Filthy Devil (Dark Horse MC #6)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

JAMES

Day one wasn’t too bad hanging around this clubhouse. I kept myself busy by putting all my things away in Nash’s room and moving some of his things around. I waited for him to complain when he walked into the space, but if he noticed, he didn’t say a word.

I also familiarized myself with the kitchen and was happy to discover that it wasn’t turned into a restaurant with a bustling staff at night.

But now we’re going on day seven, and I’m bored.

So damn bored.

I’ve played around on the internet, watched a bunch of trash television, I’ve even used some of the gym equipment, and now I just need to do something. All the guys have given me a wide berth except for the man who is always posted at the end of the bar. He hasn’t said anything, but he hasn’t avoided me either.

Nash has been in and out, mostly out. I don’t know what he’s been doing, but it’s clear that whatever it is is weighing on his mind. Our little safe haven bubble is slowly leaking air. I’m just not sure if there is anything I need or can do to fix it.

The sex is still amazing, and when we’re together like that, I know I have all of him, but when the act is finished, I watch as he goes somewhere else. I can’t describe it. I can just see it in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, I move down the staircase, and I decide that today, I’m going to do something a little more exciting. I’m going to introduce myself to him. I just can’t sit in silence any longer. If I can’t go outside and do what I want, I’m going to at least make a friend, and this one seems to not be scared of me.

Walking up to the bar, I climb onto the stool that is one away from him, giving us both a little space. He doesn’t even flinch at my arrival. There is a bartender who lifts his chin at me, which I’m sure means that he wants me to order.

“Just a water, please,” I call out.

That gets the attention of the man beside me. Slowly, he turns his head, his eyes finding mine, and I watch as his brows shoot up. “Water?” he asks.

He’s got his fingers wrapped around a beer that sits in front of him. “It’s ten in the morning,” I murmur.

He tilts his head as if to ask me if that is a problem, then he clears his throat. “You got somewhere to be today?” he asks.

I don’t have anywhere to be any day, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I introduce myself to this gruff old man at the end of the bar.

“I’m James,” I announce.

He snorts, lifts his beer to his lips, and takes a pull from the bottle. “Know who you are, babe. Whole fucking club knows who you are.”

It’s my turn for my brows to lift in surprise. I’ve only spoken to Bugsy and Rev as far as men go. Even when they all showed up in that room at the strip club, nobody else talked to me. But I’m here now, in their space, and it’s like I don’t exist. It’s lonely.

“Well, nobody has said a word to me,” I state.

He lets out a guffaw as the bartender slides a bottle of water in my direction. Thanking him, I twist the cap off and turn to this man. He is still chuckling and then actually wipes away a few tears that have fallen, his hilarity having overtaken him.

“Yeah, babe, I would imagine not.”

He doesn’t expand, and I frown as I stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, to explain why he’s said that. But he turns back to his beer and takes another pull as if he’s got nothing else to add to the conversation.

“Why?” I ask.

He turns to me again, his eyes holding my gaze. “Because, James, your man has made it very clear if anyone even looks at you, they’re fucking dead. And since Nash is… well, Nash, they didn’t take his words as a threat but as a promise.”

Something slides through me, and I’m not sure if it’s a thrill or a warning. I watched Nash kill once, and I know he did it a second time. But neither of those guys was part of his group.

Should I be scared of him?

“You should be scared of everyone, babe. You’re vulnerable.”

I spoke the question aloud, even though I didn’t mean to. Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment. I’m not sure I want to ask what makes me vulnerable. Sure, I’m a twenty-year-old woman with no path in life and no way to make it on my own, but I don’t think that’s what he’s referring to.

“I’m vulnerable?” I ask in a whisper.

He tilts his head to the side, his brows furrowing as if he is confused, but then he explains, and when he does, he chooses his words carefully. His voice is raspy, but his words are poignant, and in an instant, I feel like I’m learning about myself, something that I probably should have already known.

“That contract might be something that will never be held up in court, but in this world, it is as good as gold. You aren’t supposed to be here even if we are keeping you under the guise of protection. Also, they’re looking for you. They want what’s theirs, and they are freaking pissed the fuck off about it.”

Okay. I did know all of that. Maybe not how serious it all is, because I think it’s bigger than I anticipated.

“And to add to that, there is a fucking war happening right now. Not only would someone like to take you as a fucking hostage, but also, you’d be good to trade. All that being said, Nash made it clear that you were not to be seen. When it comes to you, we protect you at all costs, and that’s that.”

Protect me at all costs. I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know how to feel about that. Any of it. Lifting my bottle of water to my lips, I take a long drink, swallow, and try to think of something to say. I’m kind of frozen in place, unsure of what to say, and at the same time, just feeling as if there is something more to this.

“I’m not important,” I whisper. “Not for anything like this.”

“My name’s Tommy G,” he oddly states before he continues speaking. “No, you aren’t important. Not really. You’re a body with easily usable and sellable parts.”

A chill of dread slides down my spine at his words. I know he’s right. I am just that, and that is what I did to myself. However, I can’t help but feel icky about it. I know this is the underworld, that lines are blurred here. I did this to myself, and I can’t even say that I regret it because it led me to Nash, but I also can’t deny that I’m scared shitless of what’s to come.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and I don’t know what a war even means,” I murmur, looking at the label on my water bottle.

Tommy G snorts, then shakes his head a couple of times. “Babe, there is always a war. This time, you’re just mixed up in it. Next time, it’ll be something and someone else. But we ain’t gonna worry about it. We’re just gonna keep you safe until it all works out.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” I whisper.

I don’t want anyone to feel responsible for me, by force or otherwise. It’s bad enough that Nash is protecting me when he probably shouldn’t. He was just told to take me out of that truck, and now here I am.

But I also can’t be responsible for myself right now.

I messed up big time, and now all these people who don’t even know me have to pick up the pieces? How is that right?

“Feel any fuckin’ way you want. But it’s the way it is. Now do you want a beer?” he asks.

My lips twitch into a small smile. “No, thank you,” I murmur.

“Then I’ll have to drink yours,” he states as he lifts his hand and motions for the bartender to bring him another drink.

The rest of the afternoon, I stay right next to Tommy G, and we talk. It isn’t about anything deep, but I get to know him a little, and he gets to know me. Not that I have a whole lot to know. And that’s where Nash finds me when he returns from places unknown—sitting next to Tommy G, learning about all of his life’s adventures and laughing the entire time.

NASH

When I walk into the clubhouse, I don’t expect the sight that greets me. It’s Tommy G and James bellied up to the bar together. He’s grinning at her while she throws her head back in laughter. I should feel fucking jealous as hell because one of my brothers is talking to her, making her laugh, but I don’t.

As if she can sense my appearance, she turns to look over her shoulder at me. When her eyes find mine, her lips curve up into a smirk. Then she lifts her hand and gives me a slow wiggle of her fingers.

I don’t move.

Instead, I clear my throat and dip my chin slightly. Searching her gaze with mine, I watch as she slides off the barstool and then slowly moves toward me. She isn’t trying to be sexy. She just is. It’s fucking gorgeous.

I flick my gaze to Tommy G. He jerks his chin at me, giving me a wink, then turns back to his booze. I shift my attention back to James as she approaches. She stops when she’s within arm’s reach and tilts her head back.

“I don’t want to be the cause of anyone getting hurt or any type of war. I just want to live life, and if that means I have to go back there to keep from anything happening to anyone, then I will.”

Obviously, Tommy G has been talking, which is surprising because I assumed he was drunk most of the time and not coherent with the goings-on around him. Apparently, I was fucking wrong. He’s not only been coherent, but he’s been absorbing everything, too, and finding it appropriate to tell James.

“Sweetheart,” I murmur, reaching out for her.

I wrap my fingers around the front of her throat, and my gaze searches hers as I place my fingers at the exact places where she wears my light bruising. I’ve never been one to mark a woman I’m fucking, but James isn’t someone I’m just fucking.

She’s more than that.

She’s mine.

“Nobody is going to get hurt. I fucking promise that shit.”

James’s gaze searches mine, and I can see the hesitancy in her gaze. She doesn’t believe me, and I think it’s sweet she gives a shit that someone could get hurt, but we’ve had this conversation ad nauseam.

“This is what we do, sweetheart. It’ll be fine. I’ve already started making moves toward ending this all.”

“How?” she asks.

I smirk, leaning forward as my fingers grip her skin a bit firmer. “It doesn’t matter. Tommy G talks too much. I got this. Trust me?”

Her lips part, her eyes take in mine, and then she lets out a grunt. “I do.”

“Good. Now, let’s go upstairs, and you can show me how much you missed me today.”

Releasing her throat, I reach behind her and grab hold of her ass, squeezing her there—hard. She whimpers, her body leaning forward slightly, rising to her toes as her lips touch mine.

“I missed you a whole lot, Nash.”

I chuckle against her mouth. “Thank fuck I wasn’t the only one.”

Reaching down, I wrap my fingers around the backs of her thighs and pick her up off the floor. She wraps her legs around my hips. Her arms immediately circle my shoulders, and I hike her up for a better grip, then walk us straight toward my room.

I’m fucking hungry, and I need a drink after the day I’ve had. But food and booze will have to wait. I need an appetizer first. I feel like a fucking teenager. I’ve been away from James for mere hours, and I need my fix before I do anything else.