Page 16 of Filthy Devil

I would fucking love nothing more than to keep her locked away in a bedroom, naked. One taste of her was clearly not enough. I’m already jonesing for more.

“Because it seems like this is all some big elaborate thing, and I’m confused as to why I’m here, specifically why I’m in a strip club.”

Watching her for a long moment, I try to think of how to answer her. “I’ve already told you, James. Dark Horse wanted you protected away from Pineville and Shreveport. I brought youhere because if anyone came looking for you, this wouldn’t be one of the places they showed up.”

“Who would come looking for me?” she asks.

It’s cute. The way she pretends as if she has no clue who would be looking for her. Leaning forward, I place my forearms on the cool countertop, my eyes focused on hers and looking nowhere else.

“Sweetheart, those men that had you, that have likely already sold you, they’re going to come looking to collect. They want their payday, and the buyer wants his prize.”

Her eyes widen, then she presses her lips together and rolls them a few times, an expression and movement that I’ve come to notice is one she often uses when she’s thinking about something and trying to figure out what she’s going to actually say to me.

“I agreed to their terms,” she whispers.

Humming, I reach out and touch her wrist that is resting on the counter. She flicks her gaze down to my hand resting against her skin, then slowly lifts her eyes to meet mine.

“You agreed to their terms, but did you even know what you were signing? Plus, that shit is illegal as fuck. You are only bound to them in the underworld. Out on top, they can’t do a fucking thing.”

“But this is the underworld, too, isn’t it?” she asks, lifting her hand and twirling her finger around.

Jerking my chin with a smirk, I clear my throat. “Yeah, which is why it’s up to me to keep you safe until you’re out on top and living whatever life you choose for yourself.”

She pulls her hand away from mine and stands, abandoning half of her food and turning her back to me. I watch as she makes her way over to the small window that looks out at the ocean. I know that’s what it looks over because I stood there a million times while we were remodeling and then rebuilding this place.

“You should have just left me there,” she whispers. “I’m nothing, nobody special. There is literally no reason to have taken me like that. I’m not going to change the world out here, and nobody will even miss me.”

Instead of telling her that she’s full of shit, I push away from the counter and move toward her. Her back is still to me, and I stop when I’m close enough to touch her but far enough away that I’m not in her space.

“Not leaving you somewhere to be used, abused, and thrown away like trash,” I grind out.

Her spine straightens at my words. I don’t expect her to spin around and tilt her head back. I’m not sure what I expect to see when she looks up at me, but it’s not complete fucking torture.

“Except that’s what is going to happen to me. I have nothing. I have no purpose and no education. And college isn’t something I’m interested in. The only hope I have is that someone will marry me and take care of me. If that doesn’t happen, I’m destined to be a whore like my biological mother.”

I wince at the mention of Vixen and her whore status. I could tell James that she wasn’t that, but it would be a lie because she was. She’s also dead and was discarded like the fucking traitor she was.

However, I can’t tell her any of it because then she would think she is predestined to the same fate as her mother, and that’s just not true. At least it doesn’t have to be. Until she completely panicked and lost herself, Vixen was a good woman.

“So don’t let yourself be that. You’re only twenty. You have a whole life ahead of you.”

She shrugs a shoulder and places her palm against the center of my chest. Her touch is warm, her eyes putting off that doe-in-headlights thing. I’m sure it’s an act of self-preservation and all that shit, but still, I know exactly what she’s doing.

Am I the fucking asshole for taking her up on her offer even though I know exactly what she’s doing and how she’s doing it? She wants to secure her place here with me. She thinks that giving me her body is going to do that.

It won’t.

I’m too fucking old and set in my ways to have her manipulate me with her cunt, no matter how good it is.

I wrap my fingers around her wrist and squeeze gently. “Sweetheart, if this is your way to try and secure yourself, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I brought you here to protect you, but I’m not going to make you my old lady.”

Her eyes widen, and I watch as she pulls her hand away, dropping it to her side. Her fingers ball into a fist as she stands in front of me. Goddamn, she looks good. She presses her lips together, pursing them as she narrows her gaze on me.

I didn’t give her the answer she was looking for, which is fine. She’s not always going to get what she wants, especially not on this path she’s chosen to go down. But I’m going to keep her safe, and hopefully, together, we’ll figure out where she belongs.

“I’m not going to be my mother,” she hisses. “I refuse.”

My lips twitch into a smirk. “Sweetheart, your mother chose the life she wanted, and she lived it. The men at the clubhouse loved her, not just for her body, but because, for all intents and purposes, she was a good woman…” My words trail off.

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