Meanwhile, my eyes widen and I’m caught in complete disbelief. Preston just full out admitted he had his eye on me . . . for years at that! Holy crap.
“Bongo, would you mind?” I ask my newfound friend here, and with a chuckle he pours me another shot which I take back in no time. The burn of the tequila down my throat is in no way a comparison to the way Preston’s eyes are burning through mine right now.
We’ve both admitted in the last five minutes we’ve had some sort of attraction to one another in the past, and now here we are . . . on Valentine’s Day in his MC’s clubhouse.
I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. I came here because it was some place safe, because going back to the apartment would only mean Cameron grilling me about what happened . . . but now I’ve opened up an entirely different can of worms.
Chapter Eight
Filthy
Bongo ends up disappearing as soon as he can and walks off to where Kodiak’s sitting in the back, surrounded by Cut and Leather. A few minutes of silence pass us by before Scarlett ends up sucking in a deep breath and exhales loudly. Finally, she turns toward me on the barstool and looks right in my eyes. “You want me to tell you what happened, don’t you?”
“I want you to, yeah, but I’m not gonna sit here and make you. I got a pretty good idea about what happened, given the luggage in your car, and the swelling.” Scarlett’s holding the ice against her face and finally takes it off, sets it on the counter, and shakes her head.
“You’re not gonna end up asking me what happened and expect me to say something?” She looks like she’s caught in disbelief. I’m sure she’s thinking how I’m completely different than my sister. Cam’s the first person who will lay down in a fight for you, but man, she’s a drill sergeant most of the time. She wouldn’t ever not let Scarlett talk about what happened, she’d want to know right then and there, so being here with me is probably a breath of fresh air for her.
“Thanks, for not hammering me about it,” she murmurs quietly, and looks down at the top of the bar.
Out of nowhere the urge to touch her takes over me, so I give her an encouraging squeeze and rub my thumb over the top of her hand. “I’m not here to make things worse for you. If you ask me, your day’s been bad enough.”
“Damn straight about that. I’ve had some pretty foul Valentine’s Days in my past, but this by far has to be the worst one of them all.” Hearing her admit this to me makes me sick to my stomach. Why is a woman like her in a situation like this? I don’t get it, but then again, I don’t understand most shit that happens in this world. That’s saying a lot considering I’m a lawyer. The amount of dumb shit I know people are allegedly doing is almost mind-boggling.
“The day’s not over yet, so how about you take a deep breath and come out with me?” It feels like the right thing to do, to get her out of this club and let her breathe for a bit.
“I don’t really want to go out, Preston. Not looking like this.” Scarlett points to her bruised face and I look at her sternly before I finally speak, and while on the inside I’m imagining ways to fuck up her abusive ex, I soften my voice so she doesn’t think I’m being foul.
“Tonight, you and I are going out and I promise you, you won’t have to worry about this.” I graze my finger against her skin lightly, careful not to irritate the swollen area. While it looks better, it’s surely not that much better than when she rolled up here to the club not too long ago.
“Preston,” Scarlett’s muttering my name like she’s trying to talk me out of this but I won’t take that.
“No. You’re not talkin’ me out of this. We’re going out later, and no one will have to see your face. It’ll just be you, me, and the open road. I’m takin’ you for a ride, but I want the alcohol out of my system. I know I only had a couple shots but fuck if I’m gonna be on the road right now. Let’s get hydrated, maybe you can take a nap and see if that’ll make things better?”
Surprisingly enough, Scar’ nods. “You know, that isn’t a bad idea.”
“Alright. I have a room here at the club, it’s upstairs, down the hall on the left, and it’s the third room on the right. My code to enter is 4246. You go head up there and I’ll come up in a couple hours. I have some work I need to get done around here,” I say, but little does she know I’m lying to her. I don’t have work to do here, but there is something I need to handle.
“Okay, are you sure? I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
Looking her sternly in the eyes, I cock a brow. “If you were one, I would’ve told you, now c’mon, I’ll walk you upstairs and get you settled before I go get my stuff done.”
Scarlett ends up giving in and doesn’t put up a fight. I walk her upstairs, show her around my minimalist room, and shut the door firmly behind me. The automatic lock clicks the second it shuts and I left on the note that if she needed me she could call me, and gave her a warning to not leave my room unless I’m there with her. I don’t trust Shadow around her, then again, I don’t trust Shadow either.
As I hit the bottom of the stairs I look over to Bongo. “I need you to take me somewhere, now,” I grit, balling my fists at my sides.
Bongo smiles like the bastard he is. “Lemme guess, we gonna pay the fuck who busted her up a visit?”
“We sure are, and we’re gonna make sure he feels very badly for what he’s done,” I promise, standing behind my words one-hundred percent.
“Hell yeah.” Bongo is the class clown so to speak, but everyone here knows about the shit that’s gone down in his past. Out of everyone in the club, he’s got the most fucked up history and has seen far too much bloodshed.
The door to the clubhouse opens and Steel comes walking right in. There’s only one other person in this club who loves fucking up men who put their hands on a woman, and it’s him. “Wanna take a ride with us, brother?” I ask him, and he cocks a brow.
“What for?” Steel questions.
Bongo has no problem walking up behind him, throwing an arm around Steel’s shoulders and leads him toward the door. “Tiny-dick prick hurt the woman Filthy’s got his eye on, so we’re gonna go deal with that.”
“And we’re gonna get her shit from his place,” I correct him as we walk through the front door.
Steel stops in his tracks and turns back to look at me. “He fuckin’ around, or you really got a woman?”
“I don’t have her yet, brother, but with any luck I will.”
Dear Readers,
I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek into Scarlett and Filthy’s story. I’m co-writing this series with my husband J.H. Wolfe, and Filthy’s book will be releasing on January 21st, 2022. Their story will pick up on Valentine’s Day and we’ll be riding with the boys to Scott’s apartment in the prologue.
Go pre-order your copy here.
Buckle up and enjoy the ride.