Page 89 of Filthy Devil

This is a man who does not keep things close to the vest. He is, without a doubt, dying to say something. There is a moment of silence as he takes me in, then he lets out a heavy sigh.

“There’s nothing about my business that you need to know. Just understand that this is less about you and Nash and more about the Southern Mafia’s future.”

Well, that’s a load of horseshit, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I give him a small smile. I honestly don’t care about hisbusiness. My focus is on Nash and only Nash. I don’t even care what happens to me.

“Have a seat. I ordered some food and wine.” Chewing on my bottom lip, I nod once. “Nash will be here before the food probably,” he says with a chuckle. “He seemed really fucking interested in the fact that I had you here with me.”

Shit.

Nash is going to be so pissed.

So beyond pissed.

Walking over to the sofa, I sink down on the cushion, cursing myself for being such a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have run. I shouldn’t have freaked out. I should have gone to the bathroom and then returned to the table.

I think I might have really screwed up.

I should have trusted him.

I take a deep breath. “You look like you’re about to be sick,” Gil mutters.

“I think I might be,” I whisper.

He snorts. “You’re just now realizing that you fucked up big time?” he asks.

“Huge.”

Gil chuckles as he walks over to the refrigerator that’s in the kitchen area. I watch as he opens it, then grabs hold of a bottle of water before he turns to face me. His eyes meet mine as he twists the top off the water.

“Nash loves you. He’ll forgive you.”

Honestly, as much as I’ve tried to push him away, I’m surprised he would still love me. If he even takes me back home with him, I might actually die of shock. I’ve fucked up so big. Every single turn, I mess up more. I hate myself for it. I’m self-sabotaging, and I don’t know why.

“I don’t think he’ll forgive me,” I whisper.

Gil brings the bottle of water to his lips, taking a pull before he levels me with a gaze. “He’ll forgive you. He might be pissed at you. He might angry fuck you, but he will forgive you. If you’re worth forgiving.”

I want to laugh in his face, but I don’t. Instead, I bring my feet up to the sofa and wrap my arms around my shins. Resting my chin against the tops of my knees, I stare straight ahead. He watches me, and then his brows snap together, and an expression of concern crosses his face.

“He’ll forgive you because you’re his pretty young thing in his bed.”

His words aren’t meant to cut me, but they do. They slice me in half. I don’t want to be just his pretty young thing. I want to be his woman, his everything. Because that’s who Nashville is to me—everything.

“Nash doesn’t care if I’m twenty or sixty,” I murmur. “I betrayed him by running away, and that’s all he is going to focus on.”

Gil lets out a hearty laugh, then he clears his throat and opens his mouth to speak. But before he can get even a single word out, there is a loud, booming knock on the door. His gaze flicks to the closed door, then back to meet mine.

“Seems like we’re going to find out, but you’re wrong, James. So fucking wrong. That man is fucking thrilled to have a pretty young thing by his side. And even more so that he’s fallen in love with you. You, James, are not just an ornament. You’re his woman.”

God.

Gil’s words make me hate myself even more.

This man, who has only met Nash a couple of times, can see more about our relationship than I can. I want to curl into a ball and die right this second. I want this shit to end because I screwed up big time.

So big that I don’t think there is any way out of this.

NASH

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