Page 70 of Filthy Hot

This was all planned, including the Southern Mafia’s part in it.

I’m not exactly sure how deep things go, but I still think that Dennis was involved. Although I’m pretty positive that someone from within the club is as well. Which is why church is no longer happening and why only the leaders of the club know anything at all from this point going forward.

The house in the country is new. It’s right on the border between Texas and Louisiana. In the country with nothing around for miles. It’s the perfect place to run a whole illegal club but also the perfect place to kill and be killed.

The gates open without us notifying anyone. We ride down the long dirt drive, having to dodge potholes every few feet, andI can’t help but wonder what this is like when it’s rainy out here because it’s pretty fucking rough on a dry day.

I’m not surprised to see that the house is one of those huge plantation-style homes, just like the one in Shreveport. Pulling up the circle drive, I park my bike, and the others do the same. The truck brings up the rear.

This shit has to be done today with Sal. They’ve had him for too long. We’re all worried about his safety at this point. And although we legally get the club if something were to happen to him, we would never wish for that shit.

Aside from all of that, we have visiting club members here for backup, and we need it done before they leave. I want this war off my back so I can selfishly focus on my woman, on Kyle. I want to build a life with her, and that’s hard as fuck to do with war looming over everyone.

Then there’s also the major factor of our warehouse and shipments that need to get back on schedule. A program that I am in charge of and have been slacking on for entirely too fucking long.

Granted, it’s only been a couple of weeks. But just one day can completely and totally fuck a business over. I also need to double-check the keg deliveries to ensure that those are running smoothly.

Atomic takes the lead on this, and I look around, trying to find any evidence that we’re being watched from any of the outbuildings, but I don’t see anything. That doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

I also can’t see Nash or any of our backup, but I know they’re there—knowledge that only a few of us are privy to, considering everyone has been on edge with this possible traitor in the midst.

Never did I think that we would have to watch our backs against our own brothers. This entire situation is chaotic, foreign, and fucking ridiculous that we are even in the middle ofit. But our club’s hand was forced, and now it’s time for them to fucking pay.

Atomic doesn’t knock. He’s fucking over this shit. I watch as he lifts his foot and slams his boot against the door, kicking it open. It splinters as it flies forward, and my lips twitch into a smirk at the sight of it.

With my gun loosely in my grasp, I follow behind Atomic and King as they move into the entryway of the house. The sight that greets us in the living room is Talon with a girl riding his dick, but that’s not all.

There are also about five other men sitting around, either getting fucked, sucked, or doing lines from the coffee table. It looks very much like the clubhouse on a Friday night. I’m not surprised to see any of it.

Until I see him.

Xavier.

I know what he looks like. I did a little research in between all this stuff happening. What I found out was that this motherfucker is a complete piece of shit. And now he’s getting his dick sucked by one of Talon’s girls, which makes me wonder if he’s a little closer to Talon than what was being let on.

“Fuck,” Talon hisses.

“Don’t stop on our accounts. We’ll wait,” Atomic says with a chuckle.

Guts laughs beside me. Planting my feet wide, I keep my gun to my side as Rim moves next to me, Dennis at his side. I’m not sure we can truly trust Dennis yet. I haven’t felt bad vibes from him, but it seems odd that he’s involved in this asjusta bartender.

Dennis clears his throat, and I shift my attention to him. He gives me a small smile before he speaks. “Is Kyle okay?” he asks in a whisper.

My hackles rise, but mainly because I don’t want any fucking man to ever think about Kyle again. Instead of telling him to mind his own goddamn business, I dip my chin in a single nod before I answer.

“She’s safe,” I state.

“Good,” he rasps.

The conversation ends because Talon stands to his feet, pulling his pants up as he does. I watch, arching a brow and waiting for him to speak. He is taking his time, trying to assert his dominance, but it won’t work.

He is not dominant. He’s nothing but a try-hard wannabe. He wants to be the man in charge, but he lacks the general knowledge and confidence. He has no know-how. He is nothing but a boy playing a man’s game.

“Well, it seems you’ve found me,” Talon murmurs. “But I don’t see my women.”

Atomic snorts. “And you won’t, not until this is squashed and you stay where you belong.”

“Where do you think that is?” Talon asks.

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