Page 73 of Filthy Hot

Things begin clicking into place. “And the men who were once part of the Southern Mafia?” I ask. “Because they were big, huge even.”

Nash shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t know the inner workings of their shit, but my guess would be that they all fucking bounced when Grandpa’s little prince took over. Because I know I would if I had to follow a single order that little shit gave me.”

Nash is probably right.

We didn’t lose any members of the Dark Horse MC when Atomic took over, but it was a transition that was right for the time. The original members all left, and the new generation took over. It doesn’t sound like any of that happened with the Southern Mafia.

“So, what do we do?” I ask.

Nash takes a step backward, reaching into his pocket for his phone, and I watch as his fingers slide across the screen, then he lifts it to his ear. We watch him in silence, then listen to him.

“It’s Nash with the Dark Horse MC,” he begins. “Yeah, well, Talon fucked shit up. He’s got his whole crew taken out, including himself.”

Fuck. I don’t know if that’s how I would have opened the conversation, but Nash knows better than me. He knows theSouthern Mafia, at least the original members. I’m itching to get back to Xavier and my woman.

Though, the longer we stand around here, the more time I’m wasting when I could be torturing that motherfucker.

And I will torture him—in more ways than one. I’m fucking excited about it.

“He decided to start a war with us, kidnapped people, including an old lady, tried to take over a bar that we were investors in, and attempted to force them into giving him protection money. He was trying to work his way into Texas.”

Silence. Nash doesn’t show any emotion on his face as he listens to the man on the other end of the line. He grunts after a long moment before he speaks again, and when he does, I have to say that I’m surprised by what is transpiring.

“I’ll stay in town for a few days, wait for your arrival,” Nash says. “But I’m telling you right now, there are no apologies for what’s happened to Talon. And we will not, absolutely not, allow anyone into Texas.”

Nash ends the call and shoves his phone in his pocket. “We need to figure out a way to keep that body from rotting. Grandpa is coming to town,” he announces.

“What happens now?” Atomic asks.

It’s been a while since Nash has taken the lead of anything, so I’m a bit surprised that he is now, but at the same time, being the OG Dark Horse MC president, he’s the best person for any of this.

If anyone can keep us from heading into straight-up war, it’s him. Atomic seems to be on the edge, and I know I am ready to kill first and ask questions later. So, I’m sure he feels the same way, but Nash is a lot more coolheaded than we are—at least, that’s how he seems.

“Now,” Nash begins, “now we get this dumb fuck on ice and keep the girls locked away for Grandpa Albert to deal with. I amofficially finished cleaning up after the Southern Mafia. We deal with Albert, and that’s that.”

“Appreciate you, Dad,” King mutters.

Nash lifts his hand in a simple wave. “I’m just glad this didn’t get as nasty as I thought it might. As far as wars go, it was tame as fuck.”

It was.

I’m also not convinced that it’s completely over. I don’t think something like this is going to just be done. Especially with the death of Talon. When his grandfather gets here, no matter who is in the right, that is going to cut like a knife, and revenge will, without a doubt, be on his mind.

But I have a bunch of personal shit to handle. I can’t worry about what’s possibly to come. As far as I know, it’s over. I need to move on and handle my business. When we separate and leave the house, Sal is taken to the van along with the women.

Nash calls in another vehicle to take Talon’s body somewhere to put on ice. I don’t want to be the one in on that conversation. Before we walk out of the house, I hear a phone ring.

King and Atomic pause.

It’s coming from Talon’s pants. I walk over to him, crouch down, and pull his phone out of his pocket. The number that flashes on the screen is familiar.

Too fucking familiar.

Not only is it a local area code, which, if Talon were based in Louisiana, why the fuck would he have a local calling him? But also, I recognize it. I’m just not sure who it belongs to off the top of my head.

I pause.

Then, before I can second-guess myself, I slide my thumb across the screen and answer.

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