The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 82

<Chapter 54

Chapter 54

Claim

The ride home is quieter than usual. My arms wrapped around Locke’s waist as they always are, my cheek resting lightly against the leather of his cut.

Usually, riding on the motorcycle with him settles my mind. Tonight, it only seems to give my thoughts more room to wander, and every mile we cover brings another realization I wish I’d never had:

It wasn’t enough for Knox to use just me. He used my whole family.

By the time we reach Locke’s building and ride the elevator to the penthouse, the knot in my chest has become almost unbearable.

“I should’ve known,” I whisper.

I hear Locke set the keys on the counter behind me. A moment later, his arms slide gently around my waist. “No, baby.”

“It was bad enough when I thought he’d destroyed my name. I could live with that, though.” My voice catches despite my best efforts. “But Dad… he built Cobra Ltd. from nothing. He spent decades proving that the club could build something honest, that an MC could actually contribute something positive to a community. And Knox…”

Locke doesn’t answer immediately, he simply holds me, his chin resting lightly against my hair, giving me the silence I need before filling it.

“Can I tell you what I see?” he says at last.

I nod, turn in his arms to face him. “Yes. Please.”

“I see your Dad as a man who spent almost four decades earning trust.” His arms tighten fractionally around me. “And then I see Knox, a man who is so incapable of earning trust himself, that he has to steal somebody else’s.”

I let that settle. “It doesn’t feel that simple.”

“I know.”

“It feels…” I search for the right words. “Out of control.”

“It is. And maybe that’s not entirely a bad thing.” He cups my face with both hands. “You know what being out of control means now?”

I shake my head.

“It means you don’t have to carry it alone. You’ve got your Dad, your brother, Jade. And whether you like it or not…” The corner of his mouth lifts. “You’ve got one slightly bossy forensic accountant who isn’t going anywhere.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Slightly?”

“I was trying to sound humble.”

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<Chapter 54

“You failed.”

He smiles, leaning down until his forehead rests against mine. “Trust yourself, Zara. Trust the people who’ve proven they’ll stand beside you

“How do I do that?”

“You give them opportunities to prove they’re trustworthy.”

Clam

“Okay,” I say, studying him thoughtfully. “That’s wonderfully philosophical. Maybe an example in practical terms?”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “I’ve got one that I’ve been thinking about a bit.”

“That worries me already.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“It definitely should.”

His laugh rumbles warmly through his chest, and for a moment he simply watches me, his hands resting lightly on my waist. “I can show you.”

“Show me what?”

“How trust works.”

I narrow my eyes. “And how exactly are you planning to do that?”

“That’s the interesting part.”

“Okay. What is it?”

He grins. “I’m not telling you.”

“What?”

“I’m not telling you.”

I stare at him. “You’ve literally just said that you’ll show me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you won’t explain it?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

I fold my arms. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Yeah. From me.”

“That is corect.”

“So,” I say, “I’m just supposed to… agree?”

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<Chapter 54

If you want to.”

“Without knowing what I’m agreeing to?”

Clam

“That’s part of trust, baby. You step off the cliff, trusting that I’ll catch you.” His eyes hold mine, “And if I don ‘t need to catch you, then you trust yourself to fly.”

The room seems to grow impossibly still and I look up at him, really look at him. At the man who has neve r once demanded my trust, who has never tried to earn it with grand speeches or impossible promises.

Instead, he fastens my helmet before every ride. Makes sure I’ve eaten. Síts beside me through chemotherapy. Sleeps badly because he’s listening to make sure I’m breathing comfortably. Lets me solve the problems that are mine to solve. Stands beside me when they’re too heavy to carry alone.

“So….” he says softly. “Do you trust me, Zara?”

The answer arrives long before I speak it. He’s already shown me, a thousand times and in a thousand different ways.

I reach up, resting my hand against the side of his face. “Yes. You’ve spent every single day that I’ve known you showing me why I should.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes warm with that familiar glint, the one that means the best kind of trouble.

Bedroom trouble. Or bathtub trouble, or office desk trouble, or shower trouble.

I smile, feeling my p***y start to heat up, slick up. “So…”

“So?”

“I’m braced,” I say with a bravado that I don’t fully feel. “Ready for anything.”

That devastating grin appears again, and then he walks over to a vintage cabinet in the corner of living room. He opens a drawer, rummages around, then turns, and when I see what’s in his hands, I almost fall over backwards.

“Handcuffs?” I say faintly. “You want to – to restrain me?”

“I do.” He holds my eyes as he walks back to me. “I want to handcuff your hands to the bed posts, and have my wicked way with you.”

“Oh,” I manage to say in a strangled tone. “I see…”

“Have you ever done this before, baby?”

“No. Never.”

“So…”

“So.” I clear my throat, suddenly aware how turned on I am. “So I’d like to try it. With you.”

He dangles the cuffs from one hand, and reaches out to me with the other. “Come on then, Zara. Let’s see what it feels like when you really, truly, honestly trust a man.”