Hard Sacrifice (Savage Saviors MC Book 4)

by J. C. Allen

  Only when I heard the door open did I pull back, staring in morbid embarrassment at the waiter.

  “Two waters, please,” Derek quickly said.

  “Right away, sir,” the waiter said, taking the opportunity to leave as quickly as Derek gave him a reason to.

  As soon as he left, I turned to him and put his hands on his cheek.

  “As much as I love this,” I said. “Let’s save it for later when we’re alone. It’ll—”

  “Aww, you sure, babe?” he said, though I’m pretty sure I picked up hints of sarcasm. “I want the world to know how much I love you.”

  “I’m sure,” I said, playfully rolling my eyes. “Come on. Tell me what it was you wanted me to know.”

  Derek beckoned me to the table and laid out the binder. I started flipping through the pages, mostly curious to see what all it contained. At first, I came across a variety of mission statements, financial reports—with numbers that staggered even me—and biographies on a variety of members, including their risk for fleeing the club.

  I wanted to ask Derek if that was because of the recent members that had fled the group or not, but I decided some questions were better left unasked.

  Then I flipped to a section called “Targets” and came across the first one “The Falcon.”

  The Falcon…

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  Derek leaned forward, as if trying to figure out what I was talking about. I had to know more.

  “Him,” I said. “The Falcon?”

  Derek nodded, sighed, and leaned back in his chair. The waiter came in, put two waters down, and asked if we were ready to order, only for Derek to ask for ten minutes. The waiter gave a half bow and again quickly exited.

  “Current intel on him is, let’s just say, difficult to come by,” he said. “If we thought Rock was hard to find, then Falcon is even more difficult to find. Half the time, I’m convinced he doesn’t even live in this state, let alone in the city. I have actually never met him before, although I certainly know all about him. Because while we don’t know much about his current whereabouts or anything like that, I know all about his past.”

  He took a second to collect himself. I found my hand moving to his to hold it, taking care to comfort him as needed.

  “About thirty years ago, Falcon wasn’t the name of our mortal enemy, wasn’t the name of the leader of a club bearing his name. He was the second in command to my father, much like Roost is to me. Though at the time he was fair, he always had an edge to him; the sort of thing that we all saw and worried was a sign of something that could erupt at any moment. Well, by we, I mean my father and his close circle of friends.

  “Anyways, shortly after I was born, Falcon started to say that my father wasn’t living up to the duties of the job. Said that having two young boys was taking away from growing the club into the economic powerhouse that it could be. At first, this was something of a healthy conversation, at least in that it was meant to make sure the two forces balanced each other out. But…”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Eventually, Falcon began pressing my father. Saying that we were constraining ourselves too much by our rules. But my father stayed strong and refused to sway. Falcon, seemingly, accepted this and said OK. At the time, it just seemed like Falcon had accepted that he had lost. But behind the scenes, he was amassing a network of followers loyal to him. And then, just a few years later, he took nearly a fourth of the existing Saviors and left off shop.

  “The thing was, after that, nothing happened. I was just old enough to start learning about the Saviors’ activities with my brother, and my father said nothing had happened. At that age, I assumed that meant all was well. But my father knew the truth. Falcon is an enormously patient man. He’s the type of criminal who can sit on his hands for a decade, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. And so, for many, many years, there seemed to be a sort of peace where the Falcon and those who had left were so underground, it was easy to believe they no longer existed.

  “And then my father retired and my brother took over and I swore off the club life. The Falcon saw an opportunity—he saw the club in transition. And so, he struck. He killed my father. He killed my mother. He killed my brother. And then he killed my wife. He probably figured that the Saviors would either crumble apart, or I would take over and we’d whither away into nothing. And honestly, it wasn’t the worst plan in the world.”

  Then he leaned forward, grabbed my head with his hands, and gently kissed my forehead.

  “But then I found you, and I found a reason to live all over again. A reason to keep the Saviors going. And now, he has no idea what he’s unlocked. He has no idea what kind of a monster I can be.”

  Then he let out a weak sigh.

  “I just wish the asshole could show himself,” he said. “Like trying to find a specific needle in a haystack of needles.”

  “You know, I don’t think he’s far from here,” I added. “When I was captive in the house, they asked if Falcon was moved. I don’t think… he would’ve had to have been in that neighborhood, right?”

  Derek bit his lip.

  “Not gonna worry about what could have been,” he said. “But that’s both good and scary to know. Good because it means if we kill him, we kill everyone. Scary because it means he’s come down to end the fight himself—and it’s not going to be pretty.”

  A moment of silence passed then. I was feeling quite tired, not of Derek’s actions, but of life making Derek and I have to fight so hard for us just to stay alive. It felt like we’d overcome so much just to be alive, let alone to be together, and now I was here to find out that we were about to have the worst threat of all?

  It was exhausting. But it was more exhausting considering not being with Derek.

  Either way, I came to the conclusion that our work was far from done.

  The waiter came by then, and Derek quickly ordered steaks for us, somehow knowing exactly what I wanted without having to ask me. I smiled at him when the waiter left and kissed him again, gently and tenderly.

  We were, after all, on a date. We had to enjoy each other first.

  And let me tell you, when we got to enjoy each other, it was going to be the kind of pleasure that people dreamed about because they never got it in real life.

  I can’t honestly remember what happened over the course of the rest of that dinner. We kept the conversation light—I joked to Derek about how it was closer who looked with more affection, him at me or Matty at his boys—but other than that, it was all a blur. My mind was racing to get back to the apartment, and as soon as the bill got paid, our limo was racing there as well.

  When we got dropped off, our erotic war had resumed, each of us trying to get away with the most subtle touch possible in public before we made our way to the elevator. Once we got to the elevator, though, I leaped into his arms. He grabbed me, and my lips drew to his own, like magnets. I was not going to move off of him until I was free.

  My hips pressed and moved in rhythm against his, even as he walked me to the bedroom. I felt his stiffness press into my hips, and each touch, each bump, each press had me all the wetter.

  He dropped me onto the bed, taking the brief moment of separation as a way to get his shirt off. I stared, forever slackjawed at his muscles—and, now, at some new scars and bruises he had. He moved to me, removing my dress, leaving me completely naked except for my underwear, which was soaked already.

  He pressed his body back into me, kissing my lips. I grabbed his head as heat simmered through my body. I let out moan as his kiss activated a flare of heat wherever he went, from my cheeks to my neck to my breasts. My legs closed around him, loosening only because I wanted him to get all the way down.

  He removed my panties and tossed them to the side. He placed my legs on his shoulders and then kissed from the inside of my thighs down to just the edge where my folds awaited, shaking and quivering with anticipation. He hadn’t even touched me yet, and already I was b
egging for him to kiss me there.

  “D-D-Derek… please!”

  “Patience,” he said with a wicked smile.

  “Fuck!”

  Then, finally rewarding me, he placed a kiss on me. I shook intensely, and it only increased as his tongue began its work on me. Heat built up like a furnace down below, and all of my muscles seemed to contract inward toward my pussy. It was going to—

  There it was! The first orgasm of the session, my first one in days. Ohhh, ohhhh, oh, how it came with such ease, how it washed over me, how it had me panting. How it had me… how it had control of me.

  I had to push Derek away for a few seconds, shoving his head away from me, just to make sure I didn’t kick him due to the intensity of the feeling.

  “God,” I said between the pants, the words taking a few breaths to get out. “Unreal.”

  “You think that’s good,” he said, having already slipped a condom on as he rose from above me.

  He didn’t add anything else. What more did he need to say that could possibly top what he was about to do?

  I didn’t need to finish the thought, because within just a few seconds, he was filling me, drawing an even sharper gasp from me. I kissed his shoulders and arms as he wrapped me in his arms and he pushed himself deeper inside me.

  How can you be so perfect. How can you be everything I have ever wanted.

  How can you be so… you, Derek.

  He must have sensed my thoughts, because he started out real slow, as if wanting to make sure I was aware of every slide, every touch, every part of him that filled me. He looked into my eyes, smiled, and said, “There’s no one I have ever seen as perfect as you, Eve.”

  Even more so than…

  I didn’t think anything more, embracing him and kissing his lips. Derek, too, had no interest in saying or thinking anything more, as he picked up the speed on me.

  I grabbed his ass, pushing me into him, and threw my legs into the sky. I closed my eyes as the intensity of the moment overtook me. I screamed Derek’s name so many times, it felt like I was inventing a new language—Derekism, where the only thing I could say was his name.

  Derek didn’t have much stamina in him, having not finished in a few days either, and within just a minute or two, I heard his panting increase.

  “Oh God, Eve, oh, oh,” he gasped.

  “Give it to me, Derek,” I said.

  “Oh, Eve, oh… OH!”

  I felt him swell inside of me, shooting like a jet into his condom. I kissed his neck as he released everything he had, holding him close. Nothing was more intimate for a man than the moment of release, and I wanted him to feel as close to me as he had anyone else.

  His grip tightened on me as he pulled me closer. It would have felt like him trying to crush me in any other circumstance, but here, it was as if he was pulling me closer to him, so we might literally become one.

  Finally, he relaxed, falling off of me. I put my arm over his stomach, cuddling him.

  “You know,” he said after a long silence. “I know there’s more shit to come. I know the Falcon wants me dead. But you know what? I already defeated my greatest demon—me and my impulses. Because he’s defeated, I have you. No man scares me now that I have you.”

  I didn’t think it was possible to love Derek even more than I already did.

  I was so very glad to be proved wrong.

  Epilogue

  I sat at one corner of the triangular table. The other two corners were occupied by two other Black Falcons “heads.” With the three corners occupied, the three remaining sides, each long enough to comfortably occupy five chairs, found themselves occupied with fifteen of what our heads considered to be our best men.

  I liked the orderliness of this.

  So long, of course, as long as the Black Falcons understood I ruled this group. I was the father of the Black Falcons. I had superiority over all of them.

  Even if I never made such a claim.

  Especially if I never made such a claim—I didn’t need to.

  “Gentlemen,” I said. I didn’t need to clear my throat, because no one had dared to do anything but wait for me to speak once they had come in. “How many men did we lose in last weekend’s attack?”

  One of my men, a man by the name of Torque, who had left the Savage Saviors with me when I had created the Black Falcons, rose from his chair.

  “Eighty men died,” he said. “Another seven are wounded beyond recovery and will die within the next week. Eight more fled the scene and will be executed if we see them again.”

  “See to it that those fifteen are dead before the day is out,” I said, knowing that such a thing would happen with ease now. “Now then. How many Saviors did we kill?”

  “We don’t have an exact count,” Torque said, drawing a raised eyebrow from me. “But it seems to be somewhere around two dozen.”

  “You don’t have an exact count,” I said. “That’s unfortunate.”

  And with that, I hoisted out a semi-automatic pistol, pulled the trigger, and killed Torque with a single bullet to the head.

  “Because it took me exactly one bullet to kill you.”

  I sat the gun on the table. No one else dared to even gasp in surprise—for if they did, it would have been the last breath that they drew.

  “Gentlemen,” I said. “That neighborhood housed a personal home of mine. I spent millions of dollars to have that neighborhood for myself. How much was the damage?”

  Another man rose. This one sported something of a smile, as if he wanted to deflect the news.

  “It actually was not as bad as we thought, sir,” I said. “In fact, by my best estimates—”

  I grew tired of waiting for him to speak and put a bullet into his skull.

  “I did not ask for an editorial, I asked for numbers.”

  A man rose.

  “Total property damage approximates about five million dollars, sir.”

  I cradled the gun, as if planning on killing this man, but I had made my point. Any more murders of my own men would have been a foolish act. And in any case, Torque had outlived his usefulness. As for the other man, Vulture, he was a man of great brawn but little brain; and eighteen-inch biceps mattered little in the face of point forty-five bullets.

  Unfortunately, someone, perhaps having anticipated another death, made a dash for the door.

  Before he had so much as landed a finger on the handle, I had landed a bullet in his neck, giving him a far more painful death than he would have faced in battle.

  “Gentlemen,” I said, ignoring the gurgling from the man in the corner. “Does the whore still live?”

  “Yes,” the man who had given me the dollar figure said.

  Smart man. He gives me all that is needed and no more.

  “Tell me, why was it that the whore was not brought to me immediately after the first attack? How did she escape?”

  The same man cleared his throat, which briefly gave me reason to kill him, but I allowed it with his immediate response.

  “The traitor to the Saviors, Tyler, brought her to his temporary apartment. He believed that he deserved to have her before handing her over. He was killed, along with four of our men, when the Savior grabbed the whore.”

  “I see.”

  Though I had many a fury and regret at how everything had transpired that night, little compared to the fact that Tyler had been given the mercy of death before I had a chance to punish him for disobeying my rules in pursuit of mere pussy.

  “In that case, gentlemen,” I said, focusing on what still mattered. “Explain to me why we made the effort to kidnap this girl and sell her if we were going to give her up so easily.”

  No one answered me. Inside me, frustration and rage were building. But I would never allow them to see this.

  I grabbed the gun, and I actually had no interest in killing anyone else. But once I had taken action, I had to finish it.

  I put a bullet in the forehead of the man just to the right of the delivery man
. I didn’t like the way he had dressed today.

  “Allow me to list some names for you, lest you all have forgotten what we are here for,” I said. “First, Rock. One of my greatest men, killed because we did not monitor the enemy closely enough. Second, Eve Kellerman, an asset, a whore, our greatest revenue generator, escaped because we did not monitor the enemy closely enough. And Derek Knight, the last Knight, the last man of the Saviors, alive because we have failed to do what is necessary.”

  I sighed, turning from the table. I was tired. I was exhausted at how we had dealt such a crippling blow to the Saviors when we killed Damion Knight and Dustin Knight, and yet the weakest of them all, Derek Knight, had somehow eluded death and kept the group alive.

  “Because of our failures, change is coming,” I said. “Greater things are coming. Greater resources are coming. But in return, I expect greater results. Greater profits, greater success, and greater amount of death.”

  I turned around, looking every man in the eye.

  “I want to see Derek Knight burn on his own motorcycle, with his crass chopper and its fiery design and shiny chrome igniting at the same time his skin ignites. Next to him, I want his fag of a lieutenant turned inside out from his dick-loving rectum, left to bled out on the streets. In front of both of them, I want Eve club-raped until only her soul remains, at which point I will rape myself to being extinguished. I want Tara stripped of her clothes and flesh alike, marched down the streets until she collapses in death.

  “And with this, I want the Savage Saviors destroyed. I want every life and dollar they have taken from us replaced by their blood and bones. And if you run out of the blood and bones of the Saviors, I want you to pull them from their loved ones. Do I make myself explicitly clear?”

  The room fell into silence.