Page 8 of Filthy Hot

“Sal said you needed a ride,” she says with a smile.

Maybe I shouldn’t feel safe with her, considering I don’t even know her, but I grab my bag and slide off the stool. Hitching myduffel over my shoulder, I give her a smile, because I actually do feel safe with her. This whole scenario gives me zero bad vibes.

“I’m Kyle, by the way,” I introduce myself.

She continues to grin at me. “I’m Bren,” she says. “The motel in town is just a few miles away. It’s clean, and the people running it are great. I’ve stayed there before.”

“Thanks,” whisper.

I follow behind her and climb into her gorgeous, brand-new, lifted four-door Jeep Wrangler. The Jeep is awesome. I’ve seen them on the road before, drooling with envy as they passed by me, but I have never been inside one.

Bren gives me a grin and a wink before she starts the engine. Then she’s off, and the girl drives this Jeep like we’re in an off-road race… I love every second. I decide that when I’m able to, I’m buying one of these for myself. It may take me a decade, but I’m doing it.

GNAW

Atomic arches a brow at me.I’ve read the proposal to myself and then aloud to him. Sal’s proposal. He can financially do a lot. Truly, he doesn’t need us or our money, but he wants us involved for protection.

Protection is the main thing he’s after here. I know without a doubt that there is more to this story, and reading the documents told the story, or at least part of it. It’s not the local cops and the feds that he has to worry about. They’re all in on his shit. They’re all frequent visitors of Sal’s Bar, both back rooms.

“The goddamn Southern Mafia?” Atomic asks. “What the actual fuck?”

I snort, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah, the fucking Southern Mafia. I didn’t even know they were still around. Ithought they disbanded years ago when their leader retired and moved to Arizona, but I guess they’ve been flying under the radar.”

Atomic picks up the paper again, reading it as he lets out a heavy sigh. “Fuck, there’s nothing we can do,” he says.

Frowning, I start to ask him what he means by that, but I don’t have to because he continues to speak.

“There’s nothing we can do except support him. We’ll be his backers and his protection. Sal is part of Pineville, and no way those fucks are going to invade our territory. In fact, I think we need to abolish them completely. Because fuck them. They don’t get to come into Texas.”

“I agree,” I say. “But are we ready to take on more? A bar, a strip club, and a gambling club?” I ask. “We’ve got keg deliveries, loan collections, and merchandise distribution deliveries.”

Atomic stands and walks over to the window. He stares outside, rocks back on his heels, then spins around to face me. His eyes find mine, and his lips curve up into a grin. He chuckles, and finally, he speaks.

“Okay,” he says, “we don’t necessarily have resources, but what we do have is the ability to gather them.”

“How?” I ask.

Dipping his chin, he lets out a long sigh. “Let’s regroup," he begins. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I knew I needed to restructure some things. Prospects can do all the keg deliveries. That shit is busy work. It keeps us, as a club, somewhat honest. Members can focus on warehouse deliveries. And the office-holding members can help out Sal.”

“You want me and the rest of the officers to do club business and run a gambling and strip club?” I ask.

He jerks his chin, then walks around the front of the desk and leans against it. I watch as he grips the edge, his eyes finding mine again.

“I know we’re busy, but taking keg and warehouse deliveries off the table will free us up a bit. All of you, in my cabinet, you’re the ones I trust with something like this. The other guys won’t be able to handle the strippers.”

“You think we will?” I ask.

He snorts. “Two of us are married with old ladies and babies. The other ones are old enough to keep their dicks in their pants for the job. I think that’s the best solution to this issue. And honestly, I don’t want just anyone when it comes to the Southern Mafia. I needmymen.”

Then his men are who he will get—proudly.

“Sal’s going to love this shit,” I point out.

“Good, I think it’s going to be beneficial as fuck.”

And that is that.

We are now in charge of Sal’s Bar, the expansion of the strip club, and the gambling house. I laugh, knowing that Sal is going to be over the moon about this. I’m also not mad at the fact that I get to see strippers on the regular.

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