by Tiana Laveen
Written by Tiana Laveen
Edited by Natalie Owens
Cover Layout by Travis Pennington
BLURB
Maximus Savage is no ordinary man. His distinctive and dysfunctional upbringing was the catalyst to a wild life, one lived by his own rules. When his natural talent as a brilliant marksman and skilled fighter is discovered in the seedy underworld of Sin City, Maximus quickly makes his mark on the world, slash by bloody slash…
Dr. Zaire Ellington is a psychologist who runs a successful vlog and podcast from Los Angeles, California. A workaholic, she spends long hours doling out expert relationship advice to those in need of soothing and direction in their lives. Stressed and needing a weekend away, she and her girlfriends take a trip to the Las Vegas strip for fun and relaxation. The last thing she is looking for is a one-night stand, but when she spots Maximus rolling the dice, all bets are off…
The unlikely duo cross paths and become quickly entangled in each other’s lives, unravelling secrets, unlocking passions, and dangling the keys to survival and love…
Can a heartless top hitman with a penchant for violence find a way to emotionally accept and embrace the woman who has captivated him from the moment he laid eyes on her? And can an educated, classy lady look deeper into the black abyss known as Savage, and see the fervent, beating heart he’s tried to deny since the moment he drew his first breath?
Read, “Savage”, to find out!
COPYRIGHT
Did you buy this book? If not…
Where are you going with my booty?!
Copyright © 2019 by Tiana Laveen
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. PIRACY IS AGAINST THE LAW.
IN OTHER WORDS: If you do any of the above, the karma bus is waiting for you. If you steal this author’s work and illegally loan and/or share it, request illegal/free copies online and/or in printed version, you are no better than a burglar that breaks into someone’s house while you think they are away. You are a criminal. A thief. A cheat. You don’t work for free, so why should authors?!
WE WORK HARD. SHOW SOME APPRECIATION.
DEDICATION
“Savage” is dedicated to my amazing readers who love a damn good bad boy! The kind that isn’t beyond redemption, but is true to his core – f**kless, as they say. “Savage” is a book that has been on my mind for a minute, twirling around within my imagination, and now, it is finally here.
Thank you so much to my dedicated and beautiful fans, especially the ones who’ve ridden with me from day one, and ‘1-click’ my novels without a second thought because you know I work hard to bring you the best from me. I put my all into each and every one of my books and grow a little every time, in part due to your incredible support.
Enjoy!
This one is for YOU!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
About this Book
Copyright
Dedication
A Bit of Incorrect Country Grammar
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Music Directory
About the Author
Before we officially begin this tale, I have an announcement to make: A BIT OF INCORRECT COUNTRY GRAMMAR
ALERT: I said this in my previous two books, “Le Roi Du Sang” and “Gumbo” and I am now also saying it here. I know that the correct swear term is ‘Goddamn.’ I have always hated writing that word, although I have done so many times in the past, in order to keep things grammatically correct. However, going forward, please allow me to spell this wrong, for my own comfort. I am now using, ‘Gotdamn.’ I will repeat this statement in future books for the benefit of new readers, so no one reads it and thinks, ‘Well, that isn’t right!’ Reader, I know … but I am using creative license. We all have our triggers and pet peeves. I am not religious, but I am a spiritual being with important beliefs and this word has always rubbed me the wrong way. Therefore, it doesn’t sit well with me to keep writing it.
Thank you for understanding!
Tiana Laveen
“I was born to be a fucking killer. It’s in my soul, ensnared within my DNA from the core. I will die with the never-ending, all-consuming desire to hunt mankind—not the weak among us, but the feral fuckers, the rancid, no-good bastards on my soulless level who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. I’m the king of the Sin City jungle, the sharp, spiky top of the food chain, doing what I do best: Demolish the malevolent of our society.
You can’t be angry at a fox for being sly…
A wolf for leading a pack…
A lion for ripping an antelope to shreds…
It’s in their nature, and I don’t fight what I am.
I embrace it.
My mother always told me, ‘Maximus, be the best at whatever you do. If that’s being a janitor, then you mop those floors until they’re spotless. If it’s the CEO of a company, then you run that empire as if your life depends upon it.’
My mother was right.
I answer to my last name: Savage…
Because that’s what I am.
My father handed this name down to me, and he was just as deserving as me to have it.
From the moment I came out of a whore’s pussy, I knew who and what I was… and I was never apologetic or ashamed. I claimed it.
And now I’ve been unleashed upon the world like a plague with no cure.
No one I’ve sought to annihilate has escaped from my grasp and I guarantee you, no one ever will. My targets? By the time they see me, it’s too late.
I am their judge. Their jury. Their demons. Their karma. Their reaper.
I am the man who doesn’t give one single fuck about their pitiful pleas or pretentious prayers…
I am your wet dream and your worst nightmare.
CHAPTER ONE
Guns and Girls
“Money” by Pink Floyd blasted through the surround-sound speakers of the large house, situated in a cul-de-sac on Robin Drive in L.A.. Savage wrapped one ringed hand around the front of the graceful, slender neck attached to some hot babe. The beautiful specimen, a woman with long dark brown h
air, sported a detailed tattoo of a winding, bright red snake from her nape to the top of her plump, pale ass. She was bent over before him, serving wet, fat pussy lips around his groin as he thrust his cock inside her canal.
With each plunge into her addictive valley, his red and black striped satin robe flew open like bat wings, exposing his sweaty naked body covered in black tribal art he’d acquired from some of the best artists in the country over a ten-year span.
“Ahhh!” the woman groaned as she gripped a fistful of burgundy and black silky sheets. She cooed then bit hard into the fabric, screaming at the top of her lungs from each powerful, unforgiving dive. He went balls deep, and her loud moans and whimpers blended in with the beat of his favorite song, being an avid Pink Floyd fan. Even the people moving about outside seemed to go with the rhythm of the music.
Savage sped up his pace, fucking the woman all the harder as he continued to people watch through his tinted bedroom window. The creatures of the night, dressed in their sexiest swimsuits, and the men sporting jewelry and flashing keys to their cars, paraded around his pool enjoying themselves, many of them holding expensive mixed drinks served by his stable of bartenders. A few were passing joints amongst each other, as well as other drugs in pill form to take their partying to the next level. He glanced lazily at the various cameras hanging along a nearby wall, giving him a full view of the rest of the house and his surrounding property. Suddenly, a red light pulsed and glowed in the upper corner of his bedroom. It went bright then dull, bright then dull, repeating like a beacon.
Shit.
Someone had rung the bat signal.
He continued to thrust and pound within the beautiful creature before him as his eyes narrowed on the people who enjoyed the pool party on his dime. In quick fire succession, he assessed his surroundings—nothing looked out of place, but of course, there had to be something wrong. In a matter of seconds, the poor bastards began to scatter like ants dashing away from an oversized magnifying glass while Pink Floyd bellowed, ‘…Root of all evil…’
Pressing his chest into her back, he reached for his cigar that rested in a nearby ashtray and took a deep inhale. He fucked her faster, sweat trailing down his face and hairy chest, flowing over his tattoos like the lines on a map. Swirls of white smoke billowed out his lips and filled the air, drifting upward then disappearing into the atmosphere like hazy memories long forgotten.
“SAVAGE!!!” one of his property guards yelled into a speaker, his tone frantic. “There’s a break-in! We’ve got—FUCK!” The staticky message went abruptly dead, cut off like a decapitated head with a sharp machete.
Unfazed, he kept drawing on his cigar and ramming the woman before him as if jerking a pinball machine, trying to get that high score. He coolly glanced out at the pool area, now empty with the exception of one dead security guard floating on the top of the pool surrounded by crimson waters. The other dead man was a gun dealer lying on the concrete, the spinning disco lights reflecting on his face in swirling rainbow colors that changed with the beat of the song. An unfortunate causality, one that Savage would make the culprits regret.
“What’s going on?” the woman asked breathlessly, eyeing him from over her shoulder. Her glassy blue eyes sheened over, wrought with fear.
He ignored her, then regarded the cameras through narrowed eyes. With a grunt, he flooded the condom with quick-fire blasts of cum, and pushed the woman away, forcing her to fall headfirst on the bed. He couldn’t recall her name, so he bypassed addressing her altogether.
Snapping his fingers, he caught her attention. “Slide in here. Don’t make a sound until I come get you.” He pointed to a small room within the master suite where she quickly raced to, then locked her inside. Discarding the silk robe, letting it fall to the ground in a heap, he put on a pair of jeans he grabbed from a dresser drawer and pushed a white button. A door that looked like the entrance to a closet slid open to reveal his precious motherload. The display revolved, showcasing a host of assorted artillery, his heart’s desire.
While removing several firearms from their resting place, his adrenaline soared. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted several strange men making their way throughout his home via the cameras, crawling about like insects, invading his privacy and personal space. He gritted his teeth when he saw two more dead guards, one of whom he’d taken a bit of a liking to. With the sound of gunshots ringing out like 4th of July fireworks, he marched towards the front door of his bedroom. The moment he swung it open, two men approached at full speed, their guns blazing like lights from a million candles.
His bare feet smacked against the glossy wooden floors as he returned fire, shooting at rapid speed in their direction. He spit his cigar out on the floor as he popped one dead center in the middle of his head. The bastard fell over the railing, crashing down to the first floor. In swift succession, he shot another in the chest, over and over, and at last, he dropped to his knees and slumped over. He rushed to the guy and confiscated all of his weapons before moving in stealth mode along the wall and climbed down the stairs to meet the rest of his unwanted guests. Once he got to the first floor, he stooped low and checked out his surroundings.
Gunfire continued to ring out in all directions, accompanied by grunts, groans, and curses. Standing straight, he took several steps.
“Savage!” an unknown voice called out. “Don’t try anything stupid! Give up! You’re outnumbered!” A man dressed in army camouflage came into view holding an AK-15, aimed right in his direction. Savage glanced quickly at the ceiling, shot twice at a beam, then dropped to his knees when the man shot at him multiple times, crouched down, and cocked two of his weapons, one in each hand. Pieces of ceiling rained down in heavy chunks, cracking against the floor and hitting everyone in their path. A cloud of white and misty gray smoke wafted up as he shot the guns in every direction. Footsteps echoed and deafening screams ensued. His muscles burned with the effort, but he kept firing round after round, as long as he heard even the slightest whisper coming through. After a while, everything went quiet.
When the dust cleared, eight dead men surrounded him, all buried in a grave of ash, splattered blood and debris, their bodies riddled with bullets from his AK-47 and Desert Eagle. One had a knife sticking out the side of his neck. Savage stood and assessed his surroundings, the soles of his feet crunching on the jagged fragments of the house he cherished. He bent down over one of the bodies, pulled his knife out of the bastard’s throat, and made his way to Ivan, his favorite guard who stared lifelessly up at the ceiling, blood pooling from the sides of his gaping mouth. The guy had tried to call him when the chaos commenced. Going on one knee, he gently closed the fella’s eyes and shook his head.
“Damn it, Ivan,” he muttered, then climbed up the steps towards his bedroom. He could hear the whimpers of the woman he’d just fucked, still safe behind the locked door. After pressing in the code to make the door open, she screamed in horror, then relaxed when their eyes met. She shivered and held herself before running into his arms and holding him tight.
“What was all of that noise? What happened?!”
“Get your clothes on. It’s time for you to leave.” Several minutes later, he had her placed inside the back of a black Lincoln, her face streaked with mascara and her hair in disarray. She slumped forward, gazing listlessly down at the floor. After offering her a stiff drink and telling her a cockamamy story about a Hollywood movie being filmed in his domicile, he gave instructions to his driver to take her home. He went back inside and dialed a number as he leisurely stepped over several dead bodies.
“Austin, we had some party crashers. I need your guys to get over here and clean this shit up.”
“Damn it. How many arrived with cakes and wine for the merrymaking?”
“A dozen fuckin’ donuts, jelly filled and spilled just in time for the office party. Yup, twelve… Looks like my guards got rid of a few before I had even joined the festivities. These bastards took out Ivan, too. So, I’ll have to make sure to
give their handler a very fine thank you gift.”
“Fuck!” Ivan had been one of their best lookouts, a rare breed indeed. “Any survivors?”
“I’ve got one ready for a debrief. He’s a sitting duck. I put three slugs in him. One in the leg, two slugs in his chest, both of them framed around his heart, one on each side. Twins.” He chuckled as he negotiated around the wreckage to ensure the coast was clear.
“Sounds painful and drawn out. You’re an amazing sadist. That’s why I love ya!” The guy chuckled. “Anyway, I’ll send a crew over to clean up the afterparty. Longhorn must’ve arranged this shit. Son of uh bitch!” Savage shrugged as he went back upstairs and saw the bastard he’d shot in the chest a mere two centimeters from his heart, lying there panting hard like some dog in need of water. His eyes were glossed over and his lips twisted in pain. They looked at one another and the sheer terror in the fucker’s eyes almost made his dick hard. “This is payback no doubt. He’s still looking for me, Savage… and he wants you, too. That’s to get back at me, of course.”
“He’s always working, as are we.” He stifled a yawn. “If he went through all of this, that means he’s up to something… wants me out of the way. Anyway, I need to get the fuck outta here before the tardy for the party squad arrives with after-dinner refreshments once they realize half of their crew is growing stiff like boards. I’ll call you back when the smoke clears.” Savage ended the call, his chest heaving as he glared down at the piece of shit before him. “I’m going to ask you two questions and I want clear, concise answers. Number one: Where’s Longhorn? Number two: What’s he got planned?”
The guy grunted and rolled his eyes, blood oozing out of his wound, saturating the fabric of his taupe colored shirt.
“Fuck you…”
Savage dropped to his knees, placed his hand around the bastard’s neck and squeezed, released, then squeezed again, this time so hard, his arm shook as he sucked air, relishing in the agony he inflicted. The man’s legs flailed, dragging against the wooden floor. The oxygen to his lungs came to an abrupt stop and the evident pain he now endured as his windpipe took a bruising was certain to cause the fucker irreparable medical consequences once he let go.
