Savages Boxed Set

by Gadziala, Jessica

  But then there was commotion.

  And not the good kind.

  Elana tensed as the door flew open and Trick came in wide-eyed. "Trouble," he barked at her, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a gun. A gun. I mean I knew they were gang members, but still, it was one thing to know it, it was a complete other to see evidence of it.

  "How many?"

  "Six," Trick said as he moved back out.

  Then something happened that, even if I had a lifetime to consider the possibility of, I never would have been able to come up with. My sister swung around and in a blur, she was no longer in front of me, but behind me. Her arm locked around my center. Now, we were both about the same height, but she had the slight advantage of heels, making her head several inches higher than mine. The arm that wasn't around my stomach, pressing into the spot where D had kicked me and sending a wave of pain through me that made me seriously worry I was going to throw up, went behind her for a second. When it came back, I saw the flash of silver. Then I felt something cold, round, and metal press into my temple.

  I didn't have to see it to know what it was.

  A gun.

  My sister was holding a gun to my temple.

  "El..." I heard my voice gasp and plead at the same time.

  "Shut the fuck up," she hissed, pushing me forward. "Walk," she growled when I tried to plant my feet. And, well, I was too freaked, too shocked, and too scared to do anything but what I was told. I had been able to stand my ground and argue with her because, in my mind, she was just my sister. She was my sister who was playing a really stupid real life game of cops and robbers. That was all it was. She was still the girl who used to get my hair into wicked knots when she tried to braid it when we were in elementary school. She was the one who cried her eyes out with me when we went to see Les Mis on Broadway when we were teens. She was the woman who got so tequila-drunk at my housewarming party that she started taking all her clothes off. She'd been reaching for the strap of her bra when Rome rushed up, cocooned her in my throw blanket off my couch as she bitched that she was too hot for clothes.

  She was my sister.

  I could argue with her.

  Because she would never hurt me.

  But all ideas of sisterhood and family loyalty went right the hell out the door when you suddenly found yourself at gunpoint by someone you thought you knew every nook and cranny of.

  There were yells from the main room and I felt my body go ramrod straight as I was pushed out into the commotion. Because I realized another thing: I was being held at gunpoint, but I was also being used as a human shield.

  All the action that had been going on at the tables had stopped. The people who had been working there were all cowering under the tables and I realized that, maybe, they hadn't all been gang members. Maybe they had just been like... workers.

  In front of the tables were D, Trick, and three other men I didn't recognize all yelling, all with guns raised.

  My eyes snapped toward the other side of the room and I felt two things at once: relief and bone-deep fear.

  Because there was Paine, eyes locked on D and I saw the intention there, the desire to cause some serious damage and I knew, I knew that he somehow knew what happened to me. Fanned out around him was Shooter, who had a weird little amused smirk, Breaker, who had a coldness in his eyes that made me shiver involuntarily, Sawyer who looked almost... calm, Tig, the big guy who told me to ice my neck the night I was strangled, who seemed tense but unconcerned about the gang members yelling at them and aiming guns. There was one last man, someone who had the buzzcut look and stiff stance of someone in the military. He seemed calm like Sawyer. Suddenly I wondered if maybe they had both been military, if they had seen things much worse than a warehouse with a handful of gang members and that was why they were acting like what was happening was no big deal.

  "Move," El hissed in my ear again, slamming her knee into the back of mine and making an involuntary cry escape me. At the sound, Paine's eyes flew in our direction. It wasn't easy to read him then. A muscle was ticking in his jaw which was a pretty universal sign of anger. There was a tension around his mouth that I took for anxiety. But his eyes, those light green eyes I wanted to get lost in, they looked downright horrified.

  El kept pushing me along the side wall and I knew she was trying to make it around the group of my saviors and get toward the door. To hell with her men, I guess.

  Paine pivoted with our motion, eyes following every step we took. I tried to convey a message with mine: I know this looks really bad, but I'm pretty sure she's not going to kill me.

  As we closed in on the door, Elana jerked me hard, her arm crushing into my center and almost making me double over. If she wasn't holding me so tight, I would have. Her back was to the open space and she was walking both of us backward into it.

  Until she collided into something that made me collide into her.

  Unable to see anything, I looked to Paine's face for some kind of explanation. What I found there was uncertainty and surprise. Which, well, weren't exactly good things to see given the circumstances.

  "I fucking dare you to move, bitch," a deep, smooth, threatening voice said. Whoever it was made my sister stiffen hard. Her hand holding the gun to my temple was shaking and I felt my stomach start to churn. If there was one thing you definitely didn't want, it was someone with a twitchy hand holding a gun to a part of you that would never survive a bullet wound.

  "You won't shoot," Elana said in my ear, but she didn't sound as sure as I bet she wanted to. "You and your buddies aren't smart, but you aren't that stupid either. It'd be a suicide mission to open fire in a meth lab."

  My eyes went again to the scene in front of me, everyone with guns raised, but no one who seemed all that willing to pull a trigger.

  God.

  I was an idiot.

  Of course no one would shoot.

  The reason there were task forces meant just for finding meth labs was because they were unstable. As in, they were known to blow up. All the time. Something as small as static electricity could send the already unstable materials a-blazing. Hell, meth lab explosions could decimate entire apartment complexes.

  So, yeah, no one was going to shoot a gun, which was a small explosion itself, in a meth lab.

  Everyone was at a standoff.

  Except, apparently, whoever was behind my sister.

  "Hey honey," he said, his voice still deep, but softer so I figured he was talking to me and not my sister. "Funny thing... know what is really hard to hold onto?" He asked, and I knew that whatever was to follow would be really important. "A completely limp body," he finished.

  The second the words were out of his mouth and they registered, I let my legs buckle and the entire force of my weight pulled downward, making Elana's arm lose my middle and allowing me to slide completely to the floor.

  I hit with an impact that shot into my stomach and I curled onto my side, sucking in a breath. I was vaguely aware of my sister yelping and I twisted my head over my shoulder to see her lifted off her feet and disappear out into the dark outside. But not before I got a look at the man who had saved me, who had threatened my sister, who had made Paine look both uncertain and surprised.

  There was no mistaking it. It was in the matching caramel-colored skin tone. It was in the insane, chiseled bone structure. It was in the height and width of their strong bodies. And, lastly, it was in the identical shade to their eyes.

  Enzo.

  Paine's half brother.

  The only real difference between them, other than their voices, was the fact that Enzo's face was swollen and bruised like he had taken a very recent, very brutal beating.

  It didn't really take much for me to realize that my sister was the one who had, in some way, made that happen to him.

  I turned back and Paine's eyes were on mine for a second and I saw the split feelings there: the need to come to me, and the need to handle his business.

  I waved a hand at him, hoping he t
ook it to mean 'do what you need to do, I'm fine'.

  The next second, his gun was tucked away, and he was flying, positively flying across the room toward D. Full force, his body slammed into D's, sending them both spiraling into the table behind D. Their impact landed with a slam and grunt from D as Paine pushed up, swung an arm back, and started hitting.

  I watched for all of ten seconds, seeing his fist collide with D's face at least three times in that span, making a spray of blood fly up and spatter across his shirt and face.

  That was about all I could take.

  The rest of the men seemed to reach an understanding at that point, all of them tucking their guns away and realizing that this was not their fight. Shooter and Sawyer turned back to me and both started to move in my direction.

  "I can't bend down, but I can pull you up," the deep, smooth voice of Enzo said behind me, making me visibly flinch as I rolled onto my back. He stood towering over me, one arm reaching downward, offering to help me up. Where was my sister? Had he actually taken her outside and... shot her? No. I hadn't heard a gunshot. So what... "She's gone. Told her ass to get the fuck out of Jersey 'cause if she don't, I'll find her. Come on, let's get you up, honey," he said, shaking his hand a little, encouraging me to take it. There was something about the way that he said honey that made me feel like maybe he wasn't quite so scary after all. I reached upward, forgetting about my raw hands and arms until he shrank away. "Fuck," he hissed, shaking his head.

  "We got her," Shooter said as he and Sawyer moved down at my sides. "Always loved a good damsel in distress, darlin'," he said, reaching out and booping my nose before he slid a hand under my left shoulder. Sawyer did the same with my right (minus the booping, obviously) and then I was on my feet.

  "Someone needs to stop him," I said, not bothering to look behind me, but hearing the unmistakable sounds of fighting still going on.

  "Break will stop him when D's had enough," Shoot assured me.

  "I think he's had enough."

  "Babe," Sawyer said, shaking his head. "Look at you. Your face, arms, hands, and the way you're arching to your side, I'm guessing you got bruised or busted ribs too. He hasn't had enough yet."

  I sighed, figuring I really had no say in the matter. "I'm fine. Really. A little soap and water, some triple antibiotic, and a couple ibuprofen and I'll be all better."

  Okay. I felt like crap. I felt worse than crap. My stomach and side was screaming. Shock and anger wearing away, taking with it the adrenaline that kept me from feeling the searing sensation of road burn on my arms and the sting of the cuts that were caked in dirt and who-knew what else, it was really taking all that I had in me to not just fall into a puddle of tears on the floor. But I couldn't do that. Call it pride, but I had seven big, strong, fearless, badass men around me and I didn't want to fall into waterworks over a few boo-boos.

  "Babe," Sawyer said, shaking his head like I was an idiot.

  "She needs the hospital," Tig said, walking up. He reached out slowly, touching me under the chin to angle my head up. "I'd like to see you not-bruised sometime."

  "That'd be nice," I agreed with a wry smile.

  "I said enough!" Breaker's voice roared and all eyes turned to see Breaker wrangling a furious, rabid Paine off of a bloodied, mangled version of D. For a second, I was worried he'd beaten him to death, until I saw the telltale rise and fall of the unconscious man's chest and felt like I could finally take a breath of my own.

  "Paine," I heard myself say. It wasn't loud, barely more than a whisper, but Paine's head snapped up toward me and all the tension drained from his body. Breaker, seeing he was no longer needed, released Paine who looked down at his hands almost... helplessly, like he couldn't believe what he had just done. There was a lot of blood. On his hands, his arms, his shirt, his face. I was fairly certain that not a drop of it was his.

  "Get him cleaned up," Enzo called to, I assumed, Breaker. "We'll get her to the car." Trick and the remaining Third Street guys looked at Enzo who shook his head at them. "You're all fucking dead to me, traitors. Handle your own shit; see how long you last." With that, he turned out the door and disappeared.

  When I turned back to Sawyer and Shoot, they both opened their arms. At my drawn-together brows, Shoot smiled disarmingly. "Pick one."

  "Pick one for what?"

  "To carry you, peaches, of course," he said and I felt myself smiling a little.

  I looked between them, both having matching masks of masculine certainty that I was, for sure, going to pick them. It was almost as if they might have had some kind of bet on the outcome. I turned to Tig instead. "If you have an arm, I still have two legs," I said and he gave me a soft smile, putting an arm around my hips, low to avoid contact with any sore spots. I leaned into his side slightly and started walking, each step a tiny stab to my side and center and by the time we got into sight of the cars, I could feel the tears stinging at my eyes, begging to be released.

  "Come on, honey," Enzo said, holding one of the car doors open. If I wasn't mistaken, I would put money on it being Shooter's car.

  "No. I'm waiting for Paine,"I objected, moving out of Tig's hold and wobbling over to lean against Paine's Challenger.

  "The sooner we get you..." Sawyer started, but I cut him off.

  "No. I can wait five more minutes."

  "Babe..."

  "Alright darlin'," Shoot said, moving to lean on the car beside me, looking off in the direction of the warehouse. "If there's anything I know about women, and I know a lot," he said with a devilish little smirk followed by what would normally be an absurd wink, but on Shoot it was charming and sexy. Oh, yeah, I bet he was quite the dog before Amelia leashed him in. "It's that there's no use arguing with you."

  "Just 'yes' us to death and then do whatever the hell you wanted in the first place?" I mused.

  "Eh, I think you've had enough kidnapping for the night. Though my trunk is rather spacious, you know."

  I smiled, shaking my head, and turning back toward the warehouse. Out of a street on the side, I could see the outline of two giant men coming out of the shadows.

  "Did he change?" I mused, meaning to only think it, but I had said it out loud.

  Paine's eyes were on mine as they crossed the street, his white shirt replaced with a black one, his hands, arms, and face wiped clean of blood.

  "Babygirl," he said as he got up close to me.

  And, well, that was all it took.

  I leaned forward, face-planting into his chest and letting out a really ugly, really pathetic-sounding sob. His arms closed around me slowly, gently, like I might break or crumble beneath his strength.

  "Shh, baby," he murmured into the hair at the side of my head. "It's alright. I got you."

  And, well, him being all sweet just made me cry harder.

  After what was what I could only imagine an embarrassing amount of time later, I finally pulled it together, sniffling hard. I pulled back and Paine wiped my cheeks for me. "Got that out for now so we can go get you looked at?" he asked, the words at once sweet and a tiny bit teasing. Which I needed to stop the seemingly endless pool of tears inside me.

  I nodded, pulling back. "Yeah."

  I turned self-consciously back toward the group, giving them a small smile. "Thanks guys for ah... getting me out of there. You especially," I said, turning to Enzo who was looking the slightest bit uncomfortable.

  "Darlin' anytime you need a knight in..." Shoot started, but was stopped when Breaker slapped him hard on the back of the neck with an eye roll.

  "Go get all stitched up, doll. We'll all see you on Sunday," Breaker said, slapping Paine on the shoulder as he and Shoot moved to take off in their respective cars.

  "Smart move with the pin, babe," Sawyer said as his men moved to their cars as well.

  "I knew he was still looking into me."

  "Good thing too," Sawyer agreed. "I'll check in with you after you're all pretty again," he said with a teasing smirk before swinging into his SUV and taking off.
>
  "Enz," Paine said, his focus still on me, like he was afraid to look away. "You and me, we're having a talk. Soon."

  "Yeah, man. I'm around."

  "Come on, babygirl, get in the car," Paine urged, leading me to the passenger and helping me inside.

  We drove to the hospital in absolute, ear-splitting silence.

  And, of course, that gave my mind plenty of time to race and wonder and worry.

  Why wasn't he talking to me?

  Why wasn't he even looking at me when we stopped at the red lights?

  Was this too much too soon for us?

  Was it over?

  Yeah, the little voice who narrated my worst fears, she was a pessimist by nature.

  So by the time we parked outside the emergency room and Paine got out of the car, walking around the hood to open the door for me, yeah, that voice had pretty much convinced me that he was going to drop me, say he was going for coffee or something like that, and never come back.

  "Elsie, come on."

  I sighed hard, steeling myself for what I thought was the inevitable outcome, and got out of the car.

  EIGHTEEN

  Paine

  "You need to fuckin' pull it together," Breaker demanded as we watched the rest of the group move out, Tig's giant tree-limb of an arm around Elsie as she hobbled out. She was hurting. She was hurting and that fact made me want to turn back around and rip mother fucking D's head clear off his shoulders.

  "Did you see her?" I demanded, fists clenching down at my sides.

  "Saw her. Saw my own woman with her face busted too so I know how you're feeling. But she doesn't need you raging out. She needs you to get your shit together, clean up, and take care of her. She ain't from this life. She's gonna be a mess when the adrenaline wears off and everything settles in, becomes real."

  You looked at Break and you saw muscle, you saw the beard, you saw the ice blue eyes. No one immediately thought upon seeing him that he was wise, but he was. He'd led a rough life, living on the streets, eking out a living with his fists, dealing with all kinds of scumbags. The streets aged men and women beyond their years.