Savage Saviors: The Complete Boxset (Savage Saviors MC)

by J. C. Allen

  She had spent brunch with Roost… and then disappeared, only to show up with a bottle of whiskey? What did that say about her level of trustworthiness? What did that say about all of the things she had said to me?

  Fuck, what did that say about Chuck? That someone could make him look like a truthful, honest guy?

  Jesus fucking Christ!

  Why… why the fuck did it come to this. Why—

  “Hey!”

  I shook out of my thoughts as Roost snapped his fingers just mere inches from my head.

  “Ya lied to me bout yer girl, and I don’t give a fuck. That’s yer business, however ya deal with it. I got yer back. But I need yer mind here for this Falcon shit.”

  He was right.

  At least I had Roost.

  In hard times, in easy times, in all the times, I had Roost. Thank God you didn’t die. If you had and I’d unconvered this, I might really go six feet under that night.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Look, I like Eve, but I like ya more, even if ya are a bit of a bitch,” Roost said, squeezing my shoulder. “But we gotta figure out what we gonna do with Falcon.”

  “Same thing as always,” I said. “Hunt him and kill him.”

  Roost sighed.

  “OK, yer mind is a bit fucked, I can tell. I’m here whenever ya wanna talk ‘bout it, but for now, ya should head home.”

  I recoiled in stunned disbelief at what Roost had just done.

  He’d only done this to me within the month of Maggie’s death; otherwise, he had let me work through depression, drunken episodes, mood swings, and just about everything else that I’d ever encountered.

  But for him to do this today?

  “Seriously?” I said.

  “Yer not gonna do yer job if yer mind is stuck on her,” he said. “I’ll hold down the fort. We ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

  I felt like the good student who had just gotten berated by their favorite teacher for having one bad day of class. I felt like my own best friend thought I didn’t have any self-control. I felt… I felt weak.

  For that reason alone, it was probably worth going home. A weak man could not lead a strong club.

  But that didn’t mean I didn’t feel like shit because of it.

  “Alright,” I said.

  I suddenly found myself craving a drink really, really badly.

  I got on my bike without acknowledging a single member of the club, refusing to show my face in such a weak place. I felt a blinding amount of rage, yes, but just underneath that rage was a deep, deep, sorrowful level of shame that I had not lived up to the standards I expected out of my own team, let alone the standards I had for myself. If I could not even clear the lowest bar to be in this club, why should I have the right to face any of them.

  My ride on the bike home reflected my state of being—I moved weakly, passively, and with barely any regard for speed on that ride. I was not the suicidal maniac I usually was, but the pendulum had swung to the other side. Now, it took me forever to get the bike going at green lights, I accelerated so slowly that I must have looked high, and I took turns almost as much with my feet touching the street as I did by leaning into them.

  I looked like a rookie on my bike. But sadly, I was a veteran at being depressed.

  It always turned out this way, didn’t it? It always ended in heartbreak. Maggie had died. My family had died. Eve had lied to me to survive.

  It was sickening—just purely sickening—how well Chuck’s words spoke to me now. I had defended her as a good girl caught in a bad situation, one desperate to escape. I had defended her as the girl I loved.

  But now? The high class comment… the various gifts which she could not have afforded on her own… the various acts of disappearance…

  Have you ever thought that maybe you’re just an insecure little prick? That maybe she has a life outside of you that she wants to develop? Did you ever think that you’re just an arrogant hothead who demands to control her?

  Maybe. But what do the photos say?

  … fuck.

  When I parked my bike at my apartment, I gave a half-hearted wave to Clarence, not wanting to drag a random stranger into my melancholy. I rode the elevator up in silence, nearly kicking the side of the elevator at one point before deciding I valued a whole foot more than a broken one. The doors opened, and I sauntered in.

  I collapsed into a kitchen chair, knowing what I had to do.

  I had to…

  I needed to…

  I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Something about this just didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel complete, the thoughts in my head. It felt like something was missing that would explain Eve’s actions in a way that didn’t show her as a lying, conniving whore.

  But…

  Logic was a real bitch.

  My head started to ache, a brutal combination of the recent head trauma and the much more recent mind-fuck that Chuck had had the courtesy to introduce me to. I just couldn’t take it. I…

  I needed a drink.

  I looked up and saw the bottle of whiskey Eve had bought me earlier.

  “Eve,” I said loudly.

  She wasn’t in the apartment. Good. More chances for me to drink.

  I grabbed the bottle, went to find a shot glass, had difficulty finding one, and muttered, “Fuck it.”

  I began drinking straight from the bottle.

  Maybe it would give me the courage I needed to break up with Even.

  28

  Eve

  In my sadness with Derek, I chose to call Tara and meet her for food and drink. I wasn’t in the mood to do a whole lot of anything, but I knew staying by myself was the worst thing that I could have done. Except, well, for maybe chasing Derek when he clearly didn’t want to be around me.

  Tara met me at a sports bar near Roost’s house, which, with the lack of sports going on, was relatively unpopulated. It was exactly what I needed, but I can’t say that I remember much from the conversation.

  Well, that’s not quite true. At one point, she said, “Oral sex is the best medicine for any relationship blues,” causing me to spit up my drink in laughter, but I just couldn’t fathom that working. Our fight—if you could even call it that—wasn’t one of intensity, fire, and passion that could have led to an extraordinary time in the bedroom. It was just…

  Derek just seemed to suddenly lose interest.

  And the worst part was, I really didn’t have a great idea why. I suspected Chuck might have played a role in some way, but to the point that Derek had completely and utterly gone silent on me? There was just no way.

  The hours drifted by with barely any excitement on my part—that was a state of being I could not reach with the way things were. I just let the hours slip by, barely holding onto them, preferring to let Tara do all the talking. It was a damn good thing she could have a conversation with herself, because she got an awful lot of practice doing so.

  Once we had finished our dinner and Tara said something about arranging her new ring in the city, I decided it was time to head home.

  Home, where Derek would be waiting.

  Home. If you can even call it that. Not like you’re putting up anything to the bill, Eve.

  It’s not home. It’s the place you sleep. Big difference.

  Tara offered me a ride home, courtesy of one Matty Roost Rose, but I declined. I’d already pushed Matty away once, and I didn’t want to face him again. I didn’t want to face anyone, really.

  Not with the way depression was destroying and raping my mind, taking everything I loved and cherished and calling it fake and non-existent.

  I called an Uber, barely noticed the dark skyline driving by, and got out of the vehicle. I moved slowly to the elevator, pausing just before I hit call.

  “Just smile and ask what’s going on,” I said out loud. “Listen to him. Listen. And be honest.”

  I can only pray that’s good enough, I thought as the elevator doors opened.

  I can only pray that doesn�
��t get me thrown out, I thought as the elevator rose.

  I can only pray that everything I had wasn’t a lie, I thought as the elevator doors opened to Derek’s apartment.

  I was startled at how dark the apartment was. Stepping through, I moved my hand to the wall, finding the switch and flipped it on. The bright fluorescents assaulted my eyes and I had to blink a few times before finally adjusting to the new lit room.

  I glanced over, seeing Derek sitting at the dining room table, a large near-empty bottle of whiskey standing beside him.

  The bottle of whiskey I bought him.

  Oh my God, Derek… what happened…

  “Derek?” I whispered, not wanting to startle him.

  He didn’t even look my way. Was he passed out? Was he… was he unconscious? Did I need to call the hospital again?

  What did I do?

  Growing more concerned, I moved towards him, wanting to make sure he was alright.

  That’s when he looked at me.

  His eyes were much colder than they ever had been. He looked like he had been seconds away from passing out in a drunken fury. I froze in the middle of the room, terrified at the look he gave me.

  “Where were you?” he asked, his voice just as cold as his expression.

  “I… I was with Tara,” I stammered.

  “No,” he growled. “I mean, where were you all those times you said you were out?”

  My eyes widened at that, and I realized with dawning horror that he must have thought I was cheating on him. I had no idea how he got to that, but the anger in his eyes told me it would not go by so easily, even if the idea was absurd—I loved him!

  “I…” I fought to find the words, wanting desperately to make things right but feeling paralyzed by his voice and his eyes.

  “So I’ll ask again, Eve:” he whispered menacingly. “Where were you?”

  “I was, I was probably with Tara or Matty,” I said, stunned. “Why are you so mad? You… the way you just left me this morning. The way you’ve been the past couple of days. I just had to… I feel so alone, Derek.”

  “You and me both,” he grumbled, looking away.

  I frowned at that, feeling wounded by those words.

  “You left me here,” I said. “Why should it matter if I left, too?”

  “Because you know I have no one else to go to.”

  “And I have someone else to go to? Do you—”

  His eyes burned with fury, and I watched him wrestling with himself. He seemed to lose the battle, a part of him seeming to sink while another swelled. It was like he wanted to believe me, but a dangerously powerful part of him overrode that impulse.

  “Let’s not pretend that you didn’t make an entire career for some time out of having lots of ‘someones’ to go to, Eve. And that you still don’t.”

  I felt my breath snag in my throat. The inflection he’d put on his name felt painfully parallel to the one that Rock used to put on the word “whore” whenever he spoke to me or Tara. It felt designed to put me in my place, to remind me that I was worthless in comparison to the person before me.

  “And that you still don’t?”

  “And… and what’s that supposed to mean?” I said.

  In the back of my mind, I heard Chuck’s laughter.

  The threat of tears began to form in my eyes and I clenched them shut, refusing to cry right now. I didn’t want to be weak right now. I wanted to be strong—no, I had to be strong. For myself.

  For us.

  If… there was still an us.

  Which seemed to be falling apart by the second.

  He met Chuck… Chuck…

  Chuck fooled him. It’s the only way.

  “You’re smarter than that, Eve,” Derek said, folding his arms over his chest. “You and I both know that whores aren’t as stupid as everyone says.”

  The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. It was too strong of an attack for me to fight back at this point. Somehow, I avoided folding over in agony, and somehow, I kept the tears locked up behind my eyes.

  Barely.

  “Derek… what’s going on with you?” I pleaded. “Please, you can tell me.”

  “Why? So you can lie to me some more? So you can sneak around my back without getting caught? I’ve seen the photos, Eve.”

  What? What is he…

  “Photos?” I said, refusing to let the hurt that was eating away my insides show. “What the hell are you even talking about? I’m… I’m not out there on the streets! I hated that life! I was days away from killing myself!”

  “Under Rock, sure,” he growled. “Makes sense. But then, little did I realize, you secretly loved the lifestyle. I would have been fine with it if you’d told me the truth, Eve. I wouldn’t have loved it, but I would have tolerated it.”

  He stood up, but he moved sloppily, as if so drunk that he could barely stand on his own two feet. It was sickening that I almost went to help him despite his words to me—I guess my self-respect was so low that someone could call me a liar and a whore and I’d want to help them.

  Most especially a man who, now, was…

  Can’t even say what he is. Too weak.

  “But you lied,” he said, placing heavy emphasis on the last word. “Perhaps worst of all for you, though, you slipped. You asked me about being a high-class whore. You snuck out a few times too many. You tried to bribe me with these gifts, these trinkets, to make me think all was right.”

  “I did that because I love you!”

  “But I’ve seen the photos, Eve. The photos of you in your short skirt and white low-cut shirt, trying to say ‘hey, I’m a hooker, but I’m not a trashy hooker.’”

  That man on the bench.

  He took photos of me.

  Chuck.

  He took photos of me too. Had to have.

  Derek! You’re being conned!

  “Derek, I can explain, please—”

  “Hah!” he laughed, so violently that spittle came up and hit me on my face. “What’s there to explain, Eve Kellerman? You tricked me. You… you fooled me. You manipulated me. I got played. I’ll, I’ll own it. But you can’t fool me forever, Eve. No one does. I’m Derek Knight, and I know now that you’re nothing more than a fucking cu—”

  Some force overtook me. My hand came down hard enough on his face to stagger him to the ground. The sound echoed through the room and I realized too late that I was already crying. He stumbled back as he tried to rise out of his stupor, his eyes wide and awed.

  He looked horrified.

  “You know who fooled you? My brother. That’s who. I know you saw him a couple of days ago, Derek!”

  Tears were coming out of my face like a waterfall. I wasn’t doing anything to stop them. If I tried, I would’ve only made it worse—and there was no way that I would have had the presence to even try to stop them.

  “But I gave you space, because I knew how much he had hurt you. I’ve lived with him my entire life and know how much he says can burn. Whoever said words can’t hurt has lived a spoiled life. But I thought you’d know better! I thought you’d realize that Chuck was working for the Black Falcons and fucking with you! I thought…”

  I let out a loud sob as my face puffed up and my crying turned into near hysteria.

  “I thought you loved me.”

  “Eve…”

  I missed the rest. I couldn’t bear the thought that he had never loved me. I couldn’t bear the thought that when it came down to me and my brother, he had chosen Chuck. I couldn’t bear the thought that the last two weeks, seemingly the source of endless joy and reward, had been nothing more than a lie.

  And so, I ran.

  29

  Derek

  My face still stung where Eve had hit me. Even after a few hours of spinning around in circles, it still stung. I figured I deserved the reminder.

  She might have been a manipulative whore, but…

  I sure as hell didn’t need to do that.

  I needed to be a man! I needed to b
e honest and have a productive conversation with her.

  And now look at me. A disgrace. Kicked out of my own club for the day. Self-destructive to my own relationship.

  And fooled by a woman I thought loved me.

  I sighed, slapped myself again. This time just as much for the thought as for the reminder. Even after all that had happened…

  I still couldn’t bring myself to think of her that way.

  Not that she had any reason to know that. Not that she would ever believe me after the vitriolic onslaught of the truth… yeah, the truth, after that came at her.

  And what did Eve do under that onslaught? She knocked me flat on my ass. And then she’d left.

  Like she ought to.

  Because if this is how you’re going to act, then you don’t deserve to ever see her again.

  I slapped myself again.

  I looked at my motorcycle keys on my desk. It was beyond foolish to drive for as much whiskey as I had taken in—enough to kill a smaller man.

  But since when did I ever stop at one bad decision?

  I stumbled up, burping as I did, the belch nearly turning into a vomit, and snared the keys. They dropped to the floor once before I grabbed them again. I nearly tripped on myself getting to the elevator before I pressed the down button. When I got inside, I sat—yes, sat—in the corner as it rode down.

  This is really dumb.

  Really, really dumb.

  But then again, so was acting like a giant asshole to Eve.

  Then again, so was being so emotionally distracted Roost sent you home.

  What’s the point in stopping now, shithead?

  When I got to my chopper, I stared at it for a long time—not because I was debating whether to stop, heavens, no.

  It’s because I saw all the damage I had done to it on my last stupid ride, the scars and the rusting that had started.

  So symbolic! It’s like a perfect representation of… of you, Derek Knight.

  Fuck it! Let’s go! Now!

  I gunned the engine, and my chopper carried me away. I couldn’t say for certain where I was going. I’d traveled this particular stretch of road close to a dozen times already in the past. But given that everything couldn’t stay still and the entire world seemed determined to wobble under my gaze, it might as well have been like driving during a literal city-shattering earthquake.