Savage Saviors: The Complete Boxset (Savage Saviors MC)

by J. C. Allen

  “INCOMING!”

  I wasn’t sure which of the ex-Marines had made the call, but I knew it was Bones who got a hold of my jacket and pulled me out of the line of fire.

  A series of silenced gunshots began firing a short distance away.

  “Fuck!” I yelled.

  I looked down and realized I’d… I’d actually been hit.

  “Stay down,” Bones yelled. “You weren’t hit in an artery but you will be if you get involved!”

  Say no more, Bones.

  To the right of where we’d been standing, three men had begun to take fire. My eyes widened at the sight and I looked to the other three. More shots began to fire, not all of them silenced this time, and I watched as the three returned fire. I hadn’t had a chance to see them even retrieve the small automatics that had been tethered at their backs, but in an instant of near-synchronized perfection they were armed and ready.

  Fuck yes. Let’s go!

  The bursts of fire came in tight, practiced groupings—the clusters of Brr-brr-brrap! Brr-brr-brrap! exploding out in counts of three followed by a one-count before starting over again—and found their targets before I’d even managed to spot one. The Marines yelled at each other, telling each other to take cover, to fire, giving various o’clock positions, and other commands that only someone who had served could possibly know.

  I may not have served, and I may have been wounded… but I hated lying here all helpless. It was no wonder to me now, then, that Eve had shot Tyler and helped me at the Black Falcons party—there was nothing worse than having an ongoing fight and playing absolutely no role in the madness. I felt as useless as a rag doll—which wasn’t true, I felt worse. At least the Marines knew a rag doll would never be capable of firing, but I probably looked pathetic here.

  I couldn’t fucking take it.

  Despite not knowing where to even begin shooting, I hurried to draw my own nine-millimeter, sat up, and began surveying the area for anybody that the three hadn’t already shot down. On two occasions, I’d started to get a bead on one of the firing Falcons, only to have them stagger back and fall under a fresh burst from one of the three Marines.

  I was about to resign to not getting a single shot off when I spotted a dark mass, ducked low and sprinting on wobbly legs, as it worked its way to the other side of the room for a different vantage point. Noticing that the three’s fire was still focused ahead of us, I took the initiative and fired after the asshole—tailing him with three rounds before finally planting the fourth into his left temple.

  The thud of his body seemed to cue another Black Falcons member who’d been hiding behind a stack of discarded filing cabinets to make an appearance. I put a round between his eyes and, more feeling than seeing the three sets of eyes from my Saviors appraising me with sincere admiration, I smirked, glad that I had taken Roost up on target practice the other day. I also couldn’t begin to express how happy I was to feel actually useful in a battle and not have to rely on Marines or my girlfriend to save my ass.

  I watched with growing relief as the last few Falcons were dealt with by the Marines. I stayed crouched as I glanced around the room, wanting to make sure there were no others hiding. A few more Brr-brr-brrap!s later, and everything fell once more into silence.

  We had won.

  The only regret was we wouldn’t have anyone left to interrogate, but given this was where the Falcons were going to wind up, anyways, I didn’t feel upset at all. I was happy to have given a middle finger back to Falcon with more lost men for what he’d done to two of my men—whom I hadn’t even had the chance to identify.

  “We clear?” I asked.

  “All clear,” Bones said as he moved out of his hiding area.

  With the threat taken care of, I slid out as well and winced as I moved my gun back into the holster at my chest. I had completely forgotten I’d been shot—I guess adrenaline really did have a hell of a kick that I couldn’t have anticipated.

  But while it may not have been life-threatening, as I glanced down, I saw the growing moisture forming through my leather jacket.

  Well, shit!

  That couldn’t be good.

  I blinked a bit, wondering when the room had begun to spin.

  Had it ever notbeen spinning?

  “Boss?” a distant voice called out to me. “Hey, boss, you—”

  I wanted to say something somewhere in the vicinity of bold or brave. I wanted to be calm, cool, and collected. I wanted to express solidly a need for medical attention—discreet, prompt, and affective medical attention—and to do so in a way that would inspire confidence and pride from these three Marines

  I wanted to say all of those things.

  What I heard myself say, however, was, “Fuuccckkkk…”

  The last thing that I remember was seeing Bones hover over me, placing his hands on my hips, and then passing out.

  8

  Eve

  I thought for sure that having spent the day with Derek, having let him sleep in, and having had the conversation with him would have made things easier.

  How wrong I was.

  Maybe I was just being too harsh on myself. Maybe I had known tonight would be just as hard as the last night, even if I knew that he had backup like he didn’t have yesterday. Maybe I had known that I’d be stressing like this.

  Either way, it didn’t make things any easier. I was pacing in the apartment, waiting for him to come back, begging for him to come back.

  He’d left at about 9 p.m., which was way earlier than the night before. I guess that would have meant he’d be coming home earlier, but right now, it just left me hoping he could come back.

  I needed to find an easier way to be alone. There were going to be many more nights like this, and it just wasn’t going to get any easier. Unless Derek had some fetish for a woman with gray hair, lots of wrinkles, and weight gained all before the age of twenty-five, then I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it either. He was too sweet to say otherwise, but the prostitution business showed me men could change awfully quick with a bad makeover.

  Part of me thought of going out there, but that seemed downright suicidal. Besides, what good would it to do yell at Derek for being a lone wolf when I would be doing the exact same thing by openly defying such orders? Roost hadn’t had a bad word with me yet, but he would if I did that.

  Although I had to imagine that at some point, my self-defense training would get put to use. Yeah, self-defense, Eve. Not others-offense. Keep to yourself.

  I tried meditating in bed, but that lasted a laughably short time. The idea of “calming yourself” and “letting your thoughts pass by without judgment” just led to a hell of a lot of dark thoughts having control of my mind. In some ways, I think it made things worse in comparison to what they were.

  I tried to look out from the window and imagine where my Derek Knight was, but, yeah, that didn’t work.

  I ordered pizza—again; this was becoming a bit of a problem—and got ice cream and started watching some Netflix, and that actually worked for a little bit thanks to the novelty of a new show about vampires and some comedy that followed. It was a well done show, but after the first episode ended, I found myself once again wandering in my head.

  I needed someone to talk to. I needed someone to vent to.

  I picked up my phone and called Tara. It rang once… twice… three times…

  “Hey, hey!”

  I sighed. I already knew it was her voicemail.

  “You know who you called. Leave a—”

  I hung up before I had to. I let the phone fall in my hand. And then…

  I dialed another number. I had no idea if I’d get an answer, or even a good answer if I got one, but I had to try. If nothing else, hearing another human voice would help some.

  “Eve, girlie, whatcha doin’?” Matty said, his voice forcefully calm—likely because he had to focus on the mission at hand.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said, trying to pretend to be fine. “OK, no, I
’m not, Matty. If you got work to do, just say the word and I’ll hang up and let you get back, but I’m so scared for Derek. I just… I know he’s got backup and all that, but this is getting serious now, isn’t it? Like, shouldn’t we have men besides Derek out there? I’m sorry, I don’t mean—”

  “Don’t ya apologize for anything, girl,” Matty said. “Yer the one who got Derek out of his funk. Ya got a lot of leeway, but I ain’t even think of it like that. I just like ya. So ya got nothin’ ya need to worry about. Do ya just need to talk?”

  “That would help, if you’re not busy.”

  “Nah,” Matty said. “I may get another call from Derek or one of the other boys out on patrol, and if so, I gotsta bounce off, but I’m happy to speak with ya ‘till I ain’t able to.”

  “OK,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Well, actually, Matty, I know I’m asking a lot, but can you come here? I’d just… I know, I’m a basket case right now and it’s so ridiculous.”

  “Girlie, what did I just say?” Matty said with a laugh. “Ya ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout! Ya want yer big gay bear friend to come have a sleepover?”

  “Yes.”

  The tone of my voice was in stark contrast to the seemingly half-cheerful mood Matty presented. I wasn’t sure if he just didn’t have much worries or if he was trying to make me feel better, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it didn’t much matter. I was going to feel like a mess unless I got to speak to someone as if they were my therapist, and since Tara wasn’t answering her phone, Matty it was.

  And anyways, I had a feeling Matty could better sympathize than Tara could.

  “Be there in twenty, mmk?”

  “Thanks, Matty.”

  “Ya got it,” he said, hanging up right after.

  I felt some relief as I went back to munching on pizzas, but then I felt a new wave of guilt come on. I had pulled Matty away from the mission… and sure, he’d have his phone with him, maybe his laptop; he’d certainly come armed with whatever he needed to protect us.

  But what was more important, my emotional state of being or Matty being able to coordinate the mission?

  I shook my head in disbelief at how selfish I had been. Pulling Matty away… it was like asking Derek to get me McDonald’s right when he had a lead on Falcon. Too stupid, too selfish, too diva.

  I went to my recent dials list and called Matty. It rang once… twice… three times… four times… five times…

  “Ya reached Roost, ya know what to do.”

  I hung up.

  He was already on his bike. That was the only way he wasn’t noticing his phone. On a night like this, he’d be glued to it otherwise.

  You’re the best gay friend a girl could ever have, Matty. I don’t deserve to have you. I owe you in so many ways.

  It was made all the better when I heard the elevator whirling up about ten minutes later, indicating that Matty had come over in seemingly record time to take care of me. As soon as the elevator doors opened and he stepped through, I greeted him with a massive hug. I couldn’t even get around his sides, but the intent was received in full.

  “It’s OK, girlie, it’s OK,” he said, cupping my head in his hand as I leaned into his belly. “Yer in good hands now. A little fatter hands than Derek, but good hands all the same.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, still feeling guilty about pulling him away. In fact, when I looked up at him, I pulled back, said, “sorry,” and turned away, ashamed of what I had done.

  “Eve?”

  “I shouldn’t have asked you to come,” I said, tears forming down my cheeks. “I was weak. I selfishly asked you to come while the Saviors were out on a mission, and… and…”

  “And it’s OK,” Matty said with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Ya see, I’m here because I can be. All respect, Eve, but if the mission required me to be at the shop, I would be. But I ain’t, cuz I don’t need to be.”

  He motioned for the table and had me sit down. He went to Derek’s fridge, mumbling something about how “boy owes me a drink, anyway” and poured us some wine. He sat down with the glass, held it out, and cheered me.

  “Are you sure you’re OK being here?” I said, still uncertain how what I had done was OK.

  “Absolutely,” Matty said, pulling out his phone. “This right here? This is all I need to run shop. Boys will report in, and then I’ll make notes in my phone. Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen where I need anythin’ else.”

  “No laptop?”

  “I ain’t one of them programmin’ dorks,” Matty said with a laugh. “Look at me! My hands barely be able to reach the computer!”

  He laughed some more, seemingly for effect to get me to smile. Good news for him—it worked. Just a little, but enough.

  “Nah, Eve, I promise ya yer OK.”

  “OK,” I said with a grateful smile. “I just… I don’t want this to happen again, you know? Like tonight works, fine. But what happens when you and Derek go out? And Tara’s off doing Tara things? What then? How… how do I become strong, Matty?”

  “Hmm,” he said, scratching his chin. “Million dollar question right there, Eve.”

  He sat in silence for several moments, seeming to give the question serious contemplation. It was a question on which my future alone moments hinged, which seemed cruel to myself—I’d fought so hard to get alone, to get away from the life of constant surveillance, and now that I had it…

  “I can only tell ya how I got it, and then hopefully it’ll have something for ya in there,” he said. “Back before Derek was nothin’ more than a twinkle in his momma’s eye, I worked for his papa. Dominick Knight, though most of us just called him sir, half out of respect, half because we knew he hated the formality of it.”

  It was kind of sweet seeing how much Matty glowed when talking about Derek’s father. It pained me to know that I would never get to see him and would only hear tales of him, but then again, I probably wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to meet Derek if his father and brother still lived. He’d be with his deceased wife, living the kind of life that Derek and I spoke about now.

  “Well, truth be told, when I joined, I was ‘bout your age. New, fresh, and not nearly as fat as I was now.”

  “But I bet you still ate like you do now?”

  “You kiddin’ me, sista? I ate more then! The blessin’ of youth is that I ain’t ever gotta stop eatin’! Now that damn indigestion slow me down!”

  I don’t know how Matty so easily got me to laugh, but he just did.

  “Anywho, I admired Dominick Knight. A true man. He did what he said he was gonna do and stuck by it. Now, to be clear, he ain’t ever go on any mission as dangerous as what we’re facin’, at least not until I had grown up, but when he’d go on these deliveries, dealin’ with criminals n’ such, I felt like you. I assumed the worst. If he got gunned down, who woulda took over?”

  He snorted.

  “Woulda been Falcon. How fucked is that? Anywho, for a good two years I was like this. Prayin’ to Gods I ain’t believe in and beggin for negotiatin’ his life. Then, one day, he came home early from a mission and noticed how much of a goddamn mess I was. Asked me how I felt, said I felt like shit.”

  He paused, almost seeming emotional. If I had not heard any of his words and only listened to his tone, it would’ve been obvious that Matty had so much respect for this Dominick Knight, Derek’s father, that he might even have seen him as a big brother.

  “Dominick pulled me aside, n’ he said, ‘Matthew Roost Rose, let me tell you something.’”

  It was so odd to hear him use a “normal” voice, or what passed for normal with his acting. I didn’t mind in the slightest, but it was just so jarring it was odd to hear.

  “’You got things you need to worry about, and that’s what you can control. If you can’t control it, you don’t worry about it. Understand?’ I nodded my head, but truth be told, I went on like that for another six damn months. But!”

  He held up a
finger with a big, shit-eating grin, as if confessing to some awesome crime he’d gotten away with.

  “The words lingered in me. I started to think ‘bout what that man meant. And ya know what I realized? I ain’t in control of a whole lotta shit. More than I care to admit, really. And while I ain’t gonna say I magically snapped my fingers one day and was all good, eventually, I could accept it.”

  “But what about for your loved ones?” I said.

  Matty gave me a look of confusion, as if he had already addressed just that, but then shut his mouth.

  “All the same,” he said with a strange weakness to his voice. “Eve, listen to me. What I just said ain’t gonna magically make ya life better. And it’s my vow to ya that as long as I can, I’ll be with ya when Derek goes runnin’ with his Marine buds. But if ya wanna be strong? Ya gotta choose to be strong. And ya do that by focusin’.”

  It wasn’t the first time I had heard such advice.

  But it was the first time I had heard it with such stakes as these, with Derek out on dangerous runs, with the war between the Falcons and Saviors drawing to a conclusion, and with Derek and me fighting to keep our love and our future alive.

  “Thanks, Matty,” I said.

  “Don’tcha go lyin’ to me and say ya found Jesus with these words,” he said with a laugh. “If ya need me, ya call me. I ain’t able to promise I’ll always come, but I am able to promise that I’ll be there if I can. So that’s how ya stay strong.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah. I get it.”

  I took a gulp of wine, feeling relieved—and even though I knew it was temporary, I would take temporary relief as best as I could right then.

  “Do you ever get stressed again?” I said. “Do you ever have moments where you think ‘I shouldn’t be stressed, but I am?’”

  “Hell yah,” Matty said. “Right now, in fact. But yer boy—”

  Just then, his phone rang.

  “Probably one of ‘em boys finished his scoutin’ and didn’t find nothin’. Ain’t a bad thing,” Matty said as he pulled out his phone and hit the answer button. “Hello?”