Savage Saviors: The Complete Boxset (Savage Saviors MC)

by J. C. Allen

What was wrong with me? Why was I such a fucking coward?

  “Fucking a, Derek,” I mumbled, although now I was cursing myself out for using my real name here.

  I looked up and saw a man sniffing his finger with some distinct pleasure and then looking at me. Through my sunglasses, I shot him a look that said “the fuck do you want?” and he quickly turned away. Still, the fact that he kept glancing back at me did nothing to quell my already-frayed nerves.

  And then I turned and bumped into… her.

  Eve.

  The girl looked drunk already, given the way her eyes just stared vacantly into the distance, not really looking at anything. Her bumping into me looked like she was in a trance that she had not left, and she showed no signs of recognizing me. Which was definitely good, but…

  How was I ever attracted to this girl?

  Strangely, even as I thought that, I knew that her current state was somehow influenced by… alcohol? Rock? Something terrible for the soul, that was for sure.

  I hated to admit it, but I empathized with the look on her face. She only looked down at herself with an expression that seemed to say that she’d been expecting something like this to happen.

  I knew that look all too well.

  It was the same look I saw from myself.

  That didn’t mean I was going to be nice to her though.

  It also meant I probably had to minimize the attention on me and spend as little time with her as possible.

  “Oh, well, hi there,” she said, in acting so bad and so forced I actually began to feel a modicum of sadness for her.

  “You,” I said.

  I did not include my accent. Eve picked up on it immediately.

  If I was dead, well, fuck, too late now. Time to drive home the stake while the shotguns came out.

  “What’s a stupid whore like you doing here, anyway? And why would you be dressed like that? They run out of booty shorts and tube tops at Forever 21 or something? Did you spend the money I gave you for accompanying me already? Or did you buy a sharper silver tongue so you would never reveal who you work for?”

  Eve wasted no time in glaring back at me. I saw hurt beneath those eyes, just as I’m sure she saw it beneath mine, but for both of us, we had nothing but venom and disgust with the other on the surface.

  I despised her for being a Falcon.

  She despised me for calling her out on it.

  Guess that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

  “I’ll have you know…”

  She hesitated for a beat, as if deciding…

  Oh my God. As if she wants to decide whether or not to out me or not. She has that power.

  “Sir,” she said, and though I was about to get pummeled with the harshest words possible, at least that would not be accompanied by a bullet from afar. “My boss is paying good money for me to be here. Even went and paid for the dress that I got to look nice for you, you shithead!”

  Eve curled her lip in disgust and made an obvious note of taking in the sight of me. I think she was still trying to decide whether or not to sell me out—that she hadn’t done so immediately gave me a modicum of hope, but hope had a way of setting you up for a much worse fall later on.

  “And while we’re on the subject: what fucking right does some… punk! Some punk have in questioning the value of expensive clothing when he’s dressed in rags that look cheaper than the shit they’ve got the busboys running around in?” she said.

  And then she got close to me, so close that it looked like she would grab my dick.

  In fact, that’s exactly what she did.

  “We all have a part to play here, Derek,” she whispered. “Don’t think that just because my director is someone you hate doesn’t mean I want to be on stage.”

  “The fuck you talking about,” I demanded, although two things were conspiring against my anger for her.

  One, I knew full well what her analogy meant, even if I was not smart enough to ever come up with something so creative.

  Two, I was getting aroused by Eve—the person, not the whore—grabbing me.

  “Come with me to a room,” she whispered, stepping back and wearing a flirtatious look that did not seem as forced as a whore would normally need to make. “You got bills, right?”

  I nodded. Without a word, she grabbed my hand and led me upstairs. I had no time to ask if there was anything downstairs; I just had to hope and pray that Mr. Suspicious upstairs took no offense to my returning with a whore like the other men present.

  Well, I walked right by Mr. Suspicious. I know he saw me—he wasn’t a damn bit about to let anyone on his floor without seeing them go by. But he also saw me hand in hand with Eve, and he saw her bat her eyelashes at me as we went into a private room that had bookshelves, a bathroom, and a couple of couches.

  If ever I had cover, this was it.

  Eve locked the door behind me.

  “You’re not very subtle, by the way,” she said.

  “The fuck?” I said. “You didn’t recognize me until you heard my voice.”

  “I didn’t recognize you as Derek, no, but I recognized you as someone acting too strange to not draw suspicion.”

  God fucking damnit.

  “Even being a ‘stupid whore,’” she said, oozing arrogant pride on every syllable. As she should, if she’s as smart as I think she is. “I can tell when a guy is keeping tabs on someone. It wouldn’t take Sherlock Holmes to know you were tailing one of the Falcons, probably my boss, and, at an event like this, there’s only two types of folks interested in finding a specific member. Either they want to do business and they’re all smiles and handshakes and face-to-face chitter-chatter… or they’re a narc trying to make a bust, in which case they’re gonna be the kinda sleazy fuck who goes slinking around corners, cringing at the threat of noise, and trying to cut down a working girl just ‘cause he couldn’t watch where the fuck he was going.”

  Oh, shit.

  “And I’m just a ‘stupid whore,’ remember?” she said with a smirk. “There are men here who are much more trained than I.”

  “I’m well aware, the guy on the second floor balcony has already spoken to me about being in places I shouldn’t be,” I said, groaning. I didn’t know how the fuck I was getting out now, let alone getting a shot off at Rock. I had a really bad feeling the second I left this room, I’d walk out to a half-dozen of Rock’s men approaching.

  “What did you come here for, anyways?” she asked. “You obviously aren’t in the good graces of the Falcons.”

  “Slight understatement,” I said.

  “And why did you call me a stupid whore like you did?”

  She wasn’t angry when she said it, at least not as much as she was before. She instead sounded like a wounded child, confused as to why someone who had treated them so well before had now mocked them so ruthlessly. As well she should be, I was a confusing person.

  So instead of making it more confusing my explaining all of the backstory between the Falcons and the Savage Saviors, instead of telling her why I hated Rock, I just kept it simple.

  “That was a mistake,” I interjected. “I shouldn’t have said that and I am sorry.”

  Her mouth hung open for a moment, looking like I’d just proclaimed myself Jesus Christ and offered her free rides on my cotton unicorn from Saturn. It dawned on me that she probably hadn’t had anyone tell her sorry in forever. How long has it been since she’s had decent human interaction?

  “So now you’re saying that I’m not a whore?”

  I mean, I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t pretend that when I walked up to her, she was looking to sell comic books.

  But she wasn’t asking that. She was asking if she was a whore versus just a working class whore.

  “It wasn’t fair to say it like I did.”

  “And how did you say it?” she demanded, still seeming confused by my answers.

  “Like it was something to be ashamed of.”

  “You don’t think it is?” she asked.


  Poor girl. She’s never had someone empathize with her.

  “Work is work,” I said. “Besides, I’ve got a bit of experience with prostitutes and I think they’ve actually got their shit together. Certainly seem more on the pulse than a lot of other people in this world—maybe because they’ve got a lot of time to think and not too many people bothering to ask them what they’re thinking about.”

  As nice as this conversation was, though, we were getting away from the main point of my being here.

  “Look, Eve, I need you to help me out with something. Do you think you can do it?”

  “What?” she said, curious.

  “It’s going to be dangerous, but I don’t think you’re going to mind,” I said. “Because, as stupid as I was—as stupid as I probably am—I can see that you want an excuse to get out of here. You’re not wrong. Somebody here is bound to figure me out, too, and when they do I think you know what’s going to happen to me.”

  Eve’s face told me she knew exactly what I meant.

  “You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” she said.

  I saw no reason to lie. Eve might be the last person I saw alive who didn’t hate my guts with every fiber of their being. I might as well spit it out.

  “I want to kill Rock.”

  “Oh my God, you too?”

  That… was not the response I was expecting.

  Granted, it wasn’t like I was expecting anything other than acceptance and a knowledge she couldn’t do anything. I figured, as a Black Falcon but with attraction to me, she would just say “good luck,” step aside, and then pretend none of this happened.

  But to so actively express her disdain for Rock? Her boss?

  “You hate him?”

  “Hate him? I fucking curse the day he was born. I hate every part of him so much, words cannot express the disgust I feel for him. Because of him, I don’t get angry at being raped anymore. Because of him, getting knocked up is literally a death sentence. Fuck, half the things I do could be construed as grounds for a death sentence. You want to know what I think about Rock? I think he’s worse than the devil.”

  I was taken aback.

  I had vastly misinterpreted everything. Unless this was a setup, but I just didn’t believe that was possible.

  “So when you stood next to him…”

  “I feared for my life,” she said. “He was coming to lecture me and put me in my place. Remind me that I was just a whore, and not the nice kind of whore you’re describing me as. You didn’t see me shaking?”

  “Sadly, no,” I said, knowing how much my own anger had colored my perception of how I viewed the event. “If I had, I would have shot him right there.”

  “Then you’d be dead too!”

  “Yeah, well, now you know why I might not have been able to ask you out on a second date.”

  She crossed her arms, giving an expression I had not expected to see on her at all tonight.

  A genuine smile.

  “Who are you, Derek?”

  That was a conversation much too long to have right now. Especially with everything going on outside these doors. But if anyone deserved to know…

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” I said. “You come with me out of this party—you escape Rock’s clutches—and I’ll tell you everything I need to know.”

  Something very odd happened in that moment, something that I swore could never have happened after the incident two years ago.

  I still wanted to kill Rock. My mind danced a thousand dances the prospect of killing Rock and seeing his funeral take place. My own feet even started to move a bit.

  But…

  It wasn’t what I wanted the most anymore.

  What I really wanted was to get Eve to safety and out of the clutches of that tyrannical man. Obviously, that went hand in hand with Rock’s grave, but if, for whatever reason, it came down to protecting Eve or killing Rock?

  I would protect Eve.

  “You have yourself a deal,” Eve said. “But if you came here to kill Rock, how the hell are you going to get out of here? You’re never going to get him alone. At best, you’ll get him physically removed from his guards, but he will never be out of sight of them.”

  I shrugged. It was as if I had sobered up for the first time in a couple of hours, realizing the absurdity of my plan—to say nothing about the sheer luck it had taken not to get killed already.

  “Honestly, I never planned to escape,” I said. “If I did, great, but it wasn’t the main goal. The goal was to kill Rock for all that he did to my family. Give him a taste of his own medicine. Now, though… I might be a little more patient.”

  The genuine smile that filled her face lifted my spirits and gave me a fucking odd sensation I had never felt before.

  “There’s a war coming, Eve, and it’s coming between the Black Falcons and the Savage Saviors. I’d always planned on being like a kamikaze. But now… I’d rather see you be safe. I don’t know much about you, but I do know you’re not a stupid whore. You’re the opposite of both words, no matter how you make your income. If nothing else, you would make for a hell of an informant.”

  She even blushed. She blushed!

  “Well thank you, although I wouldn’t assume too much if I were you. Rock’s good at keeping his units separate and us in the dark. I appreciate you keeping me safe, and I can go with you tonight, but I can’t not come back. If Rock or any of his cronies ever see me out, I’m dead on the spot. Doesn’t matter if we’re at a fancy restaurant or a gas station.”

  I hated that she was right. Extraction from the Black Falcons was not an easy task—in fact, it was technically impossible at the moment since we’d never succeeded. We’d never gotten anyone to jump ship and join us, probably because people knew Rock’s punishments were a crueler fate than death.

  If I was going to get Eve out of her nightmarish hell, no matter how much I wanted to play hero in her life, I could not do it tonight. I had to plan.

  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t play her in her evening.

  “Agreed,” I said. “But you’re still coming with me. We’ll go get some food or whatever you want.”

  “Really just want a nice bed,” she said.

  I took it in the most nonsexual way possible. She said it so flippantly and so casually I knew it wasn’t a subtle invitation.

  But I also knew if we wound up there…

  “You got it,” I said, equally collected. I approached the door and paused. “But we have to exit as coolly as possible. I’ll go first. You pretend you’re cleaning up. Here.”

  I pulled out five twenties. She nodded, as if affirming it was enough.

  “If you feel bad about it, then give it to me when we get out. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  I almost hugged her. Almost.

  But instead, now I had a new mission.

  Escape.

  Meet Eve.

  And give her a nice bed. If anything else came of it, so be it.

  Eve went to the bathroom as I opened the door.

  And there, standing there, was the man who had eyed me suspiciously before.

  “Why hello there good fella!” I said, smoothly rolling back into my Southern accent. “You got some fiiiine women here, if I do say so myself!”

  “Who are you with?”

  Boy, cutting right to the point. He was not fucking around anymore.

  “I’m sorry sir, but my hearin’ has gone to the wind, whaddya—”

  “Who are you with?”

  The sternness in his voice could not be any harsher if he tried. It was clear that there was about to be physical contact—he was going to grab me or I was going to have to beat his ass.

  I tried not to make it obvious that I was sizing him up, but even then, that didn’t seem like it would mean much. I was not a small dude, but this dude had at least three inches and thirty pounds on me—at least.

  “He just came, don’t you think he’s a little tired?”

  God bless Ev
e’s fake sultry voice, because it disarmed the guard. He walked into the room, trying to get a peek of Eve.

  I turned and, seeing Eve had her top off, turned back away. It would have been a hilarious reaction if not for the actual life or death situation I was in.

  “You’d do well to shut your mouth, whore, before—”

  But he never got to finish his words, because I punched him right in the back of the skull.

  That was a mistake.

  The man rose, looking at me with a smug look of amusement, as if I had done nothing more than tapped his shoulder.

  “I knew you were a Savior,” he growled. “Boss is gonna make me a rich man for bringing him a Savior.”

  Then, with what could only be described as light-speed movement, he punched me right in the ribs with a force like that of a bulldozer. I’m pretty sure that my heart stopped for a few seconds. I’m definitely sure I broke a few ribs.

  “Ugh, shit,” I said, dropping the accent—there was no reason to.

  “You were obvious the second you walked in here, you fool,” the man said, kicking me in the chin, dropping me to the ground. “And now you’re going to regret it more than you ever regretted joining that pussy club over there.”

  “STOP!”

  Eve’s cry didn’t fully stop the man. But it did distract him just long enough for me to reach into my belt, pull out my gun, and fire.

  I didn’t kill the man, but I did make him recoil. He put his hand on his chest, staring in disbelief.

  I fired again.

  Again, the man recoiled.

  Finally, one last shot to the brain dropped him straight to the ground.

  “Oh my God, are you OK?” Eve said.

  “No,” I said. “And we gotta get the fuck outta here. These walls are thick but they ain’t that thick. And I don’t got a silencer.”

  “But—”

  I didn’t waste any time. It didn’t matter what else she had to say, because every millisecond we delayed moving was a chance for Rock’s goons to come in here, see one of their own dead, and know that a Savage Saviour was present.

  I grabbed her hand, ignoring the shortness of breath and the pain—goddamn, I had never felt pain like this—in my ribs. I stood up, got all the grimacing I could out of my system, and put my arm around her.