Filthiest Of Them All (Dirty Temptation #3)
Chapter 1
Tatum
Silence.
For some it can be daunting and drive you mad but for others, there is solace to be found, you can revel in it.
Fear.
It can have you looking over your shoulder and making you see things in the shadows that aren’t there.
Caged.
That’s the feeling that consumes you, makes you feel trapped with no escape and has your fight or flight instincts kicking in.
For the past six months I have been living in silence, keeping everyone at arm's length and never allowing them close enough to see through the mask I wear. Every corner I turn fear grips me, thinking he’s waiting in the shadows to finally make his move. I’m living like a caged animal. I’ve tried to regain control of my life and live normally but I fail daily. I change my plans at the last minute, never sticking to the same schedule, wanting to keep them on their toes if they are tracking me.
I still work for Vivian Tempest or should I say Ezy A. I expected to be fired after she learned my true age and my brother rescued me, leaving her behind to face the wrath of the previous Lord of the Saints—better known as my sperm donor—Thomas Valerian. A month after I escaped, her husband reached out and offered me my old job back. Given I was living on ramen and sleeping in a car with my brother, I didn’t have any choice. I haven’t seen my brother in person since I accepted the offer. I limit my calls and texts with him and always change phones. I never call him on my personal cell, only on the burners I have stocked in my suitcase.
I don’t even have a home, I live out of hotels, always traveling to oversee the builds of the new hotels and running Lividica when I return to Hollow Hills. That place still gives me the creeps, I hate going back there. My skin crawls and I always feel like I’m being watched. It’s the waiting that is killing me. I know I’m not free of the Denver Kings and that they will come for me. It’s the fact I have no idea what they look like or who they are that worries me the most.
Alexander ‘The Butcher’ Denver. His name alone has people pissing themselves in fear and hiding out of worry he will suddenly appear like the fucking boogeyman.
I grew up in foster homes where men thought they could take from me. I have looked the devil in the eyes and survived. Alexander doesn’t scare me but the unknown does. The phone ringing pulls me out of my thoughts. I sit forward in my chair and push the stack of papers scattered around my desk to try and locate my cell. When I find it I see it’s an unknown number. A pit forms in my gut and I know it's irrational to worry over a strange number but every day I always think ‘is today the day he makes his move’?
I answer the call and place it on speaker as I finish typing out my email. “Hello?”
“Miss Lawson.” The husky voice reverberates through my office. I still have my hands hovering above my keyboard.
I can feel it, this is him.
“Who is this?” I keep my tone calm and my breathing even, not giving away how terrified I am.
“Introductions aren’t necessary. You know who this is.” I suck in a sharp inhale, my eyes dart around the room as if waiting for him to jump out of a dark corner and finally kill me.
“What do you want?” The tremble in my voice pisses me off, I’m trying to appear unaffected but failing.
“I’ve given you space and kept my distance, not using you as bait to lure out that piece of shit. I expect the same courtesy in return.” His voice is raspy and sends a shiver down my spine, how a voice can do that is beyond my knowledge but just the sound alone, I could listen to it for days on end and never tire of hearing it.
“I haven’t done anything and I don't know what you’re talking about,” I fire back, grateful that my outrage is beginning to spur me to life. I focus on that instead of the reaction I’m having to his voice.
“Don’t play stupid, it’s not a good look on you, Tatum.” Hearing him say my name has my flight instinct kicking in. I slam the lid of my laptop and begin gathering everything I need and shoving it in my bag.
“You don’t know what looks good on me, Butcher,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“The mismatched teal bra and black lace thong wouldn’t have been something I chose for you.” I freeze, my jaw unhinges as I stare down at the phone while terror roars to life inside me. “How’s that for not knowing what looks good on you?” I swallow a couple of times trying to regain my composure. He’s here. How do I know? Because I’m wearing the teal bra and black thong right fucking now.
“You stay the fuck away from me. I’m not like the girls you’re used to dealing with. Unlike those hussies, I fight back and my bark matches my bite, asshole.”
“Stop looking into me and the Denver Kings and we won’t have an issue. Keep digging and next time we’ll be having this conversation face to face.” He ends the call but his warning hangs heavy in the air. My breathing is rapid and my heart is working double time to try and keep up with the panic flaring inside me. I debate my options—which aren’t many. All I can do is get out of here, grab my shit from the hotel and get on the next plane to head to Miami.
No!
If he is watching then I need to switch it up. I’ll head to Chicago. It may raise questions with Vivian since the construction on that one is taking longer than my grandmother to orgasm. It’s bullshit the amount of permits you need there just to open a hotel with a sex club. Lividica is in high demand and I have numerous people reaching out to me to get them in contact with Vivian so they can buy the clubs. She of course shoots down every offer, she’ll never sell Lividica, that place is her baby.
I tear out of there without so much as a goodbye to anyone. My driver is out front waiting. When he sees me running toward him, he drops his cigarette and then climbs inside the vehicle, clearly surprised to see me so early—normally I am the last one here.
“Where to, Miss?”
“My hotel, wait for me out front. I'm grabbing my things then we’re heading straight for the airport,” I say breathlessly. He doesn’t comment which I’m grateful for. I make it a rule now to never befriend any of my drivers because for all I know they could be a plant from The Butcher. I can’t stop looking out the back window and all around to make sure we aren’t being followed.
The second we pull up in front of the hotel I’m jumping out of the car before it comes to a complete stop. I dash through the lobby like my ass is on fire, then push the button for the elevator so many times. Rationally I know pushing it repeatedly won’t get it here faster, but I’m not in my right frame of mind and I can’t be held accountable for that considering my phone call with the fucking Butcher!
The second the doors open, I don’t even wait for the people to exit, I barge through them and stand in the back, ignoring their sneers and outbursts at my rudeness. When the doors close, I punch the button to the eighth floor and pray it doesn’t stop.
When I get off, I run all the way to room 824. I don’t fuck around trying to fold my clothes or pack them nicely. I shove everything I own into the bags, clear out the bathroom and shove my files into my suitcase, then I hightail it the fuck out of there. The driver loads my bags while I climb in the back and pull my laptop out to book a red eye flight. The cost of the airfare is almost double my normal fee but I don’t bat an eye as I input my credit card details and pay for the fucking thing. Eight months ago I barely had two pennies to rub together, but thanks to a fake ID and Vivian trusting me to run her club, I now have financial freedom. She pays me more than I could have dreamed of or even hoped for, so I bust my ass every day to make sure these builds, the clubs, the girls and guys as well as the contractors are all doing their jobs and not taking advantage of her.
Even after learning the truth about my age, she didn’t fire me. I expected to be thrown out on the street and told to never step foot back on the premises, but I wasn’t. We were thrown into a fucked up situation and fought for our lives. I still feel guilty for leaving her behind when my brother showed up and saved me..
“Ma’am.” I jerk my head up from my laptop and meet my driver’s gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” The sincerity in which he asks me makes me suddenly feel bad that I have been so cold toward him.
“Yes, thank you, I’m fine. I just really need to get on that flight.” He nods but doesn’t reply. I open my browser and begin looking up Alexander Denver. His case was public and so was his trial but there isn’t a single fucking photo of him—how is that even possible? Given the fact my boss was the head of a secret society, and knowing that she had people in high places doing things for her, has me believing Alexander may have someone of his own taking down any images of him. Why would he do that though?
What is he hiding from?
Or, is it a who not a what?
Everyone knows he is the leader of the Denver Kings. Everyone has speculated what they are but no one knows for sure. Some say they are an MC club, mafia, street gang and so much other shit, but no one actually knows for sure what the Denver Kings are. It must be a full time job keeping all the information about a gang and serial killer off the web.
That’s it!
I need to find who is scrubbing the evidence from the public. Maybe if I find that person then I can… what the fuck am I going to do?
Kill him?
Threaten him?
Maybe the answer is a lot simpler than that. I just don’t want to go down that road, because if I do, I probably won’t like the answers. This nagging voice in the back of my head is telling me that I need to woman up and stop avoiding it. Given the phone call from the man himself, I know I can’t bury my head in the sand any longer. I need to know the truth, so I type her name in the search bar.
Elenor Denver.
* * *
I stumble my way through security and barely register the voices of the people around me as I walk toward my gate. My mind is a jumbled mess, I avoided looking up Elenor for months, wanting to believe my brother and not trust what Vivian said about him. The evidence online is damning to say the least. Nexus was never named or anything and it has been labeled as a cold case. The killer was never found. There was one image, an image that had my blood running ice cold. It was a picture of a man with his back to the camera on his knees clutching the lifeless body of Elenor. Her face was blurred but you could see from the way he held her that she was his everything and I have no doubt in my mind that the man in the image was Alexander.
The report said she was drugged, raped and then strangled to death. She was only sixteen, the girl had her whole life ahead of her. She would have been the same age as Nexus now, twenty. I’m only two years older than her when she was killed. I may not have much or anything to show for my life, but I still don’t want to die and I can only imagine that she was feeling the same thing as her last breath was robbed from her.
I shiver, still feeling the chill in my bones as I hand the lady my ticket, then make my way onto the plane. I sigh in relief when I notice it isn’t a full flight. I wish it was a direct flight but we have to stop over in Colorado before flying into Chicago. I’ll be sad to leave Texas but I’ll be back soon enough, I always am. Most of the hotels are near to opening except for Chicago. Vivian is trying to set up another one in Colorado but she is still trying to find the right location there. It would make my life easier if she would just finish building the fucking ones she has now before planning more.
I look for my seat toward the back of the plane, which is empty. When I find it I want to pout at the sight of a guy with a baseball cap and sweater on with the hood pulled up covering his face, sitting by the window. I decide to suck it up and wait till we take off then ask one of the hostesses if I can move to an empty row. I stow my bag in the overhead compartment, then step in to take the end seat until a man clears his throat. I twist and look back.
My mouth parts on a silent gasp, I know him!
I wrack my brain for a moment wondering where I have seen him before. He shoots me an impatient look so I grit my teeth and claim the middle seat. When he squeezes his large frame into the chair beside me, squashing me between him and the stranger beside me, I have no choice but to suck it up and wait for takeoff. I hate getting the middle seat! I decide to remain silent and close my eyes and just wait, it won’t be long before we are in the air and I can switch seats.
“I warned you what would happen if you kept looking into the Denver Kings, Miss Lawson.” My eyes snap open and I turn my head to the side to face the asshole. It hits me all at once why he looks so familiar. He was the guy that came to Lividica and spoke to Vivian–the Aztec god.
“Alexander,” I breathe out as fear begins to spread its tendrils throughout my body. When I see three other people wearing baseball caps and hoods I start to panic. One claims a seat in front of us, one sits behind us and the last one sits in the row opposite Alexander. I peer to my other side to see the guy has pushed his hood back and is looking directly at me.
This was a set up.