Page 14 of Filthy Liar

A war that is going to take me away from Dillion for at least a few days, and that fucking sucks.

“Everyone sit,” Atomic barks. “We got a goddamn problem.”

And that’s when he tells everyone what’s happened, where Vixen is, and who has her. Because she’s being held against her will by the fucking Demon Guns. Fuck them all. Every single one of them. We’re going to not only disgrace the entire club, we’re going to end them all.

Not a single soul in that goddamn clubhouse is safe.

DILLION

Sitting straight up,I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment. Looking around, I try to find what’s woken me up. There’s nothing. The house is quiet. The sun is shining. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I squeeze my thighs together.

Last night wasn’t a dream, not that I thought it was, but I’m sore. And satisfied. I wish he were here, that he were behind me when I woke up. Maybe that’s part of the reason I feel odd. Alone. I’m always alone and want nothing more than to have him there.

My secret lover.

The faceless, nameless man who makes me scream.

Moving into the bathroom, I take care of my business, then start the water. A few moments later, steam fills the room. I step into the hot shower and let out a heavy sigh as the hot water washes over me.

Closing my eyes, I can’t help but think about my brother. He’s gone. I still can’t believe he’s dead, that everyone in my family is dead. I’m alone, and as much as I feel alone, I also feel at peace, except for a job. I do need one of those, and I didn’t get much work-searching done yesterday.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I try to breathe. I feel like I’m drowning. I’m close to drowning. I need to make myself useful. I won’t be able to go on without a job for much longer. Something needs to give when it comes to that.

Dressing quickly, I take my phone and look up the address for Sal’s Bar. I definitely couldn’t strip, but if there is something else I can do, I’m willing. Grabbing a bottle of water, I take my keys off the counter and head toward my car.

I start the engine then look down at the GPS and touch the start button. Gripping my steering wheel, I listen to the guide tell me where to go. It only takes me a few minutes to pull into the parking lot of the bar.

Everything looks empty but amazing. The building is huge. By the name alone, I imagined a dinky, scandalous-looking brick building, but this place is huge, bright even. I hope it’s nice inside, and I really hope they will hire me.

There isn’t much else here. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay in Pineville if I don’t find a place to work. I’ll have to sell my brother’s house, and then I won't have anywhere to go. I’m sure I could find an apartment or a hotel somewhere to rent for a while, but I still wouldn’t have a job.

I also have no real skills to fall back on. Being the granddaughter of a crime boss isn’t really much of a flex. I don’t think any employer would give much of a fuck about it, and infact, they would probably see it as a bad thing and not hire me at all.

Gripping the steering wheel, I decide to call the number on the website. Two rings are all it takes for a man to pick up.

“Yeah, you got Sal,” he says.

I almost end the call instantly. I’m not a brave person. I’m not even a semi-brave person. I am weak and sad, pathetic even. In fact, all I’ve done is take this free house that was probably bought with some kind of blood money. No doubt off the back of some innocent person.

“I was wondering if you’re hiring,” I blurt out, unable to hide the trembling of my voice when I speak.

There is a moment of silence. Then he chuckles before he speaks. “Guessing you ain’t gonna strip for me?” he asks.

I blink a few times, trying to think of the words to answer him. I don’t know what to say. What to do. Then I force myself to speak because if I don’t, I’ll feel like an even bigger idiot, and I’ll replay this every single night before I fall asleep until the day I die… I still might, anyway—I probably will.

“No, not stripping,” I finally force out.

He grunts. “Might need someone in the card room. You come by the bar at three this afternoon. I’ll size you up.”

Before I can say anything else, confirm or deny the demand, he ends the call. Flicking my gaze down to my phone, I stare at it for a moment, unsure if he truly ended the call. He did. Then I shift my attention up to the bar.

The card room. That sounds promising. My family loved cards. Everyone in the Southern Mafia was big on thinking they were something fucking special, and that meant they thought they were special and god’s gift in every aspect of life, cards included.

This is the most promising lead I have. Starting the car, I shift it intoDriveand head back into town. There isn’tmuch here—the main street, a small grocery store, and another market, along with an almost miniature post office.

Pulling into the market, I wonder If they are hiring. I’m not sure I’ll be able to work at the casino. Maybe there is something a little tamer for me—the grocery store, maybe a boutique.

Although I’m not sure any of them would be enough to live off on my own, since I don’t have a house payment, maybe I could make it work. I think I could make it work. I just need enough money for utilities, food, and necessities.

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