Page 48 of Filthy Devil

I almost growl.

But showing this man any fucking reaction to anything is something that I will not do. So I don’t show him a damn thing. Instead, I incline my head and look down my nose at him. His lips turn up into a smirk.

“You brought me here to lure James,” I recap.

He hums. “Yes, I did. But why?”

I almost laugh, because he thinks I’m going to play games with him. And playing a game is not something I intend on doing, ever. Not fucking ever. Clearing my throat, I bite the inside of my cheek in an effort not to actually have any kind of response.

That shit is hard with what an idiot this fucker is.

“I don’t give a fuck,” I state. “You kidnapped me for some fucked-up shit, and I don’t want to be involved with your fucked-up shit.”

He laughs, though it’s not a genuine laugh. It lacks emotion of any kind. I already knew he was psychotic before, and this moment confirms it.

“You’ll probably walk out of this intact as long as James comes with me.”

“I wouldn’t let her even if you killed me.”

His smile grows wider, consuming his whole face, and then he stands up, straightening his knees before he takes a step backward. He dips his chin slightly, his eyes find mine, and he holds my gaze.

“That can be fucking arranged.”

Then, without another word, he spins on his heel and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. I hear the lock click into place. There’s no way out of here, no other rooms, and only this door.

I’m fucking held captive, which is kind of comical because, in my forty years of being in an MC, living a life on the edge of society, it took a little twenty-year-old to get me kidnapped by some dumbass fucker.

If this pencil dick thinks he’s going to kidnap me and manipulate my woman into doing whatever the fuck, he’s wrong. He can’t have her, and he’s not going to have me either. My men will come, they will always have my back, and I’m going to end the lives of every motherfucker involved in this.

If they thought they were balls deep in a war with the Demon Guns MC, they haven’t even seen the beginning of war. I’m going to decimate the whole fucking group. By the end of this ordeal, the Southern Mafia will cease to exist.

I will ensure that shit.

My son and his charter want to play games and have the Demon Guns and the Southern Mafia go to war with one another, that’s fine, but I’m not sitting around and waiting for that shit to happen.

I’m going to kill them all one by one as soon as humanly possible.

Because I will be damned if someone kidnaps me, threatens me, threatens my woman, and then attempts to blackmail me.

Fuck that and fuck them.

All of them.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

JAMES

The strip clubhas a weird vibe before we even pull into the parking lot. I know without a doubt that something is off. If Bugsy and Rev feel it, too, they don’t say anything, but they also don’t sit around and hang out. They are out of the SUV before Bugsy even kills the engine.

Scrambling down from my seat, I jog behind them. When Bugsy reaches for the door, he tugs on it before he attempts to unlock it, and it opens. Looking over my shoulder, I see a bike parked in the lot. It’s the only vehicle aside from the SUV in the whole parking lot.

“This door shouldn’t be unlocked,” Rev murmurs.

Whipping my head around, I open my mouth to tell them that Nash’s bike is parked here, but snap my lips closed when both men take out guns. They hold them loosely in their hands, and at this moment, the air around us charges.

It feels almost like static electricity.

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