Sin & Savage

by Anna Mara

  Tori smirked to herself as another bolt of insight hit her. You know what it was—why she was feeling this way about the brute? The close proximity she’d been forced into with the biker while on the bike was just bringing back all those old feelings again that she hadn’t felt since she’d been with her ex. Hadn’t she admitted to herself earlier that she’d felt as if she was coming back to life after being in a deep freeze that her failed marriage had put her in?

  Yeah—that was it! That’s why every hormone in her system was on overdrive right now. It wasn’t lust for Savage, the criminal thug. It was just lust for living life again.

  Happy with her logic, Tori let her feelings fade away and she scanned her new surroundings. She was in a reception area with an unmanned desk on the main wall and a long couch along another. Two separate hallways on either side of the desk probably led to the ‘spa’ rooms in the back, where they obviously catered to their debauched clientele.

  Suddenly, she sensed that she wasn’t alone in the room. Her curious eyes shifted to a bay window at the side. It was occupied by another pretty, Asian girl, also in her mid-twenties. But this one was curled up in a ball, smoking a cigarette and gazing absentmindedly through the pane of glass.

  An aura of sadness enveloped her and Tori immediately sensed her life story without knowing anything about her life story. She had helped enough souls in trouble through her father’s church in Gideon that she intuitively knew when someone needed help.

  She approached the forlorn girl. “Hi, my name’s Tori,” she said, to break the ice.

  The girl turned with haunted eyes and studied Tori from head to foot. Having appeared to decide that this new intrusion didn’t mean her any harm, she responded with a blank, “Lily.”

  “Are Stella or Roger here, Lily?”

  “Stella’s out. Roger’s in the back.” Lily turned to stare out the window again.

  “I’m new in town. I’m here from Gideon, Texas. Where are you from?”

  This time the girl didn’t turn at all. She blankly continued to smoke her cigarette. “Home,” she uttered wistfully, her voice barely a whisper.

  Tori sensed that the girl didn’t want to talk anymore. Wanting to respect her privacy, she turned and began walking away. But something made her stop in her tracks—whether it was the soft, sad way Lily had said the word ‘home’ or Tori’s still, small voice inside of her that was screaming for her to go back.

  Having made up her mind, Tori took a deep breath and turned back, noticing that Lily was now watching her. She stopped a foot away. “Children of God are not slaves.”

  Surprised, Lily stared wide-eyed for a couple of seconds. “What?”

  Tori raised her voice. “I said—that Children of God are not slaves! You were created by the Almighty to be free and not under anyone’s rule. You have power. If you don’t want to be here, don’t be here! Leave!”

  Lily seemed to let the pronouncement sink in. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they…” she indicated the back rooms with a curt nod of her head, “brought me here to work for them and I owe them money.”

  A shot of dark, hot anger coursed through Tori. “You’re not their slave. This is a free country. Don’t let them keep you in chains. Like my grandmother always says, fuck ’em all, and walk!”

  As if in slow motion, Lily straightened up from the fetal position and stood up. A sharp gleam had entered the girl’s eyes. Tori nodded to herself, knowing that her speech had been heard loud and clear.

  “Fuck ’em all!” Lily said, as if the words held magic power and she was testing out that newfound power for the first time in her life.

  “Do you have anyone who can help you?”

  Lily shook her head no. Tori pulled out her smart phone and scrolled through the screen. “Let’s find you a woman’s shelter here in Vegas. They’ll keep you safe.”

  “I know of one on North Sahara Street.” Lily suddenly seemed excited and blooming back to life, like a dying flower that had just been given a shot of life-giving water.

  “Okay, then! Do you have a means of getting there?” Lily again shook her head no. “I’ll call you a cab.” Tori scrolled through her phone for a taxi company. She dialed the number and ordered the car.

  A luminous smile lit up Lily’s face. “Fuck ’em all,” she repeated again and again, this time with more grit. She turned to Tori and hugged her fiercely. “Thank you.”

  Tori nodded approvingly. “Let’s get your stuff, and get you out of here.”

  “Okay, follow me.” Lily led Tori through the hallway on the right of the reception desk and into a back room that appeared to be some sort of lounge area for the spa workers. There was a bank of lockers on one wall, a couch with end tables and lamps, a coffeemaker near a sink, and a small refrigerator next to that. Lily went straightaway to one of the lockers and on opening it, began stuffing its contents, which consisted mainly of clothes, into a black duffle bag that she’d fished out of it first.

  A little man of about 50 years of age with greasy, longish hair and a very noticeable potbelly, shuffled into the room. He gave the appearance of someone who was rumpled and dirty, even though his clothes were obviously clean.

  His furtive, small eyes took in Lily’s movement. “What the fuck’s going on here? You have a customer waiting in the back.”

  “Fuck you, Roger! I’m leaving. I’m not your slave!”

  “Leaving?” Roger’s beady eyes bulged. He came closer to the girl. “You can’t leave. You owe us money.”

  Tori stepped in between them. “She can leave if she wants to. You have no right to stop her.”

  Roger’s beady eyes swiveled to her, finally realizing that there was another girl in the room. “Who the fuck are you, bitch?”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” Tori stood her ground.

  Lily finished stuffing her things into her bag. To make her point of leaving even more forcibly, she picked up a table lamp and threw it against the wall. The ceramic base smashed into pieces; the sound reverberating throughout the room.

  “Fuck ’em all! Fuck you, Roger, and Stella too! I’m tired of this shit and I’m gone.” She snatched up her carryall and marched out.

  Roger turned to Tori, his eyes blazing with evil intent. “You—you did this!” he spat out. Suddenly, he lunged at Tori, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her violently, his rage giving him superhuman strength.

  Tori screamed and began to fight back. He pushed her away then, releasing his death grip on her. She sprawled backwards onto the couch, the soft springs cushioning her fall.

  Just then, Savage burst into the room and immediately pounced on the older man. Grabbing him by the arm, the biker yanked the spa owner around to face him before hauling his fist back and landing a vicious punch to his jaw. Roger folded like a cheap lawn chair, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

  But Savage didn’t stop there. He grabbed a handful of the other man’s shirt and hauled him back up again before spinning him around and making him face the outlaw once more. This time he buried his fist hard into the older man’s solar plexus. As Roger moaned and bent over in pain, the biker brought his knee up and thrust it into his stomach—once, twice, three times…

  Tori scrambled up from the couch and watched in horror as Savage pummeled the spa owner, landing another fist to his face, this time drawing blood from his mouth. It was obvious that Roger was no fighter and was already a defeated man, but Tori knew, as sure as she knew that the sun was going to shine tomorrow, that Savage wasn’t going to stop until the other man was unconscious—or worse, dead.

  “Savage, stop it!” she screamed.

  The biker froze instantly, his fist in mid-air, about ready to land another punch on the defenseless man’s jaw—the man he was now holding up by the scruff of his bloodied shirt.

  Savage turned then and took in the look of pure horror stamped across Tori’s face—and for one second of time, he saw himself through her eyes. He saw the shock, and
the terror, and the fear, and the revulsion at the vicious animal he had allowed himself to become—and for the first time in a very long time, he was ashamed.

  He felt the blood drain from his face. Immediately, he released his grip on Roger’s shirt and the spa owner crumpled to the floor in a spineless heap. He stared at the other man’s blood smeared all over his own hands and, blinking rapidly, he began to calm down, his breathing returning to normal.

  “No more, please,” Tori whispered.

  “Did he hurt you?” Savage demanded roughly.

  Tori shook her head. “No. He—he just scared me, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Savage nodded, seemingly accepting her statement. Bending down, he suddenly grabbed a handful of Roger’s hair and jerked his head up off the floor.

  “Thank the little lady for saving your miserable life, because I wasn’t finished with you yet, asshole,” he growled.

  “Th—thank you,” the spa owner whispered, barely making a sound with his choked words.

  “No one touches her on my watch, got that?” Savage let Roger’s head drop back onto the floor. Then, as if to seal his decree, he reached down and wiped his bloody hands on the back of the man’s shirt, before standing up again.

  Suddenly, four girls—the three who had greeted Savage outside and another that Tori hadn’t seen before—plowed into the room, rushing to their lockers.

  Ivy glued her eyes to the crumpled heap of a man that was her boss. “If Lily’s leaving, then we leave too, jerk off. Fuck ’em all!” she decreed. The other girls nodded in agreement, and they all collected their things and streamed out.

  Tori smiled. It was obvious a full revolt was now in progress.

  Savage noticed the secret smirk playing on her lips. “Did you have something to do with all this?”

  She threw him a casual shrug. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, but either way, it looks like you’ll have to find another massage parlor to frequent, Mr. Savage, because this one’s closed for business.”

  Savage scowled. “We’ll talk about this later, Snow White,” he threatened ominously.

  The biker was red hot furious. For her own safety, he had specifically told her to stay outside. But she had blatantly ignored his request and look at what had happened!

  He moved to the sink and quickly washed the rest of the blood off of his hands with soap and water. Turning around, he suddenly saw Tori helping Roger up off the floor. His jaw dropped in shock at the sight.

  “What the fuck? Get away from him, Tori!” Savage rushed forward and pulled her away from the spa owner’s grasp.

  “No! Help me carry him to the couch. He’s hurt.”

  “I should damn well hope so. I hit him hard enough!”

  “Savage, please—help me. I can’t leave him like this.”

  She looked up at him then, her wide eyes pleading. Suddenly, he knew, then and there, that he couldn’t refuse her anything. When had he turned into such a mush ball, allowing a little thing like her to boss him around? Acquiescing, he bent down and hauled Roger up, throwing him easily onto the couch.

  “You—you’re not going to hit me again, are you?” Roger choked out, still frightened by the other man’s brawn.

  “Only if you have it coming to you, dirt bag,” the younger man snarled.

  Savage snatched a white wash cloth near the sink and turning on the tap, soaked it under the running cold water. Finished with his task, he threw it at the spa owner. It landed squarely on the other man’s chest. Cautiously, Roger retrieved it and began dabbing at his bruised face.

  Savage went to stand in front of him. Folding his massive arms across his chest, he assumed a pose of caged violence that threatened to erupt at any second.

  “You’re going to answer some questions for me, you worthless piece-of-shit,” the biker drawled, barely raising his voice. “I’m looking for Joe Sorelli. Where is he?”

  Roger’s eyes grew wide with fear at the outlaw’s imposing stance. “I—I don’t know—I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

  Savage took a step towards him and the spa owner paled even more.

  “I swear, Savage, I don’t know where he is—I swear it.”

  “Who would know?”

  “Try—try Vivian. She owns The Final Cut Hair Salon on Fremont. They’re old friends.”

  Savage paused, his eyes narrowing on the cringing, shell-of-a-man and then he nodded, finally having decided to believe him. “If you hear anything else about Sorelli, you call me, understand?”

  “Yes—yes, sir,” Roger stammered respectfully.

  Savage nodded again. Then, grasping Tori’s hand, he threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her towards the exit. “Come on, Snow White, our job here is done,” he pronounced, marching her out like a three year old child.

  He was still angry with her for disobeying his instructions. Someone like her didn’t belong in his world and she could have gotten hurt. Why, when he had rushed into that lounge ten minutes ago and had seen that slimeball with his hands around her, shaking her like a bed sheet, well—something in him had snapped and he’d gone wild. Maybe he shouldn’t have hit Roger so hard but then again, the asshole had had it coming to him for hurting her.

  Before then, he’d been in one of the backrooms with Ivy and the other girls, buttering them up. He knew how to play their game, and how to tease and charm information out of them. It had been his experience in life that if you wanted information, to never ask the ones in charge but to cozy up to the women around them instead. They usually saw, heard, and knew everything anyway; and with a little bit of flirting on his part, he could easily find out whatever he needed to know.

  And he was good at it too—charming the women. In fact, some of his best information had come via that method and it would have worked today too, if he hadn’t heard something being smashed in the room next door, followed by shouting and yelling. And when he’d rushed in and had taken in the scene of Tori being accosted—well, he’d gone ballistic.

  As he marched Tori down the hallway and into the spa’s main reception area, he felt the resistance in her body at being led like that—but he didn’t care. He was here to protect her and protect her he would—until the completion of his assignment, of course.

  God, she was beautiful, though! Her fingers, small, soft and tender, were intertwined with his rough ones, and the sensation only magnified to him the gulf between their two worlds. She was Heaven and he was Hell, and ne’er the twain shall meet. Hadn’t he read that in a book once?

  As they walked outside into the bright, Vegas sunshine, he saw Lily, Ivy and the other girls getting into a waiting cab.

  Tori yanked her hand out of his then. “That’s far enough, mister,” she gritted up at him, before turning away and approaching Lily. She smiled warmly at the young girl. “You’re going to be okay, I know it.”

  Lily hugged Tori. “Thank you.”

  “Do you have any money?”

  “Between us, we have a little.”

  “Wait.” Tori opened her purse and pulled out Nana’s wad of cash. She counted out some bills. “There’s a thousand dollars here. Take it—for you and the girls,” she offered.

  Suddenly, a strong male hand clamped down hard on her wrist, preventing her from giving the money away. She looked up at Savage’s stony face and watched as his lips turned into a teasing grin but the grin didn’t reach his laser-sharp eyes.

  “That’s not my money, is it, Snow White? The balance you owe me?” he menaced softly.

  Tori’s body stiffened at his threatening tone but she wasn’t afraid of him. In fact, she had the sudden urge to slap his face hard—payment for the man he was, and to wake him up to the man he could be. She sensed good in him but it was encrusted with too much bad.

  Her spine straightened in defiance. “No, sir, it’s not! Yours is in the hotel safe. I wouldn’t want my kneecaps broken if I didn’t pay you.” She kept her voice low, though it trembled wi
th anger.

  His stance suddenly relaxed and his lips twitched with humor. Respect and admiration for her shone in his eyes, and he let go of her wrist.

  Tori turned back to Lily and she stuffed the bills into the girl’s hand. “Take it. It’ll help you and the others. Children of God look after each other, right?” She winked.

  Lily nodded and then hugged Tori again. Unshed tears of gratitude glistened in her eyes. “Thank you, Tori,” she whispered, before getting into the cab with the other girls.

  They all waved as the taxi sped away.

  “Love you, Savage!” Ivy yelled out the window, before the car rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

  Savage shook his head in disbelief. Tori had actually given those girls $1000 of her and her grandmother’s money, out of the goodness of her heart—to help a stranger in need. Something like that was unthinkable in his world! In fact, in his world, you could get killed for a measly ten bucks.

  He was coming to believe that this sweet, angelic, goody-two shoes, slip-of-a-girl had power—real power—coursing through her being. How many times had he made veiled threats to her and she’d stood up to him every single time, courage shining through her beautiful brown eyes? And no matter what had happened to her yesterday with Wizard and today with Roger, she still remained kind and gentle to others. When he’d seen her trying to help that scumbag up off the floor just now—the man who had attacked her only moments earlier—he’d been thunderstruck! What planet had the girl come from? Because it wasn’t the one he was living in, that was for damn sure!

  In a flash, a realization hit him. Maybe it was her goodness that gave her strength and courage and protection from all the bad out there; and maybe, just maybe, she was the one with the true power; not him with all his muscles and brute force. Because every time he looked at her now, her angelic smile alone could defeat him and bring him to his knees.

  As she turned back to him, Savage pasted on his tough guy, biker mask again. “You and me—we need to talk,” he pronounced, making sure his voice sounded gruff and mean.