Page 49 of Filthy Savage

Every second of it.

Especially this whole thing, this protection thing, this guard—this man, Evan Hughes.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

BREW

Nash stares at King,then flicks his attention between us. He doesn’t speak right away. He is staring, and he even shifts in his seat as if he doesn’t want to tell us who the fuck is in charge of the Southern Mafia. I open my mouth to demand that he speak, but before I can say a word, he begins to talk.

Sucking in a breath, I wait for his words. “The Southern Mafia isn’t just a Shreveport thing, you’re right. The man who was running the one in Shreveport and his grandson were nothing but a blip to the whole organization.”

“Like the Dark Horse?” I ask.

“Just like that,” Nash murmurs.

“What happens now that everyone is gone?” Atomic asks. “We killed them all, no fucks given.”

Nash nods his head once, then hums. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he says. “I don’t know if the main club is going to care,” he murmurs.

“Where are they?” I ask.

“Richmond.”

Blinking, I try to gather my thoughts. Richmond. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought maybe they were in New Orleans or something, but Richmond? Didn’t cross my fucking mind in the slightest.

“As in Virginia?” King asks.

Nash chuckles. “As in Virginia. They’re called the Southern Mafia for a reason. They’re all over the South.”

“Fuck,” Atomic hisses. “How did we not know this?” he demands. “Why didn’t you tell us when all of it started?”

Nash leans back in his seat, his gaze focused on Atomic now. “It’s not my job to tell you dick,” he states. “You’re the president of an MC and have been for a while. Why the fuck didn’t you know who your enemies were?”

Atomic stands, slamming his palms on the table as he leans forward, his face just a few inches from Nash’s.

“Don’t pull that shit with me. You knew that we were walking into this shit with them blind. They weren’t on our radar at all. Fuck, you even connected us with the goddamn ex-leader.”

Nash doesn’t even flinch at his move. He isn’t intimidated by a damn thing, but when I flick my gaze over to King, I can tell he’s upset, and it’s not aimed at his father. Instead, he’s staring at Atomic like he’s ready to pounce on him and tear his ass up.

Atomic needs to understand that while he’s the president, it’s Nash who relinquished that title to him, and King is his actual son. Blood runs fucking thick, and King isn’t going to stand for Atomic fucking over his dad in any way whatsoever.

“I connected you with someone who could rein in those idiots who were running that chapter. I connected you with someone who would agree to and adhere to a treaty. I can’t control that Loner was a fucking piece of shit and his grandfather couldn’t keep him in line.”

Atomic shakes his head, his expression nothing short of exasperated. “Nash,” he growls, “what the fuck is going on here? We need to know everything. All of it.”

Atomic is insistent, and I don’t blame him, but I have a feeling that Nash didn’t give us all the information for a reason. And I’m ready to hear that reason. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare at him.

When Nash doesn’t respond, I watch as Atomic sinks back down in the chair. He lets out a heavy sigh and jerks his chin toward Nash in an effort to tell him to continue without actually saying the words.

“The Southern Mafia has never been an issue. They operate like us, on the fringe of society. But unlike us, they deal in skin. Prostitution, trafficking. It’s not something I ever wanted to dabble in.”

“So, what the fuck?” Atomic grunts.

Nash runs his fingers through his short hair. He looks tired and right now is looking more his age than his usual, twenty years younger. I hate this shit. All of it. What the fuck is wrong with them doing their shit and us doing ours? Why the hell did it have to go like this?

“What do you think the main club in Virginia knows or wants from us?” Atomic asks.

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