The Filthy Series: The Complete Dark Erotic Serial Novel (57 page)

“I’ve been waiting to come here for a long time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means it’s taken years for me to get the access I wanted. To be able to come here and see you.”

“You could have just come to visiting hours like Faye did.” I wanted to rub it in his face that she came to see me. It may have been twenty years ago, but she had. She’d come to me with all her beauty and her brilliance. She had made something of herself, my Faye baby. She had become someone
without
me. It crushed me, destroyed me.

He gritted his teeth together and pressed his hand harder against my chest. “What I want couldn’t happen during visiting hours,
dad
.”

A chuckle escaped my lips. It didn’t sound as bitter as it felt coming up my chest.

“What are you laughing at?” Rhett’s face reddened.

“Maybe you’re more like me after all. Come here to fuck me up? Beat me senseless?” Rhett narrowed his eyes. More laughter came, shaking my belly. “Well, by all means, beat me up, Rhett. An old man. That’s what I am. You came all the way up here in the middle of the night to beat an old man!”

“I came up here to tell you all the things I was never able to tell you.”

“Oh, good. I can’t wait to hear about your pathetic life.” Rhett had always been worthless in my eyes. Too soft. Too easy. Then when he became a lawyer he was too tight-laced about right and wrong. He was too black and white about the world. I didn’t like it. I knew better than anyone about all the things that lurked in the gray.

“She married me. Your
Faye baby.
” He spit the words at me.

“You’re lying.” An ache bloomed in my chest. I tried not to think about the last thing she said to me when I saw her.

“I’m in love with Rhett, Taylor. And this will be the last time you ever see me.”
Her words echoed in my head. I had gotten good at pretending that hadn’t really happened. I’d gotten good at pretending she didn’t mean them.

“No. I’m not lying. She loves me. She’s always loved me.”

“No. Stop. Shut—”

“She never really loved you. You forced her hand when she didn’t know any better.” Rhett voice shook on the end.

“That’s not—”

“It IS true!” Rhett shouted. “She
never
wanted you. She was a little girl! You were supposed to be her father. You were supposed to love her like a father. Not the fucked up way you did.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head and looked up at the ceiling. I didn’t have to listen to Rhett. I didn’t have to hear his words.

“Are you fucking kidding me? It more than matters.”

Another chuckle bubbled on my lips.

“Why the hell are you laughing?”

Images of Faye flitted through my mind. “Because it doesn’t matter if you’re with her now. I’ll always be her first. She will always have loved me first.” I looked into his eyes. The eyes of my only son. “It doesn’t matter that you think I took her love, son. Whether I took it or not, it was still mine and it will
always
be
mine.
”

Pain ripped through me, utter body-convulsing pain. For a moment I thought my heart had ripped in two, but glancing down revealed that it hadn’t, a knife had been stabbed into it. It protruded from my chest with Rhett’s hand wrapped around the hilt. Blood. Red blood. It seeped from around the blade staining my orange jumpsuit, making it look black.

“Rhett.” His name was a whisper on my lips. My son. The man who married my Faye baby. The man who sent me away to prison. I knew even before he pulled the knife out of my chest and plunged it into me again that he would also be my killer. My murderer.

I was going to die at the hand of my own son. We weren’t so different after all. Who would come to my funeral? There wasn’t anyone left. My mother had died years ago and she was it, not other family besides Rhett.

Faye came to my mind as the pain exploded inside me, seeming to consume every nerve ending. Scenes, moments of our time together flashed through my mind in time to the sickening thud of the knife being pushed into my chest over and over.

“My Faye baby.”

“She was never yours. Never.”

“She’ll know it was y-you.” The words were a whisper from my lips. It didn’t matter that Faye hated me, that she thought she loved Rhett. She would always love me. Always. And she would never condone my murder. Never.

“No. She won’t. That’s why it’s taken me so long…” But Rhett’s voice was far away and I was falling, falling away from the light, from Faye. I couldn’t see her anymore.

I couldn’t see anything.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The last year of my life has been dedicated to writing The Filthy Series and what a hell of a year it’s been. There are so many people who made this series possible.

YOU. Yes, I’m going to thank you first. Thank you for taking the time to read the books. Thank you for being patient. Thank you for loving all of the fucked of things about Faye, Rhett, and Taylor that I love. Just, thank you. YOU are amazing.

Jade Eby. My writing soul mate. Without your critiques and support I would still be re-writing book one!

Maranda Jeter. There’s a reason you’re my bestie. You listen and listen and listen. Thanks for being amazing.

Najla Qamber. You nailed it with these Filthy covers. I love them so much. You are amazing and I can’t wait to work with you more!

Jackie Sheats. I can’t even begin to express my love for the headers you created for the series. I almost wanna tattoo it on my arm so I love it forever! Love ya girl!

Special thanks to Melissa and Eda for being my awesome beta readers for FILTHY 6. I would not have been able to press publish without y’all.

And last (but for fucking certain not least) my FILTHY whores. Yes, ladies! I’m talking about y’all! I love reading all your discussions in the Facebook group. You all seriously rock my world. Love love love you guys!