Page 90 of Filthy Devil

I could fucking kill her.Although, if I kill her, then I can’t punish her. So that wouldn’t work. And even though I’m pissed as fuck, I still love her, another reason why I wouldn’t want to kill her.

But Gil.

Gil, I can kill—and I would do so happily, too.

Riding my bike toward the hotel where he said they were staying, my breathing becomes labored, and my heart slams against my chest. My chest fucking hurts, and I wonder offhandedly if I’m going to have a heart attack. But then my side begins to ache, and I forget all about my chest.

The hotel comes into view, and I pull my bike up to the front. A man rushes toward me as soon as I throw my leg over my machine. He crowds me. Tipping my chin down slightly, I look into his eyes.

“Keys?” he asks, extending his palm.

Flicking my gaze to his hand, I slowly lift it to meet his eyes and shake my head once. “No,” I state. “Absolutely fucking not,” I clarify.

“For valet,” he murmurs.

“Don’t give a fuck what it’s for. You can’t have my fuckin’ keys.”

Without another word, I walk past him and head straight for the elevator banks. The valet calls out for me, but I ignore the fuck out of him because I have somewhere more important to be rather than standing around outside of a hotel bitching about valet.

The elevator doors ding, then slide open, and I step inside, placing one foot in front of the other, trying to breathe. I’m so fucking pissed off, so ready for this shit to be done. I’m not sure what I’m going to walk into, but I’m sick to fucking death of the Southern Mafia. I’m sick of the wars, of it all.

Maybe it’s my age. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been dealing with these fucks for too many decades to count. Maybe it’s because I’ve finally found a woman who I want to share my life with, and she won’t fucking stay put.

When the elevator doors open, I move forward into what I assumed would be a hallway. But instead, I’m met with a door. Just one. There is nothing else here. So this is what it is to stay in the penthouse. It must be a sweet deal.

Lifting my hand, I ball my fingers into a fist and pound on the door twice. Straining, I try to hear something on the other side of the door, but there is nothing. It’s completely fucking silent.

Frowning, I take a step back and wonder if I’m in the right place or maybe I need to figure out my own way inside.

The door flies open, and I’m met with Gil. He’s still in a suit, his eyes are narrowed, and he grunts, taking a step backward. Once I’m inside the room, I see her sitting on the sofa. James lifts her head, her eyes find mine, and I can’t help but notice the way she flinches at the sight of me.

“Now,” Gil calls out, “before you lose your shit, I didn’t take her. I just happened to find James walking around in the dark.”

“Just happened to find her?” I ask, shifting my attention from him to James.

I could fucking strangle her right now—especially while I was fucking her. I’m pissed off, but seeing how nervous she seems, unsure, and completely uneasy makes me pause, for a moment at least.

“James?” I ask. “He just happened to find you?”

Her tongue peeks out, sliding across her bottom lip before she dips her chin in a single nod. I watch as she slowly stands on trembling legs. She looks terrified, though I’m not sure why she’d be scared of me even though I’m seconds away from throttling her in more ways than one.

James slowly approaches me, standing just a few feet away before she speaks. “I got scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I knew it would be easier if I was out of the equation. Your family, your grandkids, that’s who matters. Not me.”

“Bullshit,” I snap.

Her eyes widen, her lips part, and she clears her throat. She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t let her because I don’t want to hear another goddamn word of her bullshit. I’m done. And if she’s going to walk away after this, I won’t be chasing her—at least that’s what I tell myself.

The reality is that I’ll probably always chase James Bishop.

“I fucking told you that I got you, James. You don’t fuckin’ trust me. You’re so goddamn scared of everything,” I hiss. “When I tell you that I got this, I fuckin’ got this.”

Instead of waiting for her to respond, I shift my attention to Gil. He’s watching us but standing far enough away that he likely didn’t hear me.

“Finalize the deal,” I demand.

“What about the rest of your club?” he asks.

This is a man who understands the importance of a chain of command, and I can appreciate that. But I don’t give a fuck right now. My woman needs this deal done, and I’m going to give her what she needs.

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