Page 95 of Filthy Liar

Where she’s always belonged. She was never meant for the Southern Mafia. She was born to be mine. Born to be an old lady for the Dark Horse MC and born to be my fucking woman.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

CLINK

“When do we strike?”Piston asks.

“The phone number app thing is all set up?” I ask.

He jerks his chin, his lips curving up in a grin. “It’s set the fuck up.”

Jerking my chin, I look over to Nash. I lift my hand and hold my palm up to Piston and Fate. “I’ll be right back. I gotta ask Nash something.”

I stand and walk over to Nash. He’s nursing a beer, something he doesn’t usually do. Nash is old school. A beer gets put in front of him, he drinks said beer, and that’s that. This strikes me as odd, but it’s not the reason I'm approaching him.

“You got a second?” I ask.

He arches a brow, leaning back as he brings his beer to his lips and takes a sip. Sitting down in the chair across from him, I clear my throat before I lean back in my own seat. We stare at one another for a moment, and for the first time, I really look at him.

He hasn’t been my president since I went through my year of being a prospect and became a patched member. He retired shortly after that, so I don’t know him well. He’s King’s father, and he’s the president of his chapter, so I see him often.

“You get James yet?” I ask.

He grins, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. For the first time since I've known him, he looks his age—just in this instance. In the next moment, his expression changes, and he appears fifteen years younger again.

“Not yet. She’s on a truck that is going out tonight.”

“And you’re going to handle that?” I ask. “Unless you’re going to let it go.”

He snorts, his eyes finding mine. “And she’ll go where? Into whose hands?”

I don’t bother asking him if he’s got some kind of attachment to her already. He clearly does. It’s not my business, though. It’s his shit, and if he wants to rescue Vixen’s daughter and keep her for herself, that’s on him.

“I’ll be getting her tonight and taking her back to Corpus.”

Dipping my chin slightly, I look across the table at him. “You won’t be coming back?” I ask.

Selfishly, I know Nash is a huge fucking asset to the club with this shit going down. He’s been helping gather information about the Southern Mafia and organizing it. We have a bit of a long road still ahead of us. Even if we fuck over the Demon Guns today, it’s not done and over yet. Probably won’t be for years, if I’m being honest.

“Won’t be coming back, but I’m on call if needed. And the other men in my club are ready to fucking go.”

Jerking my chin, I clear my throat. “You’ll be missed, Nash. And I fucking mean that shit with my whole goddamn chest.”

Without another word, I turn my back to him and walk back to my table. We need to get this shit sorted, handled, and get amove on it. I’m ready to send these text messages and watch the Demon Guns burn to the goddamn ground, to explode from the inside out.

“Let’s do this,” I announce as I sit down across from Piston.

I hear Fate chuckle beside me. We’re all ready. I want this war over and done with. I want my woman to be able to breathe free. To breathe easy. Laughing softly, I jerk my chin.

“Let’s fucking do this,” I rasp again.

My gaze slides to the stairs, where I find my woman standing at the top of them. She’s wearing a pair of short shorts and a cutoff tank top. Her hair is in a messy bun, and I know she’s not wearing any makeup. Not that she needs it, because she fucking doesn’t.

My woman is gorgeous no matter what she’s got on. In fact, she’s even more beautiful naked. But that’s neither here nor there. Piston fucks around on his computer. I can hear him clicking, but I can’t take my eyes off this woman of mine.

I wonder if she’s pregnant. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’ve never fucked her with a condom. I want her to be pregnant. I want my baby growing inside of her. I want her to be tied to me until the day I fucking die.

---