Custom Love by Chantal Fernando
Chapter Fifteen
I’m at work trying to find Merve on social media when there’s suddenly a loud noise, making me jump out of my seat. It’s then followed by my window cracking and shattering, the glass going everywhere.
“What the fuck,” I mutter, calling 911 instantly. I pull out my gun from my bottom drawer and get ready in case I have to defend myself. Looking on my carpet, I see a huge rock sitting there amongst all of the broken glass.
“Hello? Yeah, someone has thrown a huge rock into my office window, and there’s glass everywhere,” I tell the operator.
When nothing else happens and there is no other movement, I glance outside. “No, no one is around here that I can see, but I’m not sure.” I rattle off my address to the police officer and then hang up.
Why would someone do this, though? I think of the cases I’ve been working, and the three new ones I just took on, but none of it makes sense.
Who have I made an enemy of?
The police finally arrive and take my statement. I should have just called Decker, because it takes them over half an hour to get here. We check the camera surveillance from the front of the building, but I can only see a car without license plates pulling up, and a man with his face covered throwing the rock and jumping back in his car and driving away. So it was a man. That’s all we know.
I call up my insurance company and organize getting the window fixed today, then sit back in my chair and contemplate my life, wondering who the hell could have done this.
And why?
There are flowers at my door when I get home from work. It seems like our date was ages ago, but it was only last night.
I knew I fucked up the second I drove away from your house.
Forgive me. It won’t happen again.
I know what I want.
How does he know that, though? He doesn’t. And I don’t want him to feel pressured in any way.
I have a long bath and think about everything that has happened. Between the rock through my window and the incident with Trade, it’s been pretty chaotic. I work well under pressure and stress, but I need to make sure that I don’t become overwhelmed.
I respond to him and apologize for my late reply, telling him it’s been a hectic day and that someone threw a rock through my office window. My phone instantly rings.
“Hey,” I say.
“Are you okay? What happened today?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. I give him a rundown on what happened. He stays silent for a second, and then tells me he will call me back in a minute, leaving me a little confused.
When he calls back, though, it all makes sense as he asks, “How do you feel about one of the prospects, or one of the guards from the nightclubs, coming and keeping watch at your office? Just in case something else happens. We don’t know who did this or why, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
I smile to myself, amused. “I think that is very sweet of you, but unnecessary. I have a gun. I can protect myself. They threw a rock, didn’t come in weapons blazing. I mean, if they wanted to hurt me, then they would have, right? Someone is just trying to scare me, and it’s not going to work.”
“How did I know you were going to say that? I just want you to be safe. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything else while you’re at work, and we need to find out who did this. It doesn’t matter if it was just a rock—it was still a threat.”
“I know, but sending someone to stand guard here is a little over the top. I’ll be fine. And the cops are on it.”
He sighs. “Nadia, I lost the woman I loved a year ago from what seems to be a random act of violence. I know you can take care of yourself, but if there is a future for us, you need to know that your safety will be a main priority to me. I respect your decision, but I won’t stop checking on you and making sure you’re safe. Whether you have a gun or not.”
“Okay, I understand. Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate that.”
It’s hard for me to accept help sometimes, and I can see where Trade is coming from. He’s the protective type, like the rest of the men in the MC, and I shouldn’t be surprised by that.
We end up staying on the phone for over an hour, just chatting and talking about our day. When we end our call, I give Bronte a quick ring to let her know what happened.
“Look at Trade trying to handle it for you—that’s hot,” she muses. “Trying being the key word there.”
I laugh. “It was nice of him, but I can handle myself.”
“Though you do know it would make us all feel better if someone was there, until we are sure about what’s going on and who threw the damn rock,” she adds, amusement in her tone. “We recognize you can handle yourself; it’s more for our peace of mind.”
“Don’t you start, too,” I grumble. “I will be fine, and no one has anything to worry about. A rock isn’t going to take me out.”
“What if they come back with a gun or a knife next time?”
“Then I’ll fight them and call the cops,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I’ve done self-defense, and I throw a mean punch.”
“You are so stubborn.”
“I learn from the best.”
We get off our phones and I lie in the bathtub, and enjoy how the scalding hot water turns my skin numb.
I don’t know why the hell someone would want to target me, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.
“Where’s Trade?” I ask Chains at Fast & Fury on Monday morning. I decided to drop in with coffee for him, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“One of his kids is sick, so he’s staying home today,” Chains explains, glancing up from his phone. “I’m the acting manager today.”
“Oh no,” I say. “And Bronte is off today, too.”
Cam walks over to me and gives me a hug. “Yeah, it’s just me, Victoria and Chains today. I heard what happened at your work—are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say instantly. “My window not so much.”
“I hear Trade wants to send the prospects to look out for you.”
“Which isn’t needed.”
“You sure? You could make them run your errands and get you coffee and food,” she replies with a laugh.
“Now that doesn’t sound so bad after all.”
“Nope, you might even enjoy it.”
We share a grin.
“How’s Orion?” I ask her.
“He’s good. We’re actually doing really well,” she replies, smiling dreamily. “We’ll have to have you over for dinner sometime.”
“That sounds nice,” I reply. “How about you, Chains? How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.” He nods, shrugging. “The whole Taylor thing was... Honestly I don’t even want to talk about it. But I’ve accepted that I’m going to be single for the rest of my life, and I suppose it could be worse.”
“You and me both,” I mutter.
“Neither of you are going to be single forever,” Cam says, rolling her eyes. “Especially you, Nadia. If you think Trade isn’t going to snap you up, you have another think coming.”
I sigh heavily. “I’m going to work. Who knows what today is going to bring?”
“The prospects are one call away,” Chains says. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Cam agrees, “Yeah, we are here for you. And we’re not new to this kind of thing. We’ve got your back no matter what.”
“Thanks,” I say to them both.
When I get to work there is a man standing out the front of my office. I recognize him instantly, after having met him at the clubhouse once.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, frowning.
“Hello to you, too,” Diesel replies. He’s tall and dark haired, with hazel eyes and a serious expression on his face.
“I told Trade that I’m fine—I don’t need a big brooding man standing here all day watching over me,” I say, sighing.
He puts his hands up. “Just following orders. You think I want to be here? This place looks boring.”
I scowl as I unlock the office door and step inside. “Why don’t we both do each other a favor then, and you head on your merry way and let me work in peace?”
“Can’t. Temper told me to do whatever Trade wanted, and Trade said not to leave you no matter what kind of shit you gave me, so here I am,” he replies, looking about as unhappy as I am about it.
“Your job sucks.”
“Least I’m not getting rocks thrown at me.”
“You might now that you’re here,” I reply, grinning as I open the door wider for him. “Come on in then.” He follows behind me and glances around my small business. “There’s a bathroom and mini kitchen with a fridge and freezer in the back, so help yourself to anything you need. There’s a coffee machine, too.” He might as well feel welcome now that he’s here.
I call Trade, but the bastard doesn’t pick up, how convenient. I decide to deal with him later and just get on with my day. They will all soon see how ridiculous they are being for themselves.
Diesel tells me even if he’s not in my direct sight he won’t be far, and he’s always going to be available and watching.
Wonderful.
At lunch I decide to drop by Trade’s for two reasons. One, we really need to have a talk about the whole Diesel thing, and two, I want to bring some food for him and the kids, since Cam said that they weren’t well. I find him outside his house, shirtless and mowing the lawn. Maybe he wasn’t just avoiding my calls.
The view is...impressive.
Of course I saw him up close when we were in bed, at least before he left, but there wasn’t much light in the room. Right now I can see every rippling ab and muscle, and I can tell you now that he is a work of art.
He turns off the mower and removes his headphones when he sees me. “Hey. What are you doing here?” he asks with a smile. “Come to yell at me?”
“I’ve come to both yell at you and because I heard you had some sick kids, so I thought I’d drop by with some food,” I say, eyes still on his body. “I can see that you are well, though. I mean, you look well. And hot.” He needs to put on some clothes before any yelling commences, because I’m getting a little distracted right now.
Trade laughs, his eyes sparkling. “I’m fine. Alia just has a cold, so she’s in bed watching a movie with the humidifier on. What did you bring? That was nice of you.”
“Some soup and grilled cheese,” I say, handing him the bags. “And why has Diesel moved into my office when I told you it was overkill sending someone to watch over me?”
“Because it’s a just-in-case scenario, and he won’t get in your way. Just pretend he’s not even there. Crow and Bronte think it’s a good idea, too. We all voted.”
I arch my brow. “You going to throw them under the bus, too, huh?”
“I’ll do what I have to,” he replies with a straight face. “We just care about you, and you don’t know why someone would do this, so it’s fair for us to be concerned right now. Come on, can you please just let Diesel loiter around your office? It won’t be that bad.”
“Fine.” It seems like putting up a fight over something trivial like this is moot. I’ll pick my battles. “Is there anything I can do to help Alia?”
“You’ve helped by just being here,” he replies, smiling and nodding toward his front door. “You coming in?”
“I mean, yeah, I can stay for a little while.”
His house is spotless and quiet, and he puts the food on the table and then stands in front of me. He cups my cheek with his hand and presses a kiss to my forehead, my nose, and then my lips. When I don’t pull away, he kisses me properly, pressing my body against his skin, and I allow myself to touch all the muscles I was ogling on his front lawn.
“We need to have a proper talk about us,” he whispers against my lips before pulling away. “I want you. And I want you to give me another chance. Do you think you can do that?”
“Do you think it’s a good idea if we try to date, though?” I ask, brow furrowing. “Do you think you are ready? I don’t even know where I fit into your life, Trade.”
“We can go slowly,” he says. “There’s no rush. I just know that I want to be with you, and if you want to be with me, then we can make it work.”
“That easy, huh?”
He shakes his head. “No, but worth it.”
I rest my forehead against his chest. “Are you really ready to take the next step? The chemistry is here, Trade, but the timing has to be right, too. And if you aren’t ready, then there’s no point in us trying anything—we should just be friends.”
“I’m ready,” he assures me. “I felt guilty when I was touching you last time. You felt so good, and I was so happy being with you. And she’s not here, but I am, and I want to live again. I shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting that, and for going after it. And I want to be with you. Life is short, Nadia. And there’s no one I’d rather spend my time with.”
He sounds so sure, and I want to believe him. “Let me think about it. Like you said, there’s no rush right? We can go as slowly as we need to.”
He nods and kisses me again, and I get lost in him.
“Dad, ew,” comes a little voice from behind us, and I quickly move away from Trade, wincing.
“Hi, Alia,” I say, clearing my throat.
She purses her lips. “Did you both forget that I’m here? And sick?”
Oh, dear.
“Alia, what wonderful timing. Nadia brought you some soup.”
She perks up, her horrified face changing to a pleasant one. “Really?”
“Yep. Chicken and corn and chicken and vegetable—there’s two types.”
“Thanks, Nadia,” she says, sitting down at the table. “Dad’s soup isn’t very good. Last time he put in too much ginger and it tastes more like medicine.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Trade grumbles.
“I can make good soup, but I only heard you were sick this morning, so I just bought some on the way here,” I tell her, smiling. I help her serve some and then turn back to Trade. “I better get going. Let me know if you need anything else.”
He walks me to my car and opens the door for me. “Thanks for coming, and thanks for letting Diesel stay. I’d be there watching out for you myself if I could.”
“I know.” I give him a quick kiss and then get in my car.
Didn’t I tell myself I was stepping away from him? Fucking hell.
Instead, I’ve jumped straight back in, and fuck me if I’m not smiling about it.