Page 3 of Filthy Liar

Given to me by the laws of our world.

Even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Starting my engine, I rev it as I walk the bike backward out of her driveway. Looking over to the house, I flick my attention toward the bedroom window. I see her there. She’s standing atthe window. I thought she was asleep, but I probably woke her up when I was leaving.

Thankfully, her driveway isn’t very well lit, so I’m pretty sure she can’t see my face right now. Jerking my chin toward her, I leave. Even though every ounce of my body is begging me to stay—I don’t.

The bike moves through town as I guide it straight out of the city limits. The roads are empty, making it easy to maneuver through the streets. Sal’s Bar comes into view, the only busy place at this time of night. I ride right past and make my way toward the clubhouse.

As I ride, I think about the future. Dillion might be mine, but I haven’t staked my claim publicly. I will. When the time is right. I’m still not acclimated to life on the outside. I was only away for three years, but it felt like a goddamn lifetime.

I missed a lot of things that happened in the world. One of them was the fact that my sister fell in love with one of my brothers. He still has an ass beating coming to him for that shit.

As I ride, I think about that. I should be pissed as fuck at them, but I had three years to think about it. At the end of the day, I’ve decided it doesn’t matter how it happened. All I give a fuck about is the fact that my sister is home.

Here with me. Where she’s always belonged and where she needs to be. I also know that Brew loves her. He wouldn’t fuck her over because he knows I’d fucking kill him—slowly.

The weekly visits helped ease that pain, that anger of them getting together while I was locked up. There’s also the happiness that has been clearly written all over her face. That has helped, too.

Pulling into the clubhouse parking lot, I kill my bike’s engine and stay where I am, straddling the seat as I stare forward. I’m not looking at anything, really. There’s nothing much to see, but that doesn’t mean my mind isn’t racing.

Brew has asked me for my sister’s hand. I agreed, of course. He’s going to propose soon, and all is right in the world.

Except it’s not.

There is Dillion.

There is the Southern Mafia.

There is my prison sentence.

I’m not sure there is any kind of solution to any of it. Throwing my leg over the seat, I make my way into the clubhouse, stopping when I step fully into the bar. It’s a Thursday night, by all accounts.

It’s quiet, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a party of some kind happening. There’s always something, even if it’s just the clubwhores putting on a show for us. Because there is—always something.

Vixen appears by my side. I’ve already come twice tonight. I don’t think I could rally again, but when my gaze swings over to meet hers, I can tell she isn’t here to fuck. She’s got something on her mind.

“Vix?” I ask.

“Can I talk to you?”

Jerking my chin, I give her a single nod. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Privately?”

Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guide her toward my room. My body is fucking spent, so I won’t be getting her naked tonight. However, nobody will even look twice at the two of us going into my room. I’ve fucked Vixen more times than I can count, along with everyone else here.

Once we reach my bedroom door, I push it open. She moves inside and walks straight toward the window, where she stops. Closing the bedroom door behind me, I place my hands on my hips as I wait for whatever it is she’s going to say.

“I have a sister,” she announces, her voice barely above a whisper right before she spins around. Her gaze finds mine, connecting before she speaks again. “I want you to take her.”

CHAPTER

TWO

DILLION

My alarm soundsfrom my phone, blaring in my ear, and I’m not even sure why I set it. In fact, I shouldn’t have. I set it in the hope of doing more with myself, but I’m too exhausted to care.

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