Page 55 of Filthy Devil

Reaching for the knob, I twist it slowly and pray like hell that what awaits me isn’t some massive ambush. Thankfully, it isn’t. I walk into the building. The lights are on, making it brighter than I imagined.

The middle of the room holds a single chair with Nash tied to it and a man who I don’t recognize standing beside him. His gaze is predatory, almost as if he’s frothing at the mouth with excitement and anticipation.

I am, too, but in a different way.

I’ve never been into violence. However, I want this asshole dead. He has my man, the man who has not only taken care of me but made me fall for him. He didn’t have to take care of me the way he did. All he was tasked to do was protect me. I’ve fallen completely in love with him, and there is no way in hell I’m going to let my mistake hurt him.

“No entourage?” the stranger asks.

Jerking my chin up, I look down my nose at him. “Just me. Now let Nash go, like you said.”

I know this asshole is going to go back on his word. He just wanted to have his cake and eat it, too. He smirks, clears his throat, then takes a step toward me. But only one. I hold my body tightly, my muscles tense, and I am ready to grab the gun at my back and try to kill this asshole.

“I’ll let him go,” he purrs.

Again, I don’t believe a word he’s saying.

“Then let him go,” I demand.

“Strip,” he barks.

Flicking my gaze from his to Nash’s, I watch as his face turns bright red. His jaw is clenched, and I can see a muscle twitch in his cheek. The last thing I want to do is strip, and not just because I don’t want this asshole to see any part of me, but also because this gun in the back of my waistband would fall out onto the ground.

“Let Nash go,” I say, doubling down.

He tilts his head to the side, his eyes searching mine. I want to look at Nash. I want to watch him.

“No,” he barks. “I don’t think I’ll do that. Not until you strip. You’re mine now.”

Shaking my head from side to side, I reach one hand behind me while with the other, I start to lift up my shirt, exposing my stomach. Nash growls, and I wish I could look at him, that I could give him a signal or something that I have a plan.

Then, the next few things happen so fast that I don’t realize what is actually going on around me. I feel as though I’m in slow motion even though I know I’m moving quickly, and so is this stranger.

He pulls out a knife, and I take out the gun. I know that I fumble, my entire body is trembling, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. He makes a move toward me, and I pull backthe slide part of the gun, then release it. At the same time, the stranger turns and jerks his arm toward Nash.

Then I hear Nash cry out. I’m no longer trembling with fear. Something snaps inside of me, and I pull the trigger.

Once, twice, three times.

I watch the stranger, the asshole, fall to the ground with a thud. Then, as if I’m running on instinct only, I rush toward Nash. He doesn’t say anything. He’s slumped slightly, with blood trickling down his T-shirt at the side.

The adrenaline that flows through me enough to steady my hand so I was able to shoot the stranger in front of me dissipates as tears begin to stream down my cheeks and my entire body begins to tremble again.

NASH

A beeping soundis what startles me first, then the smell hits me, and I inhale a deep breath through my nose as I open my eyes. I’m in a hospital. Not just in a hospital, but in a fucking hospital bed.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice calls out.

Turning my head, I look over to see Shawn sitting on the sofa across the room from me. She smiles as she rises to her feet and makes her way over to me. Frowning, I shift my gaze around the room, wondering where James is.

Shawn sinks down on a chair beside my bed, clearing her throat as she reaches out and wraps her fingers around mine. She squeezes me gently, then leans forward slightly. Her eyes are on mine, her smile still in place, and then she speaks.

“James is safe. You’re okay. You had to be stitched up. We had to do some fast talking when we brought you here, but she couldn’t come in covered in blood like that.”

“Tell me what happened,” I demand, although it sounds like a weak-as-fuck demand considering my voice is all fucked up and scratchy.

Shawn stands, her hand falling from mine. I watch as she turns her back to me and walks over to the window. She opens the blinds, letting the sunlight in. Slowly, she turns around to face me, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches me for a moment.

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