Savage Saviors: The Complete Boxset (Savage Saviors MC)

by J. C. Allen

  It was time for Derek Knight to go from the very young man who had inherited the club to a more grizzled man who would lead it into its first war under my tutelage.

  “We got two options, as I see fit,” Roost said. “We can either shoot them assholes right back, or we can hold. But ya gotta—”

  “Twenty-four hours,” I said.

  It felt beyond relief to know that my words did not have any hesitation to them. If I was hearing myself speak them, I’d say they sounded certain, direct, and honest.

  But I didn’t have time to reflect on how they sounded. I just had to act.

  “It’s 3:30 p.m. right now,” I said. “What time was he killed?”

  “Noon,” someone said.

  “You have another half hour to mourn him,” I said. “I will say a few words at the end of that half hour to commemorate our fallen brother. In time, we will hold a proper funeral for him and honor Brick’s life. But after that half hour, we need to plan our next attack. And it is not going to be one step up on the ladder.”

  I knew that I couldn’t say “Guys, this is a good excuse for us to kill Rock so that I can save my new girlfriend Eve.” But it wasn’t lost on me that this was also a mighty convenient way to blend the two goals together.

  “I lost my entire family here because of Rock. It goes without saying that we all have known someone lost to that motherfucker’s angry outbursts and crime. We are not going to move up the chain as the Black Falcons did. We are going to kill him by 3:30 p.m. tomorrow.”

  I looked around the room for anyone who dared to show fear, surrender, or quit. None did. Good—if they had, that would’ve been the end of their tenure.

  “Once the half hour ends, we spend as much time as we need coming up with a plan that will minimize casualties and maximize our chances of killing him. What just happened is horrible, but it does fall in line with something Roost has told me before—Rock is losing himself. He’s acting riskier and more foolishly. And if he’s doing this, that means he’s leaving himself open for attack. So.”

  I swallowed, perhaps my only sign of nervousness. But I wasn’t really nervous—I just really needed to swallow.

  “Do whatever you need to for the next half hour as long as you stay here. And then, we meet. We plan. And then, we attack. No matter what, times are going to change here. We need to stay vigilant.”

  I paused for a second, considering that my next words were going to violate the very rule I’d tried to set clear earlier. But, fuck it.

  “We need to stay armed. And we need to stay opportunistic.”

  Everyone solemnly nodded around me. Good.

  Eve, you’re not going to have to wait a few days.

  Just one more night. Just hold out one more night and you’ll be fine.

  26

  Eve

  Only an hour had passed since I saw Derek. And yet, already, it felt like I was going through withdrawals.

  Being with Crystal in that room… while it was probably better than being alone, it just wasn’t the same as being with Derek. I didn’t have a couch to cuddle up with him on. I didn’t have the money to just order pizza without a second’s thought. I didn’t have any of that.

  It was strange and odd just how strong the contrast was between my home with Derek and my home here. It really did feel like the difference between heaven and hell. I suppose that having to wait for heaven to come meant that I would appreciate it all the more, but I had my doubts I could be that patient.

  Not that I really had much of a choice in the matter, anyways.

  “Don’t look so down, girly,” Crystal said, offering me compassionate grin. “You two will be together again in no time.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I know. You’re right. I’m just…”

  Horny. Desperate. Lonely. Sad. Yearning.

  All of the above?

  All of the above.

  “Itchy?” Crystal suggested for me.

  I giggled and nodded. I suppose in one way, yeah. I have an itch in the form of Derek I can’t get rid of.

  I just hope that that’s not literal!

  “Yes, very,” I said.

  I looked down at the street, waiting for our bus to show up. In a weird way… I don’t want to say I was invigorated for the evening, but knowing it was going to end so very soon brought a certain odd feeling of observation. Appreciation, hell no.

  But I was making it a point to notice things, perhaps out of some deep notion to never forget this experience in the future.

  The way we dressed and what percentage of skin we showed—and how far we could push boundaries before getting looks from the police, had we gone to a typical mall.

  The looks people would give us—even the ones they gave that they thought we would never notice.

  The smell of the various powders, perfumes, and other scents that invaded our nostrils. If I never smelled latex in my life again, it wouldn’t be a moment too late.

  And how that damn bus never seemed to show up on time.

  I swore if I ever became a politician, the first thing I was doing was improving the timeliness of public transportation in this city.

  “You think the bus is going to be late again?”

  Wouldn’t that be something—to be so close to freedom, only for the bus driver’s lateness to cost us our lives.

  It really would be the other shoe dropping in that case.

  Well, at least no one pulled out a gun at Derek or me when I walked home.

  Crystal sighed, shaking her head and glanced around. Shit.

  I should have told Derek to rescue her too. Because when I’m gone, she’s gone one way or the other. I can’t leave her…

  We’ll worry about that when the guns start blazing.

  “The driver better hope he’s not. I have no problem taking it out on his ass if he makes me late.”

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to piss off the bus driver?” I said. “I mean, that could lead to trouble, right?”

  This was something else I was, oddly detached, noticing—my conversations with Crystal.

  Our talks would shift between the oddly intellectual and the downright crude, but I sometimes wondered how skewed my ideas of intellectual and crude had become. I wondered what it meant that talks with Crystal about effective marketing as a whore—even though she never called it as such—felt like the sort of stimulating conversation I would hope for if we talked.

  There was a reason I held on to my phone for reading whenever I could—and it wasn’t because I had a bunch of people to text Internet speak with.

  “What? Like the sort of trouble that Rock or the Falcons can bring?” she said.

  I blushed at that. It felt like a jinx, like she was saying our enemy’s name just before going to our final battle, or like distracting a writer when they were in the zone—you just didn’t do that!

  But, then again, she didn’t have an idea of what was about to go down.

  “No, I suppose not that kind of trouble. But, still, trouble is trouble.”

  “Y’know what? Maybe we need a little trouble in our lives, right?” she winked. “Keep things interesting.”

  I smiled at that to be polite, but I wanted everything to go as trouble-free as possible. I would blow a dozen Johns a night than get few but have drama or trouble with Rock. If I just made it a couple more days… I never had to worry about this shit ever again.

  Interesting? No, this wasn’t interesting. Interesting was exploring the library with Derek. Interesting was getting to know his town. Interesting was the prospect of exploring Europe with him.

  This wasn’t interesting. I wanted plain, boring, and straightforward—in the relative sense, of course.

  I glanced over just in time to see the bus coming around the corner. I had never felt such relief as when I saw that bus driver—it told me that so far, this night was not going to suck any worse than it normally would. Normally being the key word there.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, I glanced down at my
phone, seeing that the bus at least wasn’t running too far behind. Just a minute or so. With any luck, the driver would just maniac-drive the next few stops to get back on schedule. And even if he didn’t, it just meant that we would have to walk fast—and even then, we’d still have a couple minutes to spare.

  “And the driver lives to see another day,” Crystal said with a mischievous grin.

  I laughed at that, shaking my head. I’ll be saying the same thing each night I make it to my bed without more bruises or a bullet.

  “Well,” I said, “he should consider himself fortunate then, right?”

  “Damn straight!” she said. “Fuckin’ A! Asshole making me wait like this, don’t he know I got places to be and people to blow?”

  Oh, Crystal, I just thought. I wonder what you’re like when you don’t have to wear a mask to protect yourself from this lie.

  As the bus pulled up in front of us, we moved together to get on. I looked around, seeing multiple people staring at us. While I was getting used to the stares, there still was a part of me that felt worried about the gazes. I didn’t like feeling so naked in front of these people.

  But, I supposed, that was the job I was in, wasn’t it? And if I wanted things to be normal, then this was exactly what we needed to have happen, right?

  Right…

  I sighed as we took our seats towards the back and I looked out the window, seeing a streak of lightning flash through the night sky.

  “Greeeat, just great” Crystal sighed. “I hate getting wet!”

  I chuckled at the word choice. I’m not sure Crystal got it, but I didn’t elaborate for her, knowing it would just draw even more glares when Crystal’s words carried through the bus.

  “Let’s just hope it doesn’t keep the Johns away,” Crystal said with a sigh.

  Indeed.

  Sounds weird, but Johns, come on down so we can go down and have you come.

  I frowned, looking out the window as it began to downpour and I chewed my lip.

  “It’s pretty heavy,” I said, sighing and remembering other nights when weather like this had meant almost zero Johns. And we both knew Rock well enough to know that he would not accept that as an excuse—hell, he had the good mind to blame us for hurricanes and blizzards half the time, saying if he had better whores, he’d have better luck.

  Or something stupid like that. It didn’t make a ton of sense. But what did in this life?

  I watched as we closed in on our stop and bit my lip. For all of the thoughts beforehand about how I just wanted this to go normally and I was willing to roll with the punches, I’d entirely changed my mind. I didn’t want to deal with Johns and assholes and cash tonight.

  I just wanted to deal with Derek—and “deal with” him in a very different way.

  Images of Derek began to run through my mind. Thoughts of our time together were what got me by. I moved my hand to my necklace, running my finger over the ruby pendant. I closed my eyes, enjoying the peace that the necklace brought me. With my eyes closed, I thought of Derek’s bird, peace, and love.

  Then, I opened my eyes, and I saw ugly, heavy rain and a dank, horrible street corner.

  I lived in two different worlds.

  No, I lived in two different realms—heaven and hell. And to say either one did not feel like an exaggeration in any sense of the words.

  “You ready?” Crystal sighed.

  I groaned and shrugged. I was never really ready. What woman would ever be ready to be a whore? I went through more men in a week than most women did in a lifetime—and there was nothing about that that was a brag or a boast. If anything, it was something I had trouble admitting to myself, let alone anyone else.

  “Like we have a choice, right?”

  Crystal offered an obviously forced smile and a pat on my shoulder. It was appreciated, but since it wasn’t a “no,” it didn’t do much to help.

  Shortly after getting off the bus, after getting ourselves good and soaked—but, admittedly, rather sexy as a result… although that wasn’t something I felt especially proud of—the rain decided to give up its aggression and downgraded to a drizzle.

  Crystal and I shared a look that said “figures,” then had a laugh at our own expense. And while the fact that there was still any rain meant that I couldn’t use my phone to read, it also meant that we were, justifiably, not being swarmed in Johns.

  All things considered it seemed to be shaping up to be a somewhat laid back night. Maybe… maybe things would go fine.

  And then a car pulled up. Well, that’s what I get for pushing my luck.

  I watched as the passenger window opened. I had to consciously tell myself not to react.

  It was the man who had left me all but dead, the man I had bribed not to tell Rock. It was him, and he’d come back for the remainder of my debt.

  Oh no.

  He smirked and leaned further over, propping the door open and nodded my way.

  “Get in,” he ordered with an oily smirk.

  There was not a single aspect of this that in any way felt safe, sane, or normal. But he almost certainly carried a gun, and if I didn’t obey, he’d just kill me.

  The only thing that saved me even a little bit was that Rock didn’t want his cronies using us during “working hours”—something about how he didn’t need money being cycled within the club without coming from the outside—but that was only salvation if Rock needed to call the man away. If I went and told on the man, my word against his was never going to last two sentences, let alone an entire argument’s worth.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the late whore,” he said. “You actually showed up on time today. Tell me, whore, what are you for me tonight? Hmm? Surely you’re smart enough to know what you are for me tonight.”

  It only dawned on me now that there were two ways this played out, neither of which would bode well for my future. Either this guy killed me after fucking me… or he fucked me and let me go, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pay me. And when I had to explain to Rock why half the evening had gone without making any money…

  That’s it. I’ll be dead.

  “Whatever you want me to be,” I responded, somehow keeping my sales charm intact despite all the warning alarms. “I’m yours.”

  “Damn right, you fucking bitch,” he said. “And because of that, you’re going to keep your mouth shut on what happens between you and me. You got it?”

  It was sick to say, but I was almost used to rape by now. Rock had done it plenty of times, his clubsters had done it plenty of times, and I had learned how to tune it out.

  But whether because I’d just spent an afternoon with Derek or because this guy was particularly disturbing, I felt my core shake in a way that it had not since I had first met Rock in that room, the moment I had realized Chuck had sold me out.

  More and more, even though it was my life or my death to do whatever this guy wanted, I was finding myself hating the idea of being rubbed any way by this guy…

  This guy or any other…

  Keep it together, Eve! Survival is how we fight! Survival… is how we fight!

  I faked a smile his way once again.

  “The quiet and submissive type, I see,” he said.

  He ran his fingers over my chin gently, as if caressing me.

  And then, without warning, he slapped me. All I could say was thank God the slap did not pull back far—I’d felt far worse.

  Not that he needs to know that, I thought as I bit my lip, trying not to show any fear or emotion.

  “Good girl,” he said. “You stay this way and do whatever I want and I’ll make sure Rock never hears a word of this.”

  I didn’t believe a goddamn word of that. But I still had no choice.

  “We can start by you staying goddamn quiet,” he said. “We’re going someplace more private than this.”

  He put the car in drive, and I had a terrible feeling I was about to be murdered. I kicked myself for just not spending the night at Derek’s—Crysta
l would have the good sense to get herself to safety if she saw things going to hell. I guess good on me for keeping her in mind, but it may now have just cost me my life.

  I’m sorry, Derek. I’m sorry.

  I love you.

  I do. You showed me life could be good again. You showed me I deserved hope and salvation.

  If I get out of this spot, I’m not going to hold back from telling you how I feel.

  By some merciful fortune, the drive did not seem that long, maybe six, seven minutes tops. And, by even more good fortune, it wasn’t a tremendous distance from Derek’s place, although it was wishful thinking to expect that I could get to him—he did have a key to his place in the elevator, after all. I wasn’t Spider-Woman, I couldn’t just climb up the apartment to him.

  We had come to a sketchy motel. The world was a blur of weirdness and unease as he led me in, paid in cash for a room, and then dragged me to it. Along the way, I tried to catch the eye of the man working the front desk, but he seemed to deliberately avoid my gaze, as if doing so might absolve him of anything if something bad happened to me. Coward.

  “Strip for me,” he said before the door to the room was even closed.

  It clicked shut—there was just something heavy and finalizing in that sound—and he moved to sit on the bed, unslinging a bag that had been hanging on his shoulder that I was only now just noticing. I heard a lot of metal clanging and other heavy-sounding objects hitting the ground.

  It didn’t sound like a gun, and I doubt he would’ve let a gun just hit the ground, even within a bag. But there was more than one way to die.

  “I said strip!” he commanded.

  The bag and its potential contents scared me, but the idea of not doing as he said and giving him a reason to focus on it rather than me scared me more. All it took was one phone call to Rock and I was just counting down the minutes to my execution.

  With as fake a smile as I could muster, I did as he said. I stood in front of him and began to strip. I was in sales mode—autopilot—and I was surprised and disgusted at how simple it was to just go through the motions.

  Once I was naked, I watched as he stood and stepped over to me, smirking his oily smirk down at me as his hands went to my breasts. I gasped at the cold, slimy feel of his hands, but managed to pass off the sound as a moan. Seeming satisfied that he’d done something right, his smirk grew to an oil-spill smile.