Page 40 of Filthy Savage

Together, we walk into Sal’s Bar, a place that I never thought I would step foot inside of in my entire life. It’s a strip club, gambling house, and bar. It’s the most popular place within at least a fifty-mile radius.

My brother would probably die on the spot if he knew I was in here. That thought makes me smile. Then I see Kyle standing behind the bar. She lifts her hand and waves toward us, then hurries over, wrapping her arms around me in an embrace.

A few moments later, we’re seated, lunch has been ordered, and both Ophelia and I have a sparkling drink in front of us. Ophelia knew what I needed. When we’re halfway through our drinks, our food arrives, and almost like a switch has been flipped, I’m no longer in a sad mood.

Food, friends, and booze have instantly lifted my spirits, although I think it’s mostly the food and friends more than anything. Halfway through the meal, we’re joined by both Shawn and Ryan as well.

My happiness instantly—doubled.

BREW

“The old man is dead.Loner is dead. What the fuck do we have to worry about?” Fate asks.

He usually doesn’t say much, so I’m a bit surprised by his words. But he’s not wrong. No matter Loner’s warnings, that whole fucking organization is dead and gone. We also haven’t been able to find any links to any larger clubs anywhere else that are affiliated with them, either.

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling,” Atomic states.

“What do we do about a feeling?” I ask.

I’m not trying to be a dick. My brother’s feelings and his gut intuition are typically spot on, but I can’t see the point in being cautious about this. They’re gone. Another enemy bites the dust. What’s the point of walking on eggshells? We have bigger fish to fry, so to speak.

“No fucking clue,” Atomic states. At least he doesn’t have a clue, either. We all stare at one another, unsure of what to say. “Nothing to do,” Atomic continues. “Except keep our ears to the ground. Now, let’s go over collections, warehouse shipments, and keg deliveries. What changes, what stays the same?” he asks

“We could go back to the original route now that the Southern Mafia contract is null and void. That seems to be safer than the one we’ve been taking,” I suggest.

Atomic nods his head. “All in favor?” he asks.

The whole room calls outAyein unison.Aye. And that is that. We are back to our regular schedule, which everyone is happy about, except maybe me because that means I have to redo the entire fucking schedule.

Shit could be worse, but how fucking annoying. As the room empties, the men filtering out, Atomic doesn’t go anywhere. Instead, he sinks down in his chair. I’ve got my iPad in front of me. Opening the app I use to organize everything, I begin to start working in silence.

“Evan,” he grunts.

I’m surprised he’s using my real name. I lift my head, my eyes find his, and I tilt my head to the side as I watch him. “Grover,” I murmur.

“What are your thoughts on the Southern Mafia?”

I’m surprised he’s asking my opinion. We are brothers by blood and also by choice. However, we don’t have many deep conversations with one another. He knows he can come to me the same way that I know I can go to him for anything—ever.

“Your feelings are valid. I don’t think it’s done. I just don’t know where to go with it.”

He dips his chin in a single nod. “I’m going to have protection on the old ladies twenty-four seven. That includes Spencer at the cabin.”

“But?” I ask, feeling there is one coming.

“I want you to pack a bag. We’re taking King with us to visit Nash. He knows more, and I want to hear from him. Plus, I want to see the progress with his club.”

Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I clear my throat. Honestly, I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to leave Spencer, not that I am necessarily worried about her. She’s safe here, especially under the protection of the club.

She’s got her work, and she’s got Ophelia. But I know she’s got a lot coming up real fast with her brother being transferred to Texarkana. I want to be here for that. But at the same time, what the fuck am I going to do about it? To a degree, it is what it fucking is. A prison visit.

“Let’s do this,” I state.

Even if I want to be here, even if I want to go to bed and wake up beside Spencer, this is more important. This is safety. This could be life or death, and we need answers. Nash is going to be the one with those answers.

“Leave in two hours. Go say your goodbyes,” he murmurs just as his phone starts buzzing on the table.

He frowns, then picks up his device and slides his thumb across the screen before he speaks. “Atomic,” he grunts as his greeting, sounding rough as fuck. He’s quiet, his eyes widening before they flick to meet mine. His lips slowly curve up into a smile. “With Ophelia?”

---