Page 39 of Filthy Liar

“He was stabbed, but he’s already out of the hospital. Atomic is in still. He’s supposed to be released tomorrow sometime, and hopefully, we’ll be home in a few days.”

“What the fuck do you need?” he says, but I can tell he’s got his teeth gnashed together. His words come out strained and as if he’s grinding his teeth. I don’t blame him. Even though he’s in his forties, King is still his kid.

“They won’t get away with this,” I state. “But we need you to do an extraction.”

“Extraction?” he asks, his voice rising slightly.

I can tell he’s intrigued, and honestly, I would rather do that than sit here healing and feeling like absolute dog shit. Not just feeling like shit but feeling like a pile of useless shit, too.

“We got a girl. Vixen’s sister. Need her taken from the Southern Mafia trade before she’s dropped off and sold.”

There is a moment of silence. “And you can’t do it?” he asks, knowing that we do the transporting of these women.

Taking them to their brokers.

Their sellers.

Because that’s what they’re doing—they’re selling their bodies into a lifetime of sexual servitude. It’s not something I agree with, but they claim that all the women know what they’re getting into and that they have agreed to the terms.

“We were planning on it. But then this shit went down with Vixen, with being stabbed, with the Demon Guns initiating war. We have too much on our plates.”

Nash chuckles. “All at once or nothing at all, right?”

“Exactly. Can you keep her there, away from us, to keep the heat off us? We already asked if we could take her as our allotted one-woman deal, and they said she wasn’t an option.”

More silence follows. I’m sure as fuck certain he’s going to tell me to fuck off, and I’ll have to think of a different plan to put in place. But I have nothing, not a goddamn thing, as a backup. This is all I have right now.

“I’ll do it, but she works for me. Nothing’s for free in this life.”

“She works for you. Vixen will be good with it.”

He laughs, snorting before he continues. “She’ll have to be. Don’t have much of a choice. But she won’t be sold to the highest bidder, and Vixen can see and talk to her any time she wants.”

“Then I’m good with it. She will be, too. When shit cools off here, we’ll discuss the future.”

“Got my own place in Corpus. She can stay there. I’ll be with her. Keep her safe.”

I almost ask him why he doesn’t live at the clubhouse, but I decide against it. I’m too exhausted to give much of a fuck about anything right now. My eyelids grow heavy, and the pain in my side is a little too much.

I promise to text Nash with the rest of the information on when and where to pick up his new package. I also agree to tell King to call him and check in. But I don’t tell King. When I end the call, I lie down and the moment I close my eyes, the darkness consumes me, and I pass out.

It’s not sleep.

I pass out.

DILLION

The Demon Gun–vest-wearingasshole leaves me alone, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not alone. My thoughts fill whatever quietness and void are in this room. They are running through my head as if they are on a treadmill’s never-ending cycle.

What do I do with the information he’s given me?

WhatcanI do?

The short answer is absolutely nothing. I can do absolutely nothing. I’m literally tied down with no way to help myself out of this situation. And the idea that this man I’ve fallen for soquickly is not only my secret lover but also was involved with my brother and owns me sends my mind reeling.

Well, he thinks he owns me, but I don’t accept that. Not in the slightest. Nobody owns me anymore. I walked away from that life, which means I walked away from every aspect of it, including being used as any kind of bargaining chip.

It seems as though I can’t get away from it, though. That fucking family owned me. Which is why I never want that again. They owned every goddamn part of me, and I hated it. I hated everything about it.

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