Filthy Devil (Dark Horse MC #6)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

JAMES

With each day that passes, Nash grows stronger. I can’t believe how fast he’s healing. In fact, he’s decided to take a ride to the clubhouse today to check everything out. Bugsy came to follow behind him, just in case. I’m not sure how I feel about Bugsy, but I like that he does seem to care about Nash.

Elvis and Shawn left two days ago, taking the kids back home. They made us promise that we would be in town for Chase’s birthday in a few weeks.

Nash assured them that we will.

We.

Together.

I like the sound of that—a lot.

There’s a knock on the door, and I jump. Nobody should be here, but then I wonder if something happened to Nash, so I rush to the door. But I’m not stupid. I don’t just wrench it open. I’ve seen those scary movies before.

But when I look through the peephole, it’s not Nash or anyone else from the club, but it is someone I know.

Two someones, actually.

My parents… or grandparents technically, but they’ve always been my parents.

“How on earth,” I whisper to myself.

I don’t know how they found me, but it seems as if they aren’t going anywhere. Wrapping my hand around the door handle, I gently tug it open. My parents stand in front of me, their eyes wide and their brows raised so high that they’re in their hairline.

I’m not sure what to say, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I stand in front of them, stoic and unsure of what to do. It seems like I’ve lived a whole lifetime without them. I know it’s only been a few months, but I feel as if I’m looking at strangers. Or maybe I’m the stranger.

“James,” my mother whispers.

Her eyes are watering, but I know her game. She’s full of shit. She is fake as hell. There are a million reasons why my birth mother left and never looked back. There was a reason she would rather give her body to a whole clubhouse full of men than live at home.

“Mother,” I rasp.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

I take a step backward to let her into the house, although I don’t know why I do. I should make them stay outside. I don’t know why they’re even here. They walk past me and into the living room.

She spins around, taking in the whole space. I watch her, unsure of what she’s going to say, mainly because I have no idea why she’s here or how she found me. I don’t ask her. I don’t really care. I want her to get whatever the fuck she has to get out and get on with it.

“You’ve made a fine life for yourself, it seems,” she says, pursing her lips together.

Tilting my head to the side, I watch them. My father stays silent, his eyes taking in the place. He’s not going to say anything because he never does. He is the silent figure at my mother’s back, always.

“I’m in a relationship with someone if that’s what you’re implying.” She doesn’t respond, so I continue speaking. “Why are you here, and how did you find me?” I ask.

“When your daughter disappears in the middle of the night with no clues as to where she’s gone, you start asking questions.”

I stare at her in shock for a moment. My whole body jerks at her words. “You told me to go,” I whisper. “You insisted.”

“But I didn’t think you’d actually go .”

“No?” I ask. “You thought that I would adhere to your demands. To your rules?”

She jerks her chin. Her eyes narrow on me before she rocks back on her heels. I don’t say anything, waiting for her to reply. When she does, she takes half of a step toward me. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed together, and a whole-ass look of disgust on her face.

“Our demands were to keep you safe and ensure your success,” she snaps.

I open my mouth to argue with her but decide against it. Instead, I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing that it’s not worth it. I’m never going to be the person she wants me to be, and I’m okay with that. She isn’t okay with it, but I am.

“I’m safe,” I state.

Staring at her, I know that if I even brought up the fact that she said she wouldn’t support me if I didn’t follow her requests, she would deny it. I can tell she’s in one of her very normal moods of pretending that she didn’t say and mean something that she most certainly did both say and mean.

“Pack your things. We’re going home,” she grinds out.

I stare at her, my lips parted slightly, and then I shake my head once. I open my mouth to tell her that she’s freaking crazy when I hear a deep voice sound behind me. A deep voice that I love hearing, especially when he’s rasping dirty things in my ear—devilish things.

“James isn’t going anywhere,” he growls.

My mother’s entire body spins around as if her feet aren’t even touching the ground, and then she snaps her head back, and I imagine her eyes are as wide as saucers as she looks up at the man who is Nashville.

“She isn’t?” my mother asks snottily, obviously over her shock at the man standing in front of her. “Says who?”

That’s when Nash’s lips curve up into a smile, but it’s not just any smile. It’s a cat-ate-the-canary smile… it’s a predatory smile. And it’s so hot that I have to press my thighs together. Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment as I wait for this interaction to commence.

I know it’s going to get really ugly because nothing with my mother is cool, calm, or collected—it’s always ugly. She thrives off it, which I now understand is another reason why Andrea left.

“Says her man.”

You could hear a pin drop, then bounce a few times before it settles. That’s how quiet it is in here. But then something happens, and I watch in both shock and awe as my father speaks up.

He usually stays quiet, following the lead of anything and everything my mother says. If he ever disagrees with her, it’s done in private, because I’ve never heard it except for right now. At this moment, he speaks up.

“You wanted this. You wanted James to do as you wished or be on her own. She chose a life on her own, just like Andrea. You must let her live her life,” he says.

Instantly, my heart hurts for my father, but at the same time, this is the life he’s allowed, as much as I hate it for him, for Andrea, and for me. I also know that he hasn’t cared enough to truly speak out, not until now.

“I did not,” my mother grinds out. “I wanted no such thing. All I wanted was for James to have the life that she deserves, and this is not it.”

“That’s not true,” I speak up.

All three people shift their attention to me. Taking a step forward, I inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly and continue to talk because I’m not going to allow my mother to shit on me or Nash.

“You wanted me to have the life that you wanted for me. I didn’t have a choice. It was your way or the highway. It’s always like that. And it was immature of me to walk away the way I did, but it was unfair of you to expect what you did out of me, too. I’m not going anywhere because I’m in love with Nash.”

She can’t speak. I know I’ve rendered her speechless again. But I don’t care. Walking past her, I make my way toward Nash’s side and slide my arm around his waist. “I’m happy,” I state.

“Then we will leave you to your life,” my father says.

She opens her mouth to protest, but my Nash cuts her off. “Andrea was a fine woman, as is James. It’s a testament to how they were raised. But you cannot control every aspect of someone’s life.”

“How old are you?” my mother asks, ignoring everything else that has been said.

Ignoring all the compliments that Nash gave her, ignoring his mention of Andrea. My heart breaks because she doesn’t get it. She never will, either, and she doesn’t care. Maybe my father does, but he’s already spoken up more than he ever has, and he chooses to become invisible and silent yet again.

“I’m old enough to know that you’re fucking up all over again.”

I halfway expect her head to spin around on her shoulders. The anger is clearly etched all over her face, but instead of saying anything, she jerks her chin in the air and looks down her nose toward me right before she narrows her eyes.

Okay.

“I’m happy here with Nash, and I’m not going anywhere,” I say.

“Then, once again, you’ve done nothing but disappoint me. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Then she spins around and walks out of the house without another word. My gaze flicks to my father. He gives me a small smile, then he turns away and follows behind her. It doesn’t surprise me, but what does is the pang of sadness that wrenches in my stomach.

I shouldn’t be upset, but there is something extremely final about this moment. If I had any hope for a life with my parents in it, that dream is now over.

NASH

The Bishops are full-on pieces of shit.

I’m not surprised that Vixen bounced as soon as she fucking could and that James was ready to sell her body and her soul to whoever would buy her. Those people would make anyone willing to do whatever the fuck to get away from them. Since James didn’t have a plan for the future, she felt as if she had no choice.

Pulling her closer to me, I dip my chin and find her gaze with my own. “You good?” I ask.

Her eyes meet mine. They’re watery, but the tears don’t fall. She gives me a small smile, her lips trembling as she does. “I’m okay,” she whispers.

Dipping my chin, I touch my lips to her forehead. “You’re not, but you will be.”

“I will?” she asks in a whisper.

Humming, I lift my head, my eyes connecting with hers again before I speak. “Yeah, you fuckin’ will, sweetheart, because I’m going to make sure of that shit.”

I’m going to make damn fucking sure, too. I will spend the rest of my life making her feel every bit as perfect as she is. Because to me, that’s exactly what she is— perfect . And those assholes don’t fucking deserve the woman she is. They never did.

“I wonder if my real mother would have done things differently,” she murmurs.

Fuck.

I feel guilty as fuck.

I didn’t personally kill Vixen, but I wasn’t against it either. She betrayed the club. I understood why, but that didn’t change the fact that she did it, and she knew the consequences.

“Your mother lived her life on her terms. We can all look back and wish that we did things differently, but if we had, we wouldn’t be where we are right this minute. Same goes for you.”

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. Then she lets out a breath. “Do you think that we would be right here if you’d done those things in your past differently?”

I chuckle, my gaze searching hers, and then I lower my head to brush my lips across hers before I straighten again. “James, there is no fucking doubt in my mind that every fucking road I could have taken would have led me to you eventually. I’m just so fucking happy that I’m here with you right now.”

“I love you, Nashville Stanley. I love you so much, and I’m scared to death.”

“Yeah?” I ask. “Nothing to be scared of, sweetheart, because I fuckin’ love you, too. Nothing will ever touch you again. Not a goddamn thing. You’re mine, and you’re not going anywhere.”

And I mean that with every fiber of my being.

She is not going any-fucking-where ever again.

James is mine.