Page 43 of Filthy Secret

ATOMIC

The sun shines into the room what feels like just moments after I’ve closed my eyes. Truth is, it’s probably only been a couple of hours since we fell asleep. After I fucked her so hard that I probably bruised several more places on her body, I fucked her soft and sweet before we both passed out.

Sitting up, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. What a goddamn night. After my meeting with Nash and King, a strip club now being part of the club endeavors, we drank a little too much, then Vixen gave me a knowing smile, and I knew I had to come home.

I had to have a prospect drive me home because I couldn’t fucking get on my bike. I didn’t realize I was as drunk as I was. I can usually hold my shit, but I don’t typically drive when I’ve had a bunch of Crown and no food.

Food.

Cursing, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand. I never bought food. I went through all the trouble to write a goddamn list but never made it to the fucking store. I grab my phone from the floor, my feet shuffling across the floor as I make my way to the bathroom.

I start the shower and let the steam fill the room, then step into the hot shower, the water burning my skin as I let it beat down against me. I need to not be hungover today. I have a lot of shit to do and not very much time to do it, including a meeting with Nash to finalize everything.

It’s a fuck of a lot, and that doesn’t include the absolute shit show that is the pimp and Ryan’s sister, both of whom have fucking vanished. Nobody can find them, and I’ve had people looking. I wanted to make sure we were home and both Ryan and Adam were safe.

Now that they are, I can focus on that, but now that I can give the pimp and Ellen all my attention, I have the club pulling me in about four different directions. Fucking hell, and now I have a goddamn family of sorts.

Finishing my shower, I grab a towel and dry off, wrapping it around my waist before I head back into the bedroom to get dressed. Ryan is still asleep in bed as I dress and then leave the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

I shouldn’t be surprised when I find Adam sitting in the living room playing with some cars, the low hum of cartoons playing on the television. I don’t ask him how he figured out how to turn the damn thing on. That’s just what kids fucking do these days, I think.

I’m a little surprised, though, only because when I was that age, I remember sleeping as long as I possibly could. Hell, I’m still that way.

“Morning,” I rumble as I move toward the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Adam replies, his voice soft, almost too soft.

The way he says that single word causes me to pause. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at him. His back is to me, and his shoulders are slumped. Once the coffee has started percolating, I make my way toward him and sink down on the cushion of the sofa behind him.

“Adam,” I call out gently. He turns his head, his little haunted eyes find mine, and I press my lips into a straight line. “What’s wrong?” I prod.

He turns to face me fully, his big eyes focused on mine, and then he speaks. “You didn’t come back.”

Those four words cut me deeply. So fucking deeply. And I didn’t even know it was possible to be sliced that way by a five-year-old. But that’s exactly what he does.

“Did you think I wasn’t?” I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder. “I dunno.”

“I just had some work stuff to do. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Aunt Ellen came by. I was scared,” he whispers.

Anger flows through me instantly at the mention of Ellen’s name. I want to march back into the bedroom and demand to know what the fuck happened, but I decide against it. I need a moment to breathe, to calm down. I need a moment in fucking general.

But as soon as I calm the fuck down, I’m going to ask some damn questions, and I expect answers.

In fact, I will have them.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

RYAN

Something feels heavy in my chest as I shower and get ready for the day. I don’t know if it’s a sense of impending doom or what, but I’m having a hard time breathing. I’m not sure why. My body is sore everywhere, but that’s not what this is. It’s inside of me, almost like something has filled my lungs, so I can’t inhale deeply.

Once I have some clothes on, I make my way into the living room. It’s empty, but when I take a few more steps forward, my lips curve up into a smile at the sight that greets me at the small kitchen table.