Page 23 of Filthy Devil

I snort as well because wouldn’t that be fucking something? “I’m not delusional, fucker. First off, I would be over sixty when the kid started school. Secondly, James is twenty. No way in hell is she going to want to settle down and have kids with an old fuck like me.”

And that’s the sad truth of it all. The time when I could have done that, settled down with one woman, made babies, and created a life the way my son is doing, that part of my life has passed for me. There is no going back, and I’m good with that.

“Okay, Dad,” he mutters. But it sounds like he’s sayingokayjust to shut me up. I almost tell him to fuck off but decide against it.

“Now, tell me how my grandsons are,” I demand, changing the subject.

He chuckles, and the conversation easily transitions to Brendan and Chase, my two grandsons. I don’t like to say that any one kid is perfect, but they are. They are fucking perfection, and I would fight anyone who told me otherwise.

“Are you coming for Chase’s birthday?” he asks.

“Text me the date and everything. You know I’ll be there.”

Elvis clears his throat before we hang up, and I wait for whatever it is he has to say. “Dad,” he calls out. Still, I wait in silence. “Thanks for being such a good father and grandfather. I know we both missed out when I was younger, but I’m glad we’re where we are now.”

“Couldn’t ask for a better kid,” I state.

Then I end the call. Otherwise, I’m going to cry like a goddamn pussy, and neither of us wants that. Closing my eyes, I tip my face to the ceiling and try not to think about James. I try not to think about her body, about her smile, and about the way her warm, wet cunt feels wrapped around my cock.

I try. And I fucking fail.

CHAPTER

NINE

NASH

Makingmy way into the bar from my office, I look around and notice that the clubhouse is a bit light tonight. Our club isn’t like the others in the Dark Horse MC. We’re made up of mostly old fucks who are ready to retire. But then we got bored and thought opening a strip club would be the best way to retire.

I have to admit, minus a little drama here and there with the dancers, it’s been a lot more relaxing than when I was actually running the original charter of the MC. The strip club is fun, mostly a bunch of paperwork and shit, but still fun.

The bartender is a kid who wants to prospect for the club. He’s only eighteen, and while we don’t really do the whole prospect thing here, I thought it would be nice to have a few kids do just that.

Mainly because none of us wants to bartend and sweep up around the clubhouse, but also, it’s nice to have some men we can teach shit to.

Our kids are all running their own clubs and don’t need us up in their shit.

Unless it’s like Atomic and King, who definitely needed me in their shit to straighten them out. Now they know what they’re doing, and they are on it. They won’t need me again for a good long while. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Tommy G is sitting at the end of the bar, a beer in one hand and an empty shot glass in the other. He’s our resident bar prop in the club. He doesn’t fuck the whores, he doesn’t go on rides, and he doesn’t go to the strip club. He sits at the corner of the bar, day in and day out.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, walking up to the bar beside him.

He smirks, then lifts his bottle to his lips and takes a long pull. “Seems like you got everyone interested in the new snatch you brought in. They’re all down at the strip club.”

My main men, Bugsy and the rest of the crew who went to get her, know that she’s off fucking limits. They also know that I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with her yet, so I can’t imagine why the fuck the rest of these guys would be going down to the strip club to see a whole lot of nothing.

Instead of standing around and questioning an old drunk, I turn around and walk out of the door, heading straight for my bike. Climbing on, I start the engine and roar out of the clubhouse parking lot. Rocks, sand, and gravel fly all around me, but I don’t stop or slow down.

I want to know what the fuck is going on, and I’m not going to figure it out sitting around a nearly empty clubhouse drinking beer. I hadn’t realized how late it was getting. It’s already dark as I approach the strip club.

The lights shine brighter than anything else on this street. We made sure that our club stood out more than any other one on the block because we’re the Dark Horse MC, and we don’t do anything half-assed.

Pulling my bike into my designated spot, I kill my engine and climb off before I head into the club through the back entrance.The music is playing. It’s strong rhythmic beats that move through your entire body and make you think about sex, about needing sex, about having sex. Which is exactly what we want to make the money flow here.

As I walk toward the main dance area, my gaze scans the stage, and I’m glad to see that James’s tits are not on display up there. Then I search the audience, and there isn’t any sign of her there either, or any of my brothers.

Making my way toward the upstairs area, I frown at the sight of the sex room door. It’s closed. I know for a fact that it wasn’t rented out tonight since I’m the one who handles those bookings personally.