Savage

by Tiana Laveen

  “Oh, and I’m certain she’d heed your advice…” Sarcasm dripped all over Harlem’s words. “You’ve been tapping that ass of a perfect stranger, and think she is just going to walk away as if she didn’t see you put a bunch of holes in two men in a nano-second without blinking an eye. She has no loyalty to you to keep quiet. She’s probably been traumatized, and traumatized people, especially women, squeal.”

  “Not all the time. She doesn’t come across that way.”

  “Remember how I met my wife, Savage? She reported on an assailant and we had to put her in police protection. Sandy was a witness to a brutal crime, just like I told you back in ’06, but she was terrified… More afraid of the guy coming after her next, or sending one of his goons if she agreed to testify, than anything else. This woman of yours might fear the same. I have to send someone out to interview this lady. Immediately. We have to do damage control.”

  “I’m tellin’ you, I have this under control. You know I can read people well. And hell, out of all of us, my witness count is low. Roy shot up a crowd at a food festival with an AK-47 in the middle of downtown Chicago, so I dare anyone to try and sequester me about this.”

  “Please don’t remind me. That took months to clean up, get the press off the case. Look, regardless, you have to give me the complete rundown, Savage. We have to start a file on her as she could become a liability.”

  “If it’ll make you sleep better at night, fine.”

  “It will. No loose ends. I need her full name, date of birth, city and state, all of it. We have to run background information in our system, not the police files—the whole nine—and I need to put surveillance on her house for at least the next week or so.”

  Savage closed his eyes and listened to Harlem give out a long ass laundry list of just how complicated and ugly things could become. He’d been through this before, but never to this extent.

  Is it worth all of this? Maybe.

  He’d always been able to talk himself out of any situation. Besides, no one would ever believe him if he’d told them the truth about his unconventional occupation. They’d think him a liar or perhaps crazy. Or both. One by one, he answered the man’s questions, and each minute felt like an eternity.

  “I’ve already run a check on her. I did it early on,” Savage blurted, hoping that would stop the panic, but he was met with a pregnant pause.

  “Oh, really? Why?”

  Savage took a deep breath and sat up on his elbows.

  It was time to come clean. Not everything had been as it seemed.

  “Because I became a little paranoid.” He swallowed. “Zaire seemed too good to be true. She pretty much ticked all of my checkboxes: She’s successful, damaged, has her own business and interests. She’s beautiful, classy, intelligent, all of the shit I like… but she’s verbally aggressive at times and she doesn’t trust me completely. Yet.” He smirked.

  “Hey, we can’t get everything.” Harlem laughed. “Why did you mention damaged as a plus?”

  “Because I’m an eternally fucked-up motherfucker and if a woman is too perfect, too goody two shoes, she won’t understand me… get how my mind works. I don’t do this work because it’s the only thing I know how to do. I do it because I love it.”

  “I know you do. It’s why Longhorn called you a problem last year, said you were out of your fucking mind and a possible threat, and why Austin never wants to lose you… thinks you’re the best of the best.”

  “And what do you think?” Savage smirked. “Do you agree with Austin or Longhorn?”

  “Honestly, Savage? I think you already know what I’m going to say. I think you’re out of your fucking mind… No, I don’t think it, I know it, and I’m serious. You’re demented. You have continuous bloodthirst and sometimes you view the world through a grizzly lens. Some of that paranoia on your part is warranted though. You’ve seen way too much in your lifetime.” He’s right… “So, are you a problem? No way, but insane? Yes… but you’re a good friend, and I’d trust you with my life before most of these other assholes out here.”

  Savage laughed. “I’ve been called an asshole more times this year than in my whole life. I kinda like it now,” he teased.

  “We’re all assholes. You gotta be to survive this long in this business. I’ve heard you described as heartless, soulless, all of that. But the people that say this, the ones who work in our industry, don’t know you like I do. Part of that is your fault.”

  “My fault?”

  “Yeah, because you only let a few in, and I’m grateful to be one of those chosen people you trust.” He heard the flick of a lighter as the man rested between words. “I can depend on you to do what you’re supposed to do and you are excellent at it.”

  “I am excellent at it, aren’t I?” Savage stretched, then opened a drawer and placed his gun inside, grabbing his Nighthawk Firehawk in its place.

  “Don’t get too cocky. You’ve got one major flaw.”

  “Bullshit!” He cackled.

  “You don’t take orders well. You have a serious problem with authority, lone wolf that you are, but you manage to always get the job done, many times better than expected. Now, back to the woman. Why were you paranoid about her?”

  “Yeah, about that. I was beginning to think she was there to off me at one point. The thought lasted only a short time, but I had to be sure.” He ran his hand over his hair. “Stranger shit has happened. Anyway, I ran a check on her in the system. Not a full one—we didn’t have time for that as it would’ve taken days, but I got the basics. I didn’t want to be taken off guard. She came up squeaky clean.”

  “I still need to run it myself, get a full scope.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the routine.” Savage waited while the man busied himself typing. The silence filling his big home felt odd, as if the extended solitude no longer suited him. He’d never given that much thought up to now. He used to relish being alone, believing it his nature. He imagine Zaire lying beside him on the bed, asleep, looking beautiful just as she did at the hotel.

  Long, shapely legs… ringlets of thick black hair… full, soft lips… dark chocolate nipples… beautiful tits… soft, curly pubic hair…juicy, warm pussy… golden-painted toes… curvy hips… the small tattoo of a rose on her right ankle… the beauty mark above her top lip… slightly cleft chin… deep, dark eyes… skin the color of Earth…

  She’s fucking amazing…

  “I know it’s not my business but since it’s been brought up,” Harlem stated, jerking him out of his deliberations, “the bit I heard on the app before I disconnected didn’t, uh… didn’t really sound like you, man.”

  “What do you mean it didn’t sound like me?”

  “You sounded pussy-whipped. Should I call the doctor?” Harlem said, sounding rather serious for about two seconds, then burst out laughing.

  “Shut the hell up, man.” Savage sneered, not finding a damn thing funny.

  “Oh, shit! You’re not denying it. You are pussy-whipped! Got whiplash from the pussy! You need a neck brace?”

  “Are you finished?” Savage asked dryly as he lazily worked his feet out of his white Puma sneakers.

  “Savage, I’ve known you for over a decade. I have never, in the history of our working relationship or friendship, heard you even hint at being interested in some woman beyond the physical. Last night, I overheard you talking on and on to this lady, pouring your damn heart out. You were laying it on thick!” Harlem burst out laughing once again, this time much louder than the first round. “I thought, ‘yeah, he is really trying to make sure this lady gives it up again before he dips.’ It was hilarious!”

  “Yeah… it’s a fuckin’ riot…”

  “Hey, don’t get mad at me because you got caught slippin’.” The bastard chuckled. “Savage, you’ve fucked up, man! I thought that was all an act until you called and said what happened back at the hotel. I had no idea you had her stay overnight, breakfast in bed ’nd shit. Now, I didn’t hear all of your conversation
with her on the plane, but I heard enough. Over there soundin’ like Keith Sweat… ‘There you go tellin’ me noooo again, there you go… there you go…’” The bastard sang off key, getting his funny bone jollies off.

  “Are you finished?”

  “She must be some Voodoo Witch or some shit because I could not believe my ears! Please tell me you’re just messing with me right now. Tell me it was all a ploy to get sex?!” Savage grinned and shook his head… He’d fallen from grace in his friend’s eyes. His few pals, especially the ones that were married, likely lived vicariously through him.

  “What do you want me to say, man?” Savage tossed up his hands and grinned.

  “I was hoping it was a scheme but you were so damn lovey-dovey and convincing that even I for a second thought about dropping my own damn draws! That was a smooth ass conversation! You are a sweet talkin’ mothafucka, man! Yo’ ass need to write for Hallmark. I didn’t even know you had it in you!”

  “Harlem, go to hell.” Savage fell back onto his bed, staring up at the skylight.

  “Did you throw your jacket over a puddle for her, and all that shit? Fight off some dragons, threaten a witch? Climb up some hair hangin’ from a castle window?”

  “All right, and on that note, I’m going to call it a night. Tomorrow is a busy day. I’ll hit you up in the morning.”

  “Make sure you do, lover boy. Oh, one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “Somethin’, somethin’, somethin’, somethin’ just ain’t riiiight!” The man burst out into another Keith Sweat song, then exploded into raucous laughter.

  Savage abruptly ended the call. He lay there for a good ten or so minutes, perhaps longer, falling into a ditch of dark daydreams. Each nerve ending inside his body tingled as his brain launched into an instant replay of the bloody massacre that had occurred in his house…

  I’m back home. Finally.

  He sat up, debating on whether to take a shower and going to bed, or look over his files, give them a second and third read-over before the evening was through. As he neared a decision, his cellphone rang. Snatching it up, he stood to his feet, anger crawling through him.

  “I should’ve cut your fat fucking head off when I had the chance five years ago.”

  “Savage, we need to discuss some things. Important things.”

  Savage placed the call on speaker, set the phone down on his bed, and removed his shirt, tossing it onto a chair.

  “I have absolutely nothin’ to say to you. Your issue is with Austin, not me. The minute you sent your posse after me, in my own home, we were beyond any discussions, Longhorn.”

  “I was under the impression you had one of my men there.”

  “So what! Your intelligence was wrong, and I didn’t even so much as get a ‘so sorry’ card and flowers from ya, either. It was a major fuck up at my expense. Kiss my hairy ass!” Savage snatched a dresser drawer open, removed a cigar from a gold container, and lit it with a match.

  “Austin and I have a checkered past, that is true; however, I was not coming after you, specifically.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Your guys pointed guns right at me and shot! If that’s not coming after me, I’d hate to see what is.”

  “That’s because you had already begun shooting. You are aware, however, that you killed Murdock, took off his tongue, so we’re even. This wasn’t personal.”

  “Nah, we’ll never be even. I don’t give a shit who I killed on your team. They broke into my house so the hell with Murdock who was asked who sent him and he refused to answer, so he got what he got I didn’t even know who the hell he was before that day and secondly, you came back for seconds!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, Longhorn. You tracked me down in Vegas and tried to explode that party, too. No, Longhorn, this shit is definitely personal now. I am slaughtering anyone you send after me until I can get to you. I’m done playin’. This is war.” There was a couple seconds of silence, as if the man was trying to collect his thoughts.

  “Vegas? I never sent anyone after you in Las Vegas, Savage. I’m telling the truth. I am responsible for the siege of your house in California. That’s it.”

  “That’s it?! My pool looked like a vat of strawberry Kool-Aid when your boys got finished! It cost over fifty grand to fix my house and get rid of all the blood and bullets embedded in the walls, broken furniture ’nd shit, and let’s not even get into the fact that one of my favorite lookouts was killed by one of your damn roaches! Don’t let me catch you out, Longhorn. Austin’s orders to not rough you up be damned!”

  “Again, it was nothing personal, Savage. My men showed up for a rescue mission. It was due to my agent, Jasper, being missing and spotted there on your premises.”

  Savage leaned forward and blew out smoke from the corner of his mouth.

  “Why in the fuck didn’t you just pick up the gotdamn phone and ask if he was here, Professor Dipshit?”

  “The profanity and name calling is unwarranted, Savage. I fully understand you and I will never be friends, we do not like one another, but we are work colleagues to some extent. Whether you wish to respect that or not is not my issue. You made an oath. Regardless of you being an independent contractor, you had to pledge just like everyone else. We’re on the same team, so your aggression is ill-placed.”

  “My dear good man, Longhorn, Offended are thee?” he mocked in a faux British accent. “I offer my humblest of apologies and bequeath to you my heartfelt consideration, for you are truly worthy of esteem, reverence, and admiration.” Savage chuckled and shook his head. “You fuckin’ stuck-up, dingleberry-faced dipshit! How about I stick my size fourteen foot up thee tight, narrow ass?! Or better yet, good sir, a live grenade with flesh-eating bacteria?! Overkill, much?!” He jumped to his feet, mad as hell. “YOU SENT TEN MOTHERFUCKERS TO MY HOUSE, SHOT UP MY PEOPLE, FUCKED UP MY HOME, RUINED MY PARTY. ALL WHILE I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A MUCH-NEEDED FUCK! Fuck your feelings, you twit. Answer my fuckin’ question!”

  He was met with a long, weighty sigh.

  “Because there’s a bounty on his head and that would’ve tipped you off. I had no indication that he was not on the premises against his will.”

  “Don’t you get it? He was never here, cum stain! I had to run off because the heat was on me and I wasn’t allowed to lay a finger on you because Austin wanted to investigate. So off to Vegas I went. Running is for cowards. Next time, I am coming after you. Screw the oath, principles, all of that shit. You sure as hell didn’t abide by them. You had no business taking your rage for Austin out on me. You two were best friends. Now there’s bad blood and you knew damn well this was an excuse to hit him where it hurts. I’ve had it up to here with this beef you and Austin are in the middle of, and then you have nothing to say for yourself when I tell you that you fucked up! BE A MAN AND OWN UP TO YOUR SHIT!” He angrily smashed his cigar into an ashtray, gnashing his teeth in frustration. “And why should I believe you about Vegas, huh? That’s definitely your style.”

  “Savage, we thought you had a hostage and everything I did was in accordance with our law. We thought he was in imminent danger. As far as Vegas, again, I assure you that wasn’t me!”

  “Hold on. Let me check this receipt.”

  “Receipt? What receipt?”

  “Nope. I definitely didn’t buy any of your bullshit…”

  “Savage, for God’s sake! I was aware you were in Vegas, yes, but not exactly certain where. More importantly, I knew after what had transpired, that everyone would be watching you so it was far too risky. Now, if something happened there, which apparently it did, I will open my records for public consumption and allow you to view my electronic tracking of each and every man on my team—prove to you that I never put a hit out on you. I will even take it one step further and allow you to view my personal tracking as well. Again, you were not the target at your home, Savage, though I do understand your frustration and disbelief. There was
no one from my team after you in Vegas, either. That would’ve been foolish on our part for reasons already mentioned.”

  Savage took a deep breath and sucked his teeth. “What the hell do you want from me?”

  “A hit had come across my desk, one of the most important ones I’ve ever seen. Two of my best men, that I’m certain would’ve handled this with flying colors, are gone. You killed one during the home invasion, and the other is M.I.A. I need this done right. Please consider it.”

  “Offer declined.”

  “Savage, I know you hate my guts, but there is something bigger than us going on here. If you could get past your ego and pride, that would be much appreciated. Don’t you want to even meet and hear details about this? You have to admit that the one time we did work together, it was with positive results. You even received a medal of recognition and honor. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

  “I would agree with you, motherfucker, but then we’d both be wrong.” Savage ended the call and headed to his master suite bathroom. He opened a panel in the wall and removed a razor blade and shaving cream, setting them on the counter. “Fuckin’ Alexa, play ‘Calm Like A Bomb’ by Rage Against The Machine, bitch…”

  I don’t even know why I even still have Alexa in this house with all that I know. I am cancelling this service as soon as I get a moment to do so… Total invasion of privacy.

  Moments later he was butt naked in his shower, hot water and soap flowing over his tatted up body. His brain was like a race horse on crack cocaine traveling full speed ahead down the track.

  If it wasn’t Longhorn, then why were those guys in the hotel with me and Zaire? Why did they want to kill me? They didn’t want to kill her or they would’ve…That’s a given. They had the chance. It has the way we do business written all over it. Kill no witnesses unless necessary. I was definitely the target. She positively was taken by surprise; no noncombatant could act that well. What the hell is going on?