Custom Love by Chantal Fernando

Chapter Twenty-Three

Decker calls me a few days later, just as I’ve arrived at work. “You sitting down?”

“Why?” I ask, frowning.

“I think Damon might have had ties to the Knights. I know they are your friends and all but—”

“Ties how?”

“Drugs.”

“The Knights don’t deal with drugs of any kind,” I tell him. That seems to be their hard line, not that I know much about the ins and outs of their MC life. But I heard Abbie say that, and as Temper’s wife, she would know more than any of the women.

“That you know of. Nadia, they are a motorcycle club. What do you think they do to make money?”

“They own legitimate businesses,” I grumble. “What makes you think this?”

“Like I said, I’ve been talking to people Damon sold drugs to, and they are certain that one of the Knights is his supplier.”

Interesting. I mean, I don’t know what the Knights have going on. I only see what they want me to see, but from what I know this doesn’t sound like something they would be involved in.

“What do we do with this?” I ask, wondering what he is planning. I guess in a way this is a conflict of interest for me. What if the Knights do have something to do with it? I wouldn’t want them to get into any trouble.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to keep digging,” he comments. “And don’t you dare go and tell the MC that we’re onto them.”

Shit. “I won’t say anything.”

He hangs up and I groan. Another awkward situation where I’m put in the middle. He told me not to tell the MC, but Trade isn’t in the MC. But he would tell his brother, and then I’d be up shit’s creek.

I push this problem to the side to be dealt with later, when we have more information.

“Let go of what you can’t control,” I mutter to myself.

My new mantra is easier said than done.

“Your real name is Tradon?” I ask Trade as I look at his driver’s license. Izzy has the kids tonight, so Trade came over to spend the night at my house. It’s nice having some alone time with him in my space.

“Yeah.”

“I thought Trade was just a nickname they made up,” I admit.

He grins. “Just a shortened form of Tradon. My brother has always called me Trade and it just stuck.”

“And Temper’s real name is Tommy.”

“Yeah, did the kids tell you that?” he asks, wrapping his arm around me as we sit on the couch.

“Yeah, they did. I asked them who this Uncle Tommy was that they were talking about. Suits him.”

“You won’t hear many people calling him that.” He grins.

“Seems to be the way in the MC with all of your road names.”

I’ve been feeling guilty all night, wondering if I should be honest and tell him what Decker said, but I’m torn. Considering we’ve had a few issues with our communication, the last thing I want is for him to think I wasn’t honest with him. But I don’t want Decker to not trust me either. We have such a good working relationship, and I’d hate to ruin that.

So much for not worrying about what I can’t control.

I turn to Trade and stare at his handsome profile. He turns his head and brings his eyes to me as he notices I’m watching him.

“Do the Knights ever deal drugs?” I blurt out, unable to help myself.

Fuck.

His brows draw together. “Why?”

“Just curious,” I lie.

“Nope,” he replies, turning back to the TV, obviously thinking nothing of my questioning. “Not now, anyway. All of their businesses are legitimate and they are making a shit ton of money, so there’s no need to do anything like that.”

“Makes sense,” I mutter.

“What made you think of that?” he asks absently, and this is the moment where I need to lie, evade, or just be honest and trust that he will keep what I tell him in private. As partners, we should share everything with each other and know that the information is safe among us.

We should be each other’s safe space.

“I’ll tell you, but I need you to promise that it stays between us,” I say.

He turns back to me and nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Decker thinks that there’s a tie between Damon and the Knights somehow. As in, someone in the Knights was the one supplying him with drugs to sell on the street,” I say, watching his reaction.

I’ve barely finished my sentence when he’s already shaking his head no. “My brother would not have allowed that. There’s no way. You know my mother overdosed on drugs, right? Temper won’t touch the stuff.”

“I said as much to Decker.”

“So the cops are looking into the MC then?” he asks, frowning. His tone suddenly changes, and I can tell that he’s on edge. “If they are, then Temper should know about it, Nadia.”

Shit.

“Decker is just looking into Damon and Taylor’s case, nothing else,” I reply. “And he’s doing it off the book because he was told to stand down. We can’t tell Temper, because then I’m going to be in shit with Decker. I’m telling you this in confidence.”

Trade stands up and turns off the TV. He turns to me but doesn’t look me in the eye. When he starts to speak, I know why. “Temper is my brother. He is family, and Decker is just a cop. You have to be loyal to me and my family, not a work colleague.” The way he says it, the condescending tone he uses, sets me on edge and raises my hackles. “He’s not even a colleague. He’s just some cop who low-key wants you.”

“Are you serious right now?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “This isn’t some important life-or-death information that you need to run and tell Temper. This is something I was told in confidence and asked you about, after you said you would keep it to yourself!”

“I didn’t know it was going to be something like this. My brother is everything to me, surely you understand that. I have to warn him that the cops will be poking around in his club to protect him. To protect all of us. This is our family we’re talking about.”

“You are not going to tell him,” I say. “If the MC isn’t selling drugs, like you claim, this isn’t a big deal.”

“Why are you so loyal to Decker?” he asks, clenching his teeth. “What does it matter? He’s just a cop.”

“He’s someone I trust, and someone who trusts me. In my business, that matters. It matters to me, Trade. I don’t just turn my back on people who have mine.”

“And I don’t either,” he replies, crossing his arms over his chest. He finally looks at me, holding my stare.

“We are supposed to be a team, a safe space for each other, and I need to be able to say whatever the fuck I want without worrying that you’re going to tell people about it. I wouldn’t tell anyone something you have told me in private.”

“If it had to do with a case you were working on, you’d tell the whole world,” he fires back. “Work comes first to you, so don’t act like it doesn’t.”

I swallow hard. “You said you liked that about me.”

“You said you had no problem being with me knowing I have a lot going on with the kids, so I guess we both lied.”

My jaw drops. “Where did that even come from? We’re talking about you running off to tell your brother something I asked you not to. The situation with the kids is a lot to take on, and I know that, but I’m still fucking here, aren’t I? And I haven’t said anything to make you think otherwise.” This must be his own insecurity.

I stand up and go to leave the room. I need to walk away or else I’ll say something I’m going to regret.

“Seriously, Ariel, you’re just going to walk away?” he calls out.

I go still.

He said Ariel’s name once before, but this is different. He was sleeping then, whatever, but this time it just pushes me over the edge. “Get out.”

I don’t think he even realizes what he just did, because he looks offended that I’ve told him to leave, but he gets up and does as he’s been asked.

And me?

I break down and cry, and wish that I’d listened to Bronte from the beginning.