Page 103 of Filthy Few

“That’s because you’re fucking thick. Your mother is no longer in my possession.” My mouth parts on a gasp. “Oh, you didn’t know?” he taunts. “You have a guard with you in case you get the bright idea to run. Your mother was the easy choice to keep you in line, but now she is gone I needed to make other arrangements.”

“Why are you doing this? I thought you cared about my mom.”

He scoffs and waves his hand. “She was a good fuck but nothing more.”

‘Don’t speak about my mom like that!” I snap.

“Watch your fucking tone, bitch.” I take some deep breaths to try squash the mounting anger inside me. “Do you know where my son is?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Who are the cunts that took him?”

“TheFilthy Few,” I answer without missing a beat. Just saying their name has courage spurring to life inside me, almost like their name alone could inspire fear in my enemy.

“Who are they?” he growls.

“A favor asked is a debt owed.” Thomas’ eyes narrow to slits.

“What?”

“They grant a person a favor but a debt is always acquired.”

“What was your favor?”

“What makes you think I had one?” I toss back at him.

“We saw you with them and so did my son.”

“My favor wasn’t granted.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re still alive.” The words spew out of me before I could stop them. Thomas stands slowly and I know without an ounce of a doubt that I’m going to be in a world of pain if I don’t fix this fast. “They wouldn’t grant the favor because they know you are the lord of the Saints.”

“What do those fucks know about the Haven Saints?”

“Only that the members are untouchable,” I lie.

“Yet, they have taken my son.”

“He asked a favor of them the night we met with them.”

“What was his favor?” he snarls as he places his hands flat on the desk and leans forward.

“He asked them for all the evidence they had of his crime.”

“Did he get it?”

“Get what?” I rasp out.

“The fucking proof, you stupid cunt!” he roars, I flinch back a step, only to gasp when I smack into something. I turn and realize it wasn’t a something, it was asomeone. My guard stands there with a sinister look in his eyes. “Answer me!” he bellows. I shriek in fright and quickly turn to face Thomas.

“I don’t know,” I quickly answer.

“Something isn’t adding up here and I can’t wait any longer. My plan is now moving forward. Take her to her room and have her ready, she gives you any problems. beat her,” Thomas orders his man who grabs my arm in a bruising hold and drags me out of the room. Once inside my room, I’m instructed to shower and dress in the gown hanging on the back of my closet door. I don’t even check out the gown before rushing to my bathroom, I havean hour to be ready and look my best before the beating begins so I waste no time.

It doesn’t escape my notice that my guard has chosen to remain stationed inside my room, having to pass him in my robe as I enter my closet after my shower while he leers at me. The guy is a fucking creep but I keep quiet and do as I’m told. The silk dress is a dark ruby red, it reminds of the color of blood. The plunging neckline will leave nothing to the imagination, the back is cut lower and stops just above my ass. There’s a slit in the front that runs from the top of my thigh to my ankle. One wrong move in this thing and everyone will see Vox’s playground peeking out and that doesn’t sound like a good time.

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