Page 79 of Filthy Devil

I know exactly what is happening.

James is walking up behind me.

Her hand touches the center of my back as she stops at my side. Then she speaks. Her voice is even and calm, but I know her, and I know she’s scared because she clocked this motherfucker before she even opened that front door.

JAMES

Chewing on my bottom lip,I tug a piece of dry skin off with my teeth as I stare at the exchange happening between Nash and the man in the suit. I noticed his car parked across the street about an hour ago. I kept an eye on it, waiting to see if the driver was going to step out and approach me or not, but he never did. Then, as soon as Nash’s bike pulls into the driveway, the man in the suit jumps out of his fancy black car.

I watch their exchange for a moment and wonder what it could be about. When I see Nash’s spine straighten, I know that something is being said that’s pissing him off. Gathering all the strength I can muster, I open the front door and head toward them.

Once I approach, I place my hand at the center of Nash’s back, letting him know that I’m there. I’m sure he heard me, butI want him to feel me, too. I don’t know what’s being said here, but I know that Nash wants nothing to do with any of it, and honestly, neither do I.

I made the biggest mistake of my life by signing up with the Southern Mafia. I was panicked and scared, ready to just get away from it all, not realizing that they were going to ruin me in more ways than I could have ever imagined.

Andrea saved me, my mother saved me, and if it’s the only good thing she ever did in her life, then I’m going to make sure it wasn’t in vain.

“James Bishop,” the man standing across from us announces.

“I would respond with your name, but I have no idea who you are.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “It doesn’t matter who I am. But it would be wise of you to tell your man here that he should sit down with me to discuss the future.”

Nash grunts but doesn’t speak. “I don’t tell my man he should do anything,” I whisper.

He continues to smile, although, if I’m not mistaken, the smile grows a bit at my words. He takes a step backward, holding up his palms in surrender. I fight rolling my eyes at him because I know he’s full of shit right now.

“Nashville, this will not be resolved this way. And James is too pretty for what they have planned for her.”

Without skipping a beat, Nash replies. “You act like you aren’t part of them, that you don’t have the same things planned.”

He shrugs a shoulder and lowers his hands. “You will live your life wondering when we’ll strike,” he warns.

“And you won’t live your life at all.”

The man bursts out laughing, then takes another step backward. “I’ll let you think about it overnight and be back tomorrow.”

Without another word, he turns around and walks back to his car. I watch as he sinks into the driver’s seat, and a few moments later, he’s gone. Nash doesn’t move from his place on the concrete driveway, and I stay right beside him.

Then, as if a decision has been made, his body jerks, and he spins around. He doesn’t walk toward the house as I expect, though. Instead, he looks down at me, his gaze flicking then focusing on mine.

He cups my cheek before he lowers his face to mine, and his mouth touches my own. “Nothing will touch you,” he murmurs against my lips. “Nothing.”

Reaching up, I wrap my fingers around his wrists and hold on to him. Slowly, he pulls his head backward but thankfully doesn’t move away from me. He stays right where he is, and I keep my gaze focused on his.

Squeezing his wrists, I keep his hands right where I want them. Unmoving and still touching me. My tongue peeks out, sliding across my bottom lip before I speak. When I do, I’m not sure where I’m going with my words, but I have to get them out.

“I don’t know what he wants, what he’s after, but what I do know is that you’re going to do everything in your power to protect me, Nashville. And whatever that looks like, I’m going to be right at your side, smiling.”

“Fuck,” he rasps right before he slams his mouth down against mine and kisses me—hard and with exact perfection. Because that’s who he is. Hard, rugged, and perfect.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

NASH

“What kindof deal does he want?” King asks.

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