Page 82 of Filthy Secret

Whatever you think.

He’s doing more for me than anyone ever has, although I don’t know why I’m surprised because he always has. Even when I was eighteen and we were just beginning, this man always took care of me.

I know that, without a doubt, I would have ended up just like my sister if I hadn’t had him in my life when I did. I should thank him for that. I decide that I need to. When we have this conversation about money, I’m going to do just that.

I’ve been living in survival mode for so long. It’s time for me to take some time and make some moves in a positive direction, not out of necessity but instead out of self-love. And I know it seems selfish, but how can I love anyone if I don’t love myself? I’ve been so busy taking care of Adam and Ellen’s needs that I have never focused on just me.

Even when I ran away, it was for Ellen, not myself.

ATOMIC

Looking from side to side, I stand in front of the building. Nash is at my side, chuckling as he rocks back on his heels. I don’t even look at the old pervert. Instead, I almost laugh, but this isn’t that funny because it’s a fuckton of money gone.

Burned to a goddamn crisp.

“What the fuck?” I ask.

“Firemen say it’s arson.”

I hum, rocking back on my heels this time. We stare at the burned building in silence.

“I’m not sure how I should feel about this,” I admit. “I don’t like losing money, but I also know that it was insured. What I don’t like is the fact that it was arson. That’s a direct attack on our club, no matter what structure was taken out.”

“It is,” Nash grunts. “But I don’t think it was an MC club. I think it was another strip club. We’ve gotten a few threatening letters and shit in the mail. I ignored them because, let’s face it, I’ve had real threats before, and some titty bar owners are not fucking scary.”

“Except now they’ve burned down the building a week before opening night.”

“What are your plans now?” I ask.

“Rebuild,” Nash murmurs.

Turning my head to the side, I stare at his profile. He doesn’t move, focusing on the charred mess in front of us. Then he takes a step backward and looks over at me. He jerks his chin upward, looking down his nose at me.

“You fix your shit with your woman?” he asks.

“Not your fuckin’ business,” I grind out.

Nash lifts his hand and places his fingers on my shoulder, curling them and giving me a gentle squeeze before he shakes me. I know he’s going to go all fatherly advice on me, and right now, I think I welcome it. I don’t have a father any longer, and any advice in this situation would not go amiss.

“Yeah, but the club is my business, and I know you’re struggling. She’s a good woman. What’s the deal?”

I want to shake him. He knows the fucking deal. He’s known us, Ryan and me, since our beginning. He knows that she ran, he knows that she kept my kid from me, and he knows that she lies. She’s lied. She continues to fucking lie. I can’t trust her ass, no matter how badly I want to fuck said ass… pussy, and mouth.

“She lied. She signed a contract for that fucking pimp. She came to me pretending that her sister had promised her to him, that she had nothing to do with it. And then he showed me a fucking contract. After I killed him, I took the papers to her, and she didn’t deny them. How can I trust her?”

Nash’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t reply. He nods his head once, taking a step forward, then another. He pauses as he lifts his hand, sliding his fingers through his hair before he curls them around the back of his neck.

“Did she lie to you to deceive you?” he asks.

“More like self-preservation, but it doesn’t matter. I cannot trust her. She had plenty of chances to tell me the fucking truth.”

He dips his chin, clearing his throat before he turns his back to his charred building and looks me dead in the fucking eyes. I don’t know what I see behind his gaze, but there is a lot there. I’m unsure if he allows me to see it or if I can decipher his expression, but I see a lot of regret swimming behind his eyes.

“Fucked up a lot in my life, Grover. Fucked up with my kid, left him with a woman who he did not need to be left with. Abandoned him and pretended he didn’t exist for my own fucking sanity. It was wrong,” he says.

I nod once. I know what he’s saying. The past is a bitch, and Nash went fucking through it. But he wasn’t the only one, and at the time, it was what he needed. There was no fucking way he was going to be able to take care of King.

“You made it right,” I point out.