Page 91 of Filthy Devil

“Let me handle that part. Finalize it.”

He dips his chin in a single nod, his gaze searching mine. “The ceasefire?” Gil asks.

“Cancel the hit on my woman,” I demand.

Gil’s lips curve up into a smile. “In a show of good faith, I’ll cancel that right now.”

Without me having to ask him, he takes his phone out of his pocket and places the call on speakerphone. The hit is canceled. And I do the same. Although Atomic sounds pissed, I tell him the situation or what he needs to know about it, promising a meet to explain it all in detail soon. I ask him to trust me, and thankfully, he does.”

“Any men I have in the South will be gone within the week,” Gil states.

I reach for James’s hand but don’t take her palm in mine until she places it there herself. Only then do I curl my fingers around her palm and turn toward the door. I take one step, then another, then stop and look back over my shoulder.

“Your men don’t pull out, I’ll call off the ceasefire. And we will not stop until you’re dead.”

Gil dips his chin, his eyes focused on mine, and I can see understanding behind his gaze. “I’m not Conrad or anyone in that fucking family. This is a new Southern Mafia. I’m done with this little shit.”

“I don’t want to be included in the big shit,” I point out.

He chuckles. “I’m going international, Nashville. You’re no longer on my radar. Enjoy your life with your woman there,” he says, dipping his chin to James.

Without another word, I guide her out of the room, head straight for the elevator, and then we’re inside the car and heading straight down. We need to have a discussion, she and I, but it’s not going to happen here.

In fact, it’s going to wait until we are at home—alone.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

JAMES

Shit.

Oh. Shit.

Nash is pissed.

Not just a little pissed either, but he is livid. I’m completely quiet as I walk into the house. Standing in the middle of the living room, I drop my shoes on the floor and pinch my eyes closed, inhaling a deep breath and letting it out slowly before I turn around to face him.

Nash is standing across from me, his arms crossed over his chest, his chin tipped slightly as he looks down his nose at me. We stare at one another in silence, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s going to say because it’s clear that he has something on his mind.

“You want to leave?” he asks. “Feel fucking free because there isn’t a price on your head any longer. You’re free, James. Free to do whatever the fuck you want.”

Pinching my eyes closed, I let out a heavy exhale as I focus my attention on him. He doesn’t say anything. He’s waiting forme to respond. I don’t know what I want to say to him. I want to tell him that I love him, but it seems backhanded.

If I loved him so much, why did I walk away from him? At least, that’s what I would be thinking if the roles were reversed. I would be hurt if he kept trying to get away from me. And here I am, doing the same thing.

“I’m sorry, although I’m sure that doesn’t mean much.”

He tilts his head to the side. “What do you want, James? Because I know what I want, and I thought I was really fucking clear on it. I thought you trusted me, and we were on the same goddamn page.”

My heart beats so fast I’m pretty sure Nash can see it beneath my skin. I shift my weight from foot to foot. My eyes search his for a long moment, and then I move toward him.

One step, then another, but I don’t get close enough to touch him. I stay away, too afraid to actually speak. I’m not sure what to say to make this better.

“I fucked up. I freaked out, and I screwed everything up,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.

Pressing my lips together, I try to blink back the tears, but they don’t go away. They roll down my cheeks in a heavy stream. Nash doesn’t move. He watches me, his face completely expressionless.

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