Page 23 of Perdition (Unchained Hearts #4)
“Right….” Cluster cocked his head, crossing his arms over his chest. For a man who spent more time drinking and shootin’ the shit than anything else, he was fit—just like every other member of the Unchained.
If he didn’t act like a freaking toddler most of the time, he’d make a great old man for a lucky woman.
Again, too bad he preferred skank over class; he’d bedded Sarah a few times, and Em couldn’t get the memory of the bitch on her knees in front of the man at a club party a few months ago.
She fought the urge to give into the full body icks , and instructed, “When Frost gets back, make sure he knows about the pyre. Make sure he’s here when you light it.”
Cluster furrowed his brows, obviously curious about the what and the why, but again, he didn’t question the club queen.
“Yeah, I can do that. Already doused the whole thing with gasoline, so it won’t take more than a few minutes for the whole thing to go poof ,” he said, gesturing an exaggerated explosion with his hands.
Realizing that she could actually smell the gas fumes from where she was standing, she also realized…this was real.
No going back.
By the end of the night, her hopes, dreams, and marriage would all be ashes.
And whether he was actually holding the matches or not, Frost was the one that set fire to it all.
“Thanks, Cluster,” Em rasped, emotion wrapping around her vocal cords.
Again, Cluster’s brow furrowed, this time with concern.
“You okay there, Em?” he inquired, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. Yeah, this man would be one heck of an old man one day. “I know things with Prez haven’t been all that great lately, but that man loves the fuck outta you. Just be patient with him, yeah? It’ll all be good soon.”
Em didn’t have the heart to tell him that Frost had already FUBARed, and there wasn’t anything he or anyone else could do to stop the spiral of destruction.
This can’t be it…this can’t be the end.
She dragged her gaze from the worried looking Cluster to the pyre behind him, landing on that one, single log.
Mads loves Em 4-ever.
Irrevocable. Incurable. Irreversible.
Just like what Frost had done.
Are you sure Sarah wasn’t just talking shit? Maybe there’s an explanation….
God, that inner voice was so freaking desperate for the Madsen she’d fallen in love with to still be the man he was today.
But he wasn’t.
And she wasn’t that little girl anymore, either.
She was harder, emptier, scarier—with that chainsaw revving in her hands, she’d been terrified…and amplified, her emotions bigger, louder, uglier.
Gazing, once again, at Cluster, she finally answered, “I’ll be fine.”
Would she?
Heaving a sigh, she glanced at the pyre one more time, a silent goodbye to a tree she’d known since it was a sapling, green and so full of potential.
Like she’d been. Like their future had been.
She had to get out of there; she’d already pressed her luck, showing up where Frost might be. Thankfully, he wasn’t there.
Probably banging Sarah in her kennel.
Offering the Cluster a smile she didn’t feel, Em turned on her heel, walked back to her car, and headed toward the Wine & Spirits Store.
Maybe a night with the girls was just what she needed to forget…just for a little while.
Parking, Em grabbed her purse and strode purposefully through the door of the wine and booze store.
The air inside, surprisingly, didn’t smell like beer or liquor, but rather Lysol. She looked down, noticing the WET FLOOR sign. Apparently, they’d just mopped the floors.
Mentally, she told her feet to tread carefully, but her heart and tongue were urging her to grab the wine and get out.
She should have listened to her brain because the moment she stepped into the aisle with the sweet wines, her foot slipped out from under her, and she went down, squealing like a pig.
But she didn’t hit the ground…she hit a hard chest and thick, muscular arms.
Gasping, her heart racing, she looked up into the face of grinning temptation.
Officer Bradley Copper.
“Whoa there, Emily,” he said, his handsomely rugged face split in a smile that lit him up. His blue eyes were crinkled at the sides, and his straight, white teeth flashed in that way only an All-American hottie could do it.
Lord, she was a mess—her plump ass was pressed against his thigh, since he pushed out his long, strong leg to help catch her mid-fall. She was basically sitting on him, leaning back against him like a couch, in the middle of the liquor store aisle.
Suddenly aware of how she must look, and how close she was to the man, she stiffened, mentally cursed, then tried to find her footing.
Helping to steady her to her feet, Officer Copper said, his voice soft, “Let me help you up—don’t want you slipping again.”
Unable to speak for the lump of humiliation and the blasting heat of unwanted awareness blooming on her cheeks, she simply righted herself, planting her feet on the tile floor, and then nodding.
His smile never wavered, though his eyes gentled. “They really should put those signs everywhere,” he commented. His hands still on her arms, he squeezed them, leaning in to search her face. “You alright? You seem flustered.”
God, her face got hotter.
She was flustered, because she was having a shit day because of her shit husband and his shit whore, and then, when all she wanted was delicious fruity wine to help ease the pain of it, she tumbled into a humiliating situation with a man who could give Chris Evans as Captain America a run for his money.
Officer Copper’s smile slipped. “Em?” He dropped his hands from her arms but then reached out to tip up her chin, his finger curling under her face, gently directing her to look up at him. “You okay?”
She nearly shuddered at the contact.
Sucking in a breath, she offered the younger man a lopsided, self-deprecating smile.
She was a mess.
Pulling out of his grip, her cheeks on fire, she hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. She drew in a breath, immediately picking up his scent. He smelled like Old Spice, autumn, and masculinity.
Lord, he smelled good.
Not as good as Mads, though. That man was catnip to the senses—leather, bourbon, heat, and mouth-watering sex appeal. His scent had always been a comfort, an allure, a piece of home and hearth that could settle and scintillate in equal measure.
How long had it been since she’d last drawn the scent of her husband into her lungs?
“Officer Copper, I’m so sorry about that,” she stressed, awkwardly, as she gripped her purse strap like it owed her money. “Just a little wonky after that near-death experience. Although, the Moscato might be worth a quick trip to the ER.”
The man before her grinned even wider, his strangely perfect mouth drawing her attention. She could see just that little bit of end-of-the-work-day scruff, golden blonde, shading his jaw and chin.
“Nothing is worth landing in the ER, darlin’, and I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”
Lord…did his voice just get all deep and velvety?
She squirmed, clearing her throat.
She’d just noticed he wasn’t wearing his uniform, when he remarked, “I’m off-duty, Emily,” he ran a large, long-fingered hand down his chest, which was covered in a light gray t-shirt that molded to his impressive chest, narrow waist, and massive arms like the plastic wrap over an action figure. “Call me Brad.”
Dragging her eyes from where his t-shirt was half tucked into his jeans over his belt buckle, she blinked up at him, her brain like old oatmeal—sticky and thick.
When her gaze met his, the heat in his blue eyes struck her, hard.
She swallowed, suddenly warmer, more aware of her own body…and its proximity to a very attractive man…who was looking at her like he wanted her.
How long had it been since that had happened?
“What’re you here for, Offi—uh, Brad? What do cops usually drink off-duty?”
He chuckled, tipping his head toward the sign over the next aisle that read “RUM.”
She cracked a smile. “Ah, pina coladas and getting caught in the rain?” she teased.
Something in his eyes shifted, the whole of them going dark with a promise she knew was dangerous.
His voice was heat and decadent invitation when he replied, “Only if I get caught with you, Em.”
Stone. She was made of stone. That was the only thing she could think that would explain why she didn’t pull away when Bradley Copper leaned in to kiss her.