Savage Saviors: The Complete Boxset (Savage Saviors MC)

by J. C. Allen

“I don’t,” I said. “Not even the slightest. This is an investment. An investment in you. Someday, when you’re free, when you’re working the job you always wanted—a job that will make you proud to have a job—you can pay me back if it’s that disconcerting.”

  “You. Are. Too. Sweet.”

  She pulled me in for another kiss.

  “I’m glad you came for me,” she said. “We’ll have to plan better for this. Give ourselves more than a few minutes in the back alley of a Waffle House.”

  “Tomorrow,” I said immediately, making a mental note to go to bed as soon as I got home. “How soon can I pick you up?”

  “Eleven?”

  “Say no more,” I said.

  I didn’t put a note down, but that was only because I had that time now permanently etched into my mind. I’d forget Eve’s name before I forgot the time to pick her up. I knew as soon as I’d get home that I’d set every alarm in the house for 10:30 a.m., even if I only got a couple of hours of sleep as a result—thinking about Eve would wake me up.

  Hell, I even considered buying a new alarm on the way home, although normal society had probably mostly gone to sleep by now.

  “Let’s get you back home,” I said. “I’m sorry in advance for the part I have to play when we get to your corner.”

  “I suppose I’ll forgive you,” Eve gently cooed, holding my face in her hands tenderly. “But don’t you dare show me up again.”

  “Never.”

  With one more kiss, Eve hopped on the back of my bike. I let her wrap my arms around me, and for just a second, I paused.

  This time, a new flashback came, but it was much more pleasant.

  In this one, I stood on the front steps of our house, having just closed the deal with Maggie. She had her arms wrapped around me from behind, so overcome with emotion that she could only press herself into me tightly.

  It was the moment in which I felt sure that I had left the life of the Savage Saviors behind to be with her.

  Sadly, that was not to be.

  But in this moment now, I had a bit of a new realization.

  I wasn’t quite ready to say I loved Eve, even if the thought came up without me consciously producing it.

  But it was the moment in which I felt sure that I was ready to devote my life as a leader of the Savage Saviors to freeing her.

  “Ready?” Eve asked.

  “Sorry, just thinking,” I said, gunning the engine. “Now I’m ready.”

  With a roar, we sped off into the night, driving back to Eve’s place. I’d forgotten how short of a distance it was, and the sensations of flying on the bike had barely taken hold before I got to the stop. She hopped off and I left the engine running.

  “Thanks sugar!” I said, making more obnoxious facial expressions than I would have if I’d done middle school acting. “You know how to work it!”

  “Like I said, honey, anything for your kind of dough!”

  I smirked, and then I made what felt like a mistake.

  I kept my eyes on her.

  And in response, she kept her eyes on me.

  I felt the temptation to lean in and give her one more kiss. Or, hell, to just lean in and place a reassuring hand on her side and hug her.

  But that would have been suicide for both of us. At best, in the short term, there would be a lot of questioning that would eventually lead to the Falcons discovering who I was and killing both of us.

  At worst, there were gunmen I didn’t see who wouldn’t hesitate to take us both out right now.

  So, before I could let myself linger, with some regret—not at the action, but that I had not resolved the context around the action—I ignited the bike and sped away.

  God, how that hurt. How much that pained me to know that I could have touched Eve one more time… and if I had managed to kill Rock at that party, I might have actually gotten away with kissing her at the corner… but then again, if I’d killed Rock, Eve wouldn’t had to have come back to this corner…

  “DAMNIT!” I roared.

  I wasn’t actually that angry at myself. But I was emboldened, and between Rock wanting a war, my desire to protect Eve, and the general urgency of the situation, I could feel a different kind of anger rising—not the uncontrolled anger, but the anger a warrior needs before going to battle.

  It was the anger that all men had when they knew they would have to kill. It was not an anger that expressed itself in word so much as thoughtless, straightforward action—there was no wasted motion or time, only movements made to kill the opponent. In this case, with my opponent not really present, my movements were spent preparing to kill him so that when the time came, my own bare hands would suck the soul out of his body.

  That anger wasn’t fully present yet, but I knew that by the time Rock and I came face to face, it would be the only emotion in my bones.

  I pulled up to my parking garage, parked the bike, and took the elevator up. Figures there are no drunk fools the night I come up alone. Oh well. Not like Eve would leave you now for that anyways.

  When I got into my apartment, I looked first to the kitchen and saw my old friend, my old temptation, the lady who had gotten me through many a night after Maggie’s death.

  Gin.

  And, I won’t lie, for some period of time, I just stood there, looking at it as a way to help me go to sleep. It would knock me out, yeah.

  But it would take several shots, and I was not going to sleep through my alarms—which, upon thinking that, gave me a valid excuse to leave the sight of the gin for the various devices which could blare noise at 10:30 a.m.

  And, as I thought about it more, did I really want to be the boyfriend who imbibed from the bottle every night? Did I want to be the man who had moved on from his former wife but not from the coping mechanism? No, and no.

  Instead, I found a sleeping pill in my bathroom. Ironically, I’d bought them one night with the intent of mixing them with liquor to create an eternal sleeping effect for me.

  But now, amusingly enough, they’d give me the right dosage of sleep so I could pass out.

  I popped one, went to the bedsheets, and within seconds, found my eyes closing.

  Eve, I thought. I may be a fool. I may make many mistakes with you. I hope you can forgive those initial mistakes.

  But I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. That’s my promise to you.

  I’ll see you tomorrow.

  20

  Eve

  I couldn’t believe it.

  Derek had not stood me up. Well, he had, but it wasn’t out of a desire to never see me again or to dump me. He had just made a mistake.

  And now, having barely slept the night before—partially from getting back at 5 a.m., mostly just out of sheer excitement—my dream was coming true.

  I was about to go on a date; an actual date!

  Not a trip behind a dumpster or an excursion to somebody’s backseat; nothing sordid or perverted, and nothing expected but the pleasure of each other’s company.

  Not an escape to Waffle House where I got paid for my company. Not a true escape from a party that wound up being a date only in the sense that I was alone with Derek. No, nothing like that.

  This was… it was real.

  Live.

  Date!

  I couldn’t help myself but squeal that early in the morning—even though “that early” was well into the morning, at about 10:45 a.m.

  Moreover, it was a date with someone whose company I had actually enjoyed.

  It had been so long since I had even felt interested in dating—“Perks of the job, eh?” as Crystal had put it—and the sensation was something surreal and almost out of this world, as if I might have felt in a dream or from a past life but was certain I’d never come to feel again.

  No. This was real. This was going to happen.

  My only regret was that the only makeup I had was whore’s makeup, and I didn’t exactly have classy clothing I could throw on. But that, that wasn’t too bad, now was it?


  That’s not really what you’re worried about Eve, and you know it.

  It’s how badly Rock has warped your worldview.

  Though I’d only been working the streets for a short time—well, six months with him felt like a lifetime overall—something about it had consumed my entire life and left nothing of what once was behind. Though I’d been on plenty of dates prior to being taken by Rock, I couldn’t begin to play out a memory of any one of them that didn’t immediately spiral into some memory of a random John. In some ways… it was fucking stupid to think, given I’d already been intimate with Derek, but I worried that if we let tonight just culminate into sex, I wouldn’t be able to handle it well.

  Like I said, this was ridiculous to think. I’d felt Derek’s cock inside me, and that was a cock I truly wanted—not just a means to some green.

  And honestly, put in that light, knowing it might happen organically and out of romantic desires—as it did two nights ago, ya dummy—maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  But just the fact that I thought about it…

  These were the thoughts that held me gripped in the throes of terror for many more moments than expected after stepping in front of the mirror to get ready.

  I frowned, chewing on my lower lip. It was scary enough that I had, in such a short time, begun to think of the bulk of my lifetime as already being “another life;” though it felt right, as I couldn’t help but feel like it was an entire lifetime that had passed since then.

  It hadn’t even been a year and I felt like I’d already thrown away my old life. It was pretty depressing, actually, and I hated the idea of having these thoughts just a short time before my date. I tried not to think about it, but the more I tried to turn off the thoughts the more powerful they rolled on.

  I was once a college student. I once went on dates with boys who had financially stable futures.

  I was once a high school student. I once went on dates with high school athletes.

  I was once a middle school student. I once kissed a boy during recess and thought it was the most scandalous thing ever.

  And now…

  Shaking my head, I looked up into the bathroom mirror. I didn’t even know how long I had been standing there, contemplating everything and working myself into a panic.

  Though I was certain I couldn’t have been in there for more than a few minutes, it felt like it could’ve been hours. And that only made me that much more panicked, this time that I was already running late. Guess it would only be fair… but it’s kind of a dick move, really.

  I sighed, swallowing down all the worry, pushing away the pain and regret of my present life and the painfully distant oblivion that my past life had become; mustering all the courage I could, I forced myself to repeat the one simple truth back to myself.

  You are going on a date with Derek Knight.

  The man who wants to save you from this life.

  The first man you felt intimate with during sex in ages.

  A true hero…

  I was about to go on a date! With Derek!

  Yes, I could say it. It all felt right.

  “You got this, Eve,” I said to myself, hoping I could sound enough like Crystal to be convincing. “You got this!”

  Shockingly, it was convincing—only in the sense that I knew Derek would show up on time this time, not that I “got this.” More likely, I would say something really stupid. I greatly feared that I would self-sabotage myself on this date to some awkward fashion, but hopefully—maybe, possibly—Derek would understand.

  If anyone would, it would be him.

  I looked at my reflection, and for the first time since I’d started looking in that mirror I didn’t resent myself.

  I hadn’t bothered with a ton of makeup, going for a more natural look, and had swept my long hair up into a simple and functional ponytail. I’d decided on a light-blue blouse that I had along with my nicer jeans—nicer being relative, but it was as good as I could do without coming across as too slutty for society. I got a good chuckle out of thinking how this would go down.

  Just imagine. Walking into a restaurant, getting the snide whore comments… and yet still being dressed as conservatively as possible.

  It’s hilarious.

  It’s…

  No, it’s not.

  I stopped laughing. I trembled, uncertain, and, worried that my legs might give out entirely, I sat down on the toilet seat.

  “What are you doing?” I asked myself aloud. “Stupid, Eve. You’re just a stupid…”

  I sighed, trailing off—unsure if it was out of exhaustion from the mental roller coaster I’d taken myself on or something else—and forced myself to stand up.

  Nothing that felt this right ever ended well. Nothing in real life ever did. If living two lives had taught me anything, it was that.

  I’d already gotten evidence of it from yesterday when Derek had failed to show up for my afternoon date. He’d at least had the courtesy to show up later that evening, but what good would that have done if Rock had been in a slightly worse mood? What good would it to do in the future when, for the hell of it, Rock stopped by on a whim and, wanting something random in life, decided to kill us?

  I can’t… I can’t drag Derek into this. I know he’s fighting them, but that’s boys fighting boys. This… he’ll get his heart crushed.

  I picked up my phone.

  Then Crystal stepped in front of me.

  Crystal, normally carefree and smiling, stared at me with her hand outstretched, her eyes hard and unwavering. I frowned, knowing that look, or, rather, knowing that that look meant she knew what my look meant. She’d always managed to read me like I read my books before, and this time didn’t seem to be any different.

  I gulped, my mouth suddenly dry, my lips suddenly quivering, and my words suddenly gone from me. Crystal stood there like a demanding mother for what felt like a good minute before sighing exasperatedly and speaking, never once removing her gaze from mine.

  “Hold it, Eve,” she started, looking me dead in the eyes. It was rare for her to be so serious—it was even rarer for her to use my name in this tone of voice. “I know you, I know your brain, and I know that I’m not letting anyone, not even you, ruin this moment. I even know what that brain’s got you thinking, and I’m telling you and your brain to stop right there. You and this guy obviously have something—call it chemistry or stored-up karma or fate, whatever—and I’m not gonna let you just ruin whatever it is just ‘cause you’ve got yourself thinking bullshit thoughts, got it?”

  It sounded so simple coming from an outsider. And what was worse was that rationally, I knew she was right. My brain didn’t allow myself to be happy. Derek and I really did have something—he would not have made love to me if he hadn’t. He wouldn’t have come back if he hadn’t.

  But…

  “So what is it, exactly? Is this the whole ‘who could ever love a whore’-thought process? Or is it the ‘I’ve been with a lot of guys, and they’re all the same in the end’-way of thinking? Or maybe, no, it’s the ‘real life doesn’t have happy endings’-one, is that it? Huh, Eve, is that it?”

  I didn’t answer, but a red-hot burn took to my cheeks. I felt like that answered enough for both of us. Why does it have to be in words? Can’t you see, Crystal?!? You know why!

  “Why do you think someone like you isn’t allowed to be happy?” she demanded.

  I snapped. I was done trying to be rational. My emotions knew damn well why.

  “Like me?” I said, my words more emotional than I’d anticipated. “Come on, Crystal. You’ve got to be thinking it too, right? I mean, what am I doing here? How is this supposed to work? I just go on a date during the day with him and then head out with you at night to suck and fuck anybody who’s got the cash? How’s he supposed to handle that? How long is he really going to put up with something like that? How long do you think he’ll be willing to kiss me knowing that my lips had been wrapped around God-knows how many dicks just a few hours earl
ier? How long before he gets tired of some random John’s sloppy seconds, thirds, or fifteenths?”

  What killed me as I said these words was I knew we’d already had this exact conversation. And I knew given Derek’s role as a club leader, he’d likely had numerous encounters with prostitutes before. Everything I was saying was just an excuse to avoid the potential of pain, not the reality of existing trouble.

  But if perception was reality, then my reality seemed awfully colored by my thoughts right now.

  “Let’s play devil’s advocate. What if he’s as great as he seems, Crystal; what if he’s willing to put up with all of it with a smile on his face?”

  Crystal gave me nothing. Damnit, Crystal. You… ugh.

  “That’s even worse! A guy like that… how could I give him the life he deserves if this is the life I’m stuck in?”

  Because he’s a grown man who can choose whatever life he wants and it’s not on me to give him a life he deserves? Because no one “deserves” a life but earns it? Because he really is working to get you unstuck?

  Damn, Eve, you’re a mess.

  “Have you already forgotten that this Derek-guy isn’t exactly living the straight-and-level life, either?” Crystal shot back. “If I had to guess, I’d be willing to bet good money that he’d be able to take care of himself.”

  “From the likes of Rock?” I said.

  I figured I might as well put it out there. I was quite literally caught between a rock and a hard place—the hard place being my feelings for Derek—and I worried now that the rock would just obliterate the hard place, crumbling it into nothingness. Derek may have hated Rock, but I doubt that he truly knew the depths to which Rock would sink as a human being to get his way.

  But Crystal sure as hell didn’t seem fazed by that, because she only shrugged.

  “This isn’t some fantasy where I accidentally meet the perfect man, Crystal. Something will go wrong. Maybe not between us, but certainly when Rock finds out if nothing else.” I said. “It always does.”

  “It might not be,” she shrugged. “And maybe you’re right; maybe all this won’t work out. And, if that’s the case, at least you’ll have this moment—a moment that interrupted all the bullshit and rancidness of our lives—and we can reminisce on it together after the shit’s hit the fan.”