?

I bet he doesn’t even stand next to you when the club meets up, right?

And he doesn’t invite you to club events anymore, and that’s because he knows you won’t come—I guess you’re too busy in your sweatpants and gross t-shirts, eating cookies and your pride—to come and support your man. ”

Unable to speak for the lump of shame and anger lodged in her throat, she didn’t stop Sarah from continuing.

Sarah snorted, giggling. “Wait, I bet you don’t even know that we’re having a costume party at Cool Hands next weekend.”

Struck, Emily almost flinched. In fact, she really had not known.

Why hadn’t anyone told her?

No, she wasn’t as involved in the club recently, but she was still the prez’s old lady, his woman, so she expected to still be on the list of immediate invites.

Maybe they just assumed you’d know, that Frost would tell you.

Right, because he’d been real chatty lately.

You haven’t been all that chatty with him lately, either.

Too true. And all sorts of wrong.

Seriously, where the hell had she’d gone wrong?

She wasn’t as emersed in the club as she once was—she’s been the party planner, the go to, the fixer—for years.

It wasn’t until Flower’s Blooms took off that she’d started taking a step back from being so busy with the club.

She’d handed off some of the responsibilities to Sasha, who’d been Tornado’s woman at the time, but she’d been banned from the club—and the state—for the bullshit she pulled with Patriot’s woman, Cilla.

That had been a lesson in trusting people just because they were club affiliated and supposedly vetted.

Now, she knew that Cilla and her best friend, Stephie, Horde’s old lady, had taken over the party planning and clubhouse management.

She hated to say that she didn’t know the woman as well as she wanted to, but her life outside of the club had taken her by the tits and was pulling her further and further away from what was once her second home.

Sarah snickered, the sound a tad too much like a snuffling Chihuahua.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you had no idea about the party.” She sounded entirely too smug about that.

“I know about it, I just haven’t decided if I’m going or not.” The lie didn’t even convince her.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah crossed her arms, and lifted her chin.

“Don’t bother. You wouldn’t fit in, and even if you did find a costume that fit over your big ass and wide hips, you honestly think you’d look good standing next to Frost?

Do you honestly think he wouldn’t be embarrassed to have you there?

Seriously, Emily, you should just forget about being the president’s old lady and focus on what you’re good at—playing in your little garden like a fat gnome. ”

With a gleam in her eye that made Em’s heart stop, Sarah landed a final blow. “He took me to your tree…but you know that, because you were listening, right?”

There was the giggling again. “You know he fucked me under that tree, don’t you?”

Her heart died right then.

Finally finding her voice, she rasped, “He wouldn’t do that; he’s not a cheater.”

Momentarily relieved that she hadn’t sobbed those words, that relief died in the next instant.

“Oh? Then how do I know about the mole on his left ass cheek—nice, tight ass, by the way. When he fucks me hard, I like to dig my nails into it.”

Shaking her head, Em refused to believe what this woman—this homewrecker—was saying.

“That doesn’t mean anything?—”

“What about the tattoo of a rosebud and a rifle on his left hip…right below his waistband?”

That tattoo…it symbolized them, Mads and Emily; a supposedly permanent display of how important their relationship was to Mads. Something only they would ever see, as special to them as their spot was. As special as their red maple, one planted by their own hands, had been.

But now…it was all tainted.

Unable to swallow, Emily couldn’t stop her mouth from filling with bile.

“How would I know about those things unless I saw him with his pants down?”

Stunned. Speechless. Heartbroken. Em couldn’t answer. Because there wasn’t one she could fathom.

“If that’s not enough, how about the two scars on the tip of his dick? I noticed those when I sucked his cock for the first time. The head is really sensitive, and he nearly came from my licking it one time.”

Those scars were from a Prince Albert piercing that had gotten infected and had to be removed.

Frost had gotten it years before in an attempt to bring her even more pleasure than he already did when they were together.

Sadly, the guy who did the piercing wasn’t too clean, so Frost got an infection that could have cost him dearly.

Thankfully, one round of antibiotics, a buttload of ice, and six weeks of abstinence helped clear that right up.

Those scars were all that were left of that debacle—scars that only Em had known about.

Until now.

Her chest tight, Em couldn’t get breath out, let alone words.

How…how was this happening? How could Sarah know any of this unless…unless she’d actually seen Emily’s husband naked? Unless she’s touched him…intimately…put her hands and mouth on places that had once been Emily’s alone?

“Ah,” Sarah cooed, “I see you’re getting it. You’re the old, Emily, and I’m the new. You’d better step aside and let Frost have a woman he truly deserves standing beside him.”

Tears burned backs of Em’s eyes, threatening to spill.

Her smile venomous and victorious, Sarah struck another blow, one that nearly knocked Em to her knees.

“I’m his old lady now,” she proclaimed, her eyes bright and cunning. “And you’re nothing but what he left behind on his way to his best life.”

Not even bothering to look back and see the devastation she left in her wake, Sarah turned and sashayed from the shop.