Savage Savior (Savage People Book 3)

by Charleigh Rose

  “Why do you ask?” he taunted. I was going to break his nose, too, and that was going to be a shame because he was the guy who stitched people up usually.

  “Why are you not fucking answering?” I raised my voice. Carter was a Savage, but he wasn’t a savage, if you catch my drift. He was a badass, sure, but not as aggressive and nasty as Graham and I were, unless you really pissed him off. But make no mistakes. He was the quiet sociopath who was more dangerous than all of us combined.

  “In the kitchen, at the back.” He finally let me out of my misery. “But you can’t go in there. Dahlia’s breastfeeding Kathleen.”

  What the fuck was Dahlia doing bringing a newborn into this death cave?

  I growled at no one in particular and made my way straight to the kitchen without even taking off my gloves and unwrapping my hands. Everything had to wait. Jade was like a fucking butterfly. She caught your attention real fast, was real beautiful, but all you had to do was blink once and poof! she was gone.

  This shit wasn’t happening to me again.

  I wasn’t going to blink tonight.

  This time, the butterfly was going to end up in my fucking jar.

  I swung the door to the pub’s kitchen open and marched in without even flinching. Even when Dahlia caught sight of me, blood dripping from my nose and open lip, and let out a surprised scream, I didn’t bat a fucking eyelash. I narrowed my gaze on Jade, taking a deep breath.

  “You need to come with me.”

  This was the first time I looked at her up close, and boy, she was not disappointing. She had the kind of body you only saw in Hip Hop videos or on a Victoria’s Secret model. Yeah, that hot.

  And the best part was that she didn’t really try either. She wore a sleeveless top, red, and a pair of skinny jeans that hugged her ass the same way I was about to when she climbed into my bed. Jade shot one perfectly plucked eyebrow up and scanned me from head to toe, her arms crossed.

  “Go with you? Where? You need a ride to the ER?”

  She sounded bored, not at all impressed with my size, looks, and ability to kill a man in less than two minutes.

  It made me want her even more.

  “What, this?” I smeared the blood from my lip across my chin and licked it. Her eyes flared in horror and…yes, Little Butterfly, in passion, too. She wanted it, but she didn’t know it yet. She was going to lick a lot of fluids out of this body. Not necessarily blood, but if she was into fucked-up shit, I was definitely game. She was worth punching my own face to withdraw blood if needed. “This is nothing, baby. Nah. I’m going to have a quick shower, and then I’m taking you on a different ride. One you won’t forget.”

  Graham. Was. Going. To. Kill. Me.

  Here I was, in the same room with his wife—her tit was out and her little baby was sucking on it while snoring—hitting on her best friend. And yet, from where I stood, it still looked totally worth it.

  That chick was seriously worth it.

  “Cole? What on earth do you think you’re doing? Get out of here. I’m feeding my baby!” Dahlia shrieked. My eyes were still on Jade, though, and I didn’t budge, giving her another chance to come with me.

  Come, my eyes screamed at her. What the fuck is wrong with you, woman?

  “I don’t even know you.” Jade shook her head, looking amused beyond belief. Her mouth quirked up, and her eyes were shining with something mischievous. “What makes you think that I’ll come to bed with you?”

  I took a step closer to her. “Because everyone does.”

  “Everyone goes to bed with you? You’ve never heard a ‘no’ from a woman?”

  “Of course I heard a ‘no’. When I asked them if I should stop what I’m doing.” I smirked playfully and brushed a lock of hair from her face. She didn’t budge. That was a good sign. Dahlia groaned in the background.

  “You sound awfully cocky,” Jade observed, her voice still playful, not mad. “And what happens if I don’t go with you tonight?”

  “Then, Butterfly, I’ll pick someone else to do the trick and warm my bed.”

  “Butterfly, really?”

  Jesus, this chick had more questions than a two-year-old in a toy store.

  “You’re beautiful and delicate, and I’m about to catch you and keep you for myself, even though it’s wrong,” I hissed, finally shutting her up. I guess it stunned her. She wasn’t ready for this kind of truth. I wasn’t ready for it either, but the need to fuck this girl was so overwhelming, I knew I needed to keep her, at least for a little while, even if she was the worst lay. Honestly, Jade looked so good I thought I could easily have her for a whole month without scrolling over my booty call contact list even once.

  Jade leaned forward and, for the first time since I walked in, said something that wasn’t a response to something I said or did.

  “Then you better get going to find another piece of ass to keep you warm tonight, my dear entomologist, because this butterfly ain’t sleeping in your bed.”

  With that, they both left.

  I had to Google what entomologist means. Apparently, it’s a dude who catches butterflies.

  She forgot one thing.

  I wasn’t an entomologist. I was a motherfucking Savage. And she was still dessert.

  That night, I went to sleep in a cold bed with blue balls.

  I was hungry for my sweets.

  “So, I messed up a few of the customers’ names on their cups. But is it really grounds for being terminated?” I plopped down on Dahl’s couch where she sat with baby Kathleen, who was batting at her dangly earrings and pulling on her hair. Emerson, Dahl and Graham’s three-year-old daughter, sat at her feet ramming a toy train into her toes repeatedly. Dahl didn’t seem to mind the abuse and just stared at Leena lovingly. I told her Kathleen was a middle-aged woman’s name, so now we call her Leena. Dahl cut her eyes to me with a disbelieving look.

  “You wrote ‘Cunty’ instead of Courtney. Hardly an honest mistake, J.”

  “Ew, why are you defending her? And for the record, she was a cunt. She was throwing a fit about Andy making her drink and demanded someone else do it.” Andy was a high schooler with autism, and a great barista, by the way. I had zero tolerance for assholes like that.

  Dahlia’s eyes grew wide. “She did not! Okay, maybe she deserved it.” I felt something digging into my thighs, swiped my hand under my legs, and came up with a handful of Goldfish crackers. I shrugged and tossed them into my mouth.

  “I know, right?” I mumbled through a mouthful. “Thank you so much for having Graham hook me up with a job. I’d be so fu…” My eyes darted to the kids. “Screwed. I’d be so screwed otherwise.”

  I had been trying to save up to go back to school and get the hell out of this city, but my sky-high rent on my shitty apartment made that next to impossible. I’d been meaning to find something that paid better anyway. Graham’s club may not have been my dream job, but it paid a hell of a lot more.

  Over the past few years, something in me had changed. Part of it was seeing Dahlia so happy and settled. She landed the perfect man, became a perfect mom, and had a perfect life. And no one deserved happiness more than Dahl. They were the exception, though. Not the rule. I knew that firsthand. Because my story had no knight, and it certainly wasn’t a fairytale.

  Girls like me ended up with psychotic, obsessive men named Stefano. You know the type. They sweep you off your feet, then try to control every aspect of your life. About a month into our relationship, I found out that Stefano was involved in the Italian mafia. A few years ago, I didn’t even think the mafia was a real thing. Now, it seemed like my life was overrun with mobsters.

  And it wasn’t glamorous. I knew relatively soon that I couldn’t be a part of that lifestyle.

  The guns.

  The drugs.

  The infidelity.

  After about six months, I finally was able to end things with my Italian ex-boyfriend. I had tried to break it off multiple times before then, but Stefano Ricci didn’t take ‘no’ for
an answer. At first, he just kind of acted like nothing happened. Like I didn’t just break things off. But then, he started to get angry. One time, he even handcuffed me to his bed for an entire day, and not in the kinky way. I finally threatened to call the police on him. I was desperate, and it was a last resort. I hadn’t told him about my connection to Graham or vice versa. For one, I didn’t know shit about the mafia, but something told me it would be a conflict of interest. Mostly, though, I just didn’t want to bother Dahl with it. She had her hands full, and I didn’t want to scare her.

  When I pulled the police card, Stefano was enraged. I had never seen him that furious before. Later on, I found out the hard way you don’t threaten a mobster with the police. He trashed my apartment. Broke anything and everything he could get his hands on, then slapped me twice, awarding me with three deep gashes on my face for my ‘willingness to betray him’. But apparently, my threat worked because aside from the incessant phone calls that I suspect were his, I haven’t heard from him since. That was about five months ago.

  “Graham insisted.” She shrugged, prying her blonde locks out of Leena’s little fist.

  “Graham did no such thing.” We turned around as her hot ass husband strolled into the room, one eyebrow raised, calling her on her fib. Jesus. Fuck. Next to his brother, Cole, he was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.

  “Dolly persuaded me with sexual favors.”

  “Earmuffs!” Dahlia covered Leena’s ears, and Emerson immediately clapped her hands over her own, giggling. These kids knew the drill. Graham’s dirty mouth hadn’t changed just because they had babies. Graham smiled one of his rare smiles and kissed each of his girls on the forehead before bending over and grabbing Dahl by the back of her neck and attacking her mouth.

  “Oooookay, kids,” I drawled out as I stood up and reached for Leena. “Daddy’s being all caveman with Mommy again. Em, will you show Auntie Jade your new big girl bed?” Emerson squealed excitedly and bolted off to her room. Just as I was about to turn down the hall, Graham’s voice stopped me.

  “Jade?” I looked at him over my shoulder, Leena on my hip.

  “You get one chance. Don’t fuck it up.”

  I stood in front of the mirror in the employee bathroom of Hot N’ Bothered and smoothed out my long, dark, sleek hair, then applied ColourPop in the shade Creeper to my lips. My green eyes seemed even greener against the heavy black coating my lashes. I tugged on the scrap of fabric posing as a skirt, trying, in vain, to cover my ass. My “uniform” was ridiculous. It was a black and yellow silky push-up bra that had my tits up to my chin and matching teeny tiny skirt with black garters underneath. My borrowed black Prada pumps completed the look. So, ridiculous, yes, but ridiculously hot; even I had to admit it. I took one last look and a deep breath before I decided to face the music.

  It was early, but I still had to fight my way through the crowd to get to the bar. Graham’s clubs never had a lull in activity. Neon pink lights assaulted my vision as Rihanna’s “S&M”—the Britney remix, of course—blasted from every corner of the building. The last time I had been there was when Graham busted Dahl and me sneaking in. I huffed out a laugh, thinking to myself how much had changed since then. For one, I was actually legally allowed to be here now. One thing was the same, though. I definitely wouldn’t be getting laid that night either. When I finally made my way to the bar, Quinn, a gorgeous redhead with almost silver eyes and a perfect naturally cherry red pout, was waiting for me. She was so beautiful that even I wanted to make out with her. And I was like, ninety-nine percent straight. Okay, like ninety percent. I mean, have you seen Ruby Rose?

  “No time for small talk, chica. Take these drinks to the corner booth in the VIP section. You’ll learn as you go.” Quinn popped her fruity pink gum in my face, shoved a tray full of drinks my way, and patted my ass in dismissal. We had met at my orientation earlier that week, and I instantly liked her. It was too soon to tell, but I was pretty sure she could be the third member of our wolf pack.

  I wish I could tell you that I was one of those girls who walked effortlessly in a pair of six-inch heels, but even after years of practice, I still didn’t have it down. Balancing the tray didn’t make it any easier to stay on my feet either. I mouthed a silent prayer that I wouldn’t face plant on my first night all the way up the steps to the VIP area. When I made it in one piece, I breathed a sigh of relief and sashayed over to the corner booth. Confident that I had the hang of it, I approached the table of six rowdy men. I reminded myself to smile, because I’d been told that I had a serious case of resting bitch face, and that probably wouldn’t have gotten me any tips.

  “No fucking way! Slaughterhouse has this shit in the bag,” Drunky Numero Uno shouted as he towered over Drunky Number Two. “I don’t know, man. The Executioner is making a comeback.” He shrugged, obviously not as passionate about the subject as his friend.

  I interrupted their alcohol-induced arguing over what I presumed was some fight and set the glasses down between them. “Can I get you gentlemen anything else?” I asked them as pleasantly as possible.

  “Yeah,” Drunky Number One slurred. “How about your number?” Jesus. I tried so hard to keep my eyes from rolling out of my head. I guess I had better get used to it, working in a place like this. I smiled stiffly.

  “Let me know if you need anything else.” Then I turned around and left before my real, natural response fell from my mouth.

  “Not so fast, sweetheart! We’re just playing with you. Don’t mind my friend. He’s just had a little too much to drink and can’t control himself when it comes to a beautiful woman like you.” A hand darted out to grab my skirt, and I whirled around to defend myself, but my feet got tangled up in each other. I felt myself falling in slow motion.

  This was the best first day, ever, I thought to myself sarcastically, right before I felt huge, warm hands wrap around my waist from behind and haul me up against a body that felt like stone. I didn’t feel the need to fight him off, oddly enough. “Careful, Butterfly,” he mouthed into my hair.

  I froze. That voice. His voice. I hadn’t heard that voice since a few months ago when he tried to get me to go home with him. And before that, it had been years. His hands turned me around to face him. Tall, maybe six three-six four and big as a fucking house. Eyes the color of whiskey framed by thick, straight eyebrows that were drawn together, and nostrils that flared in barely contained rage. His hair was slightly shorter than it was before, but still long enough to rock his man bun. Cole fucking Savage. The beast of a man who had starred in every single one of my fantasies for the past four years. Cole wasn’t even looking at me. No, his rage was directed at the belligerent group behind me.

  “Get the fuck out of my club. If I catch you here again, or around my girl, you won’t have any fucking hands to jack off with,” Cole gritted out through clenched teeth. His hands were still clamped firmly around my waist, and I’m not going to lie—they felt good.

  I expected a fight, but when my gaze shifted to the men, I found all six of them standing there slack-jawed. Cole still kept his hands on me, even as they were seconds from saluting him.

  “Dude, that’s fucking Slaughterhouse Savage,” one of the men breathed in awe as he nudged the one who tried to grab me. My brain worked overtime to connect the dots. Cole was Slaughterhouse? I knew that he was a fighter. I had even been to one of his fights, but I didn’t know anything about that world. I was just there to hang out with Dahl. But the way these guys talked about him made it seem like he was a big deal. Cole Savage was a big deal, both literally and figuratively, but I didn’t know the general population thought so, too.

  “My bad, man. I didn’t know she was yours.” He held his hands up in defense. “No disrespect.” I could practically feel Cole’s temper rising.

  “Get. The FUCK. Out. Of. My. Club,” Cole growled on a shout, not unlike The Beast from The Beauty and The Beast when he first gets pissed off with Belle.

  The drunks seemed to sober up immediately, re
cognizing that they were about two seconds away from getting their asses beat because they scurried for the exit without another word. Pussies.

  Cole’s mouth came down close to my ear again, and I felt his hot, minty breath as he said, “I would’ve made him apologize, but every second he was in front of you, seeing you dressed like that…” he trailed off and ran his nose up and down the side of my neck. I turned my head to give him better access without even making a conscious decision to do so. “I wanted to kill him.”

  Somehow, I forced myself out of the spell he cast on me and broke free of his grasp.

  “Your girl? Your club? That’s news to me. I guess a lot has changed since I started working here,” I looked down at the imaginary watch on my wrist, “about, oh, twenty minutes ago.” His lip twitched like he was amused, but didn’t want to show it.

  “Well, it’s basically my club, since it belongs to my brother. And, yes, you are my girl. You will be, anyway. You just don’t know it yet.” His smirk was infuriating. God, the old Jade would have already had his pants around his ankles in the nearest bathroom stall, riding him like a fucking bull. But Cole was not conducive to the life the new Jade was trying to make for myself. He was wild and reckless. Dangerous and dark. Everything I wanted but nothing I needed.

  “In your dreams,” was my super sophisticated rebuttal.

  “And soon to be in your fucking panties,” he quipped, grabbing my jaw in his huge palm and leaning down so we were face to face. “I let you walk out of O’Leary’s once, Butterfly, but I’ll be damned if I set you free again. You’re mine.” I hated to admit that I secretly loved his words. They started a fire in me. A fire only Cole could put out. Afraid of caving to his will, I rolled my eyes and pivoted back toward the stairs, shaking my ass a little more than necessary. Right before I reached the stairs, I looked at him over my shoulder and smirked, catching them standing there, staring at my body like he was about to eat me alive.