Savage

by Tiana Laveen

  “You…”

  “Why? You like what you see?”

  “Of course I do. You don’t like being stared at?” she teased.

  “It depends on the reason why. What are you thinking about? I’m supposed to ask that, right?” He paused, his fingers on the balls of her feet, no longer delivering the wonderful touch she’d already grown addicted to. “I mean, when you’re dating someone, you’re supposed to ask about their day, how they feel, shit like that.”

  She sucked her teeth and shook her head at him.

  “I refuse to believe that you have no compass as to how to navigate this, Savage. You’re pulling my leg. I know you’ve had relationships with women before I came onto the scene. I’ve had plentiful conversations with you. You know how to hold your own.”

  “Yeah, this isn’t a first, but you’re the first woman I really wanted to impress.” He shrugged, seeming a tad nervous as he began to rub her feet again. “I just want to make sure I’m doing this shit right, that I cover all the bases.” She was duly impressed. “Maybe I should read some articles online, take some of those love surveys, corny shit like that.” She burst out laughing, and he tossed her a hooded glance.

  “Let’s just have a conversation, okay then? A simple one,” she offered.

  “All right.”

  “First of all, when you’re talking to your lady, you should look her in the eye and not continue to watch television.”

  With a huff, he reached for the remote control and turned off the television. He then turned towards her, a silly smirk on his face.

  “Better?”

  “Much. Now, you tell me at least two things you really enjoy doing.”

  “Oh, that’s easy. Fucking and work.”

  “Savage.” She pursed her lips in disapproval. He burst out laughing.

  “All right! Let’s see… Well, just so you know, that was the truth though, okay? I’m serious. Sex and my job are really important to me.” She grimaced. “But I know what you mean. I, uh… Oh, I’ve got it. I like gambling at the casino and swimming.”

  “Great! I knew about the casino, obviously, Blackjack being your favorite and you being quite good at it, too. As for me, I like cooking, traveling, and reading. I threw in a third one for good measure. Are you a good swimmer?”

  “Yeah, really good. When I was a kid, I used to have a gig as a life guard one summer. You? Do you like to swim?”

  “Oh, I can’t swim.” A wave of embarrassment washed over her as he regarded her with wide eyes and pupils steeped in judgment.

  “Can’t swim? What kinda shit is that?!”

  “What do you mean what kind of shit is that? Lots of people can’t swim!” She tossed up her hands.

  “You were born and bred right here in California, in Los Angeles! Beach baby, for God’s sake!”

  “So! I wasn’t born underwater and I’m not a mermaid!”

  “We were all born underwater. Does the amniotic sac ring a bell?”

  “I don’t recall mine,” she snapped. “And chances are high, you don’t recall yours… you know, the whole being born part.”

  “Our bodies are made up of over fifty percent water.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He was a showoff. “Let me ask you something. Is it true that Black people don’t even like to swim? Like, get into a swimming pool? I thought maybe it was just a myth but then there’s you!”

  “Now how the hell can I speak for all Black people, Savage?! Can you speak for all White men with too many damn tattoos, buzzed military haircuts, and beards? What if I stereotyped you and said all guys who look like you are national terrorists, have been to prison, are camo lovers, racists, and gun zealots?”

  He raised a brow in response.

  “But I am a gun zealot. I very well coulda ended up in prison when I was out in the streets. Everyone is a little bit racist if we want to be honest about this shit, and camo clothes aren’t half bad.”

  “You know what I mean!”

  “We’ve gotten off track. The important issue is that you can’t swim.”

  “So here we are again.” She crossed her arms. “Why’s that so important? I don’t plan on dancing with any sharks, unless you know how to do the tango.”

  “I happen to be a great dancer, too. I know how to tango, salsa, a lot of shit.” Now THIS did surprise her about the man. “This Latina chick I used to bone taught me.” She grimaced. It all made sense now. “I’ll show you later.”

  “No, thank you. Wait, dance lessons? Okay.”

  “No, the boning. Back to the swimming though. What if you went on a cruise and people had to jump overboard for their own safety due to a serious mechanical issue, huh? It’s not guaranteed that there’s enough time to get everyone life jackets and even so, that may not be enough to get you to shore safely. What if you saw your friend or sister’s child drowning in a pool and there was no lifeguard on duty? You gonna just stand there and watch the kid drown?” She swallowed. The morbid scenarios were not terribly farfetched. “Your car could swerve and go into the ocean or some ravine with high water. There’s all kinds of things that could happen and go wrong, and besides, it’s great exercise, it’s fun. Fucking under water is the shit, and it’s just a good life skill to have.”

  “Are you done, Smokey the Perverted Bear? Only YOU can prevent forest fires and drowning. I get it! You’ve made your point. I agree with you. Now, let’s talk about something else.”

  “This isn’t over. I’m teaching you how to swim soon.” He casually reached for his wallet and removed a cigar. He lit it and took a drag, blowing out dense curls of smoke. “I can get you sorted in just a few days. I’m that good.”

  “You know those cigars are bad for your health, right?” She began to cough, laying it on thick as she waved her hand, trying to dispel the smoke in a dramatic fashion. “Since you want to sit there on your high horse and talk to me about not knowing how to swim, talking about safety and all.” She frowned. “I bet your lungs are black as tar.”

  “They might be.” He shrugged. “But you can bet your pretty little ass I never get winded…” He looked her up and down. “I dare ya to say otherwise. In fact, you tap out way before it even crosses my mind. Considering my age, I run circles even around teenagers and have the speed of an Olympic athlete. My strength is one of my best assets. I have an extremely high pain threshold and I can breathe for two minutes and thirty-two seconds underwater on my worst day.”

  “Do you ever get tired of discussing how great you are?”

  “Rarely. So black lungs or not, I can go toe to toe with most men my age and younger. But your ass still can’t swim.”

  She walloped him with a pillow, which only caused him to laugh all the louder. Standing to his feet, he took her hand and helped her up. He was so tall, so overwhelming. Before she knew it, Savage was pushing her body back, then drawing her close, spinning her and counting steps.

  “This is how you salsa.”

  “I like it! This is fun. Maybe we should turn on some music?”

  “Nah, just feel the rhythm. See, everything has a beat, a song. Friendships have a song that only those friends know the lyrics to. No one else can hear it. Killing has a song. When I’m on one of my missions, I listen closely to it. Only I can hear it, and I like it, especially since I’m the DJ.” She swallowed and drew serious. “Realizing you like someone as more than just a fuck buddy has a song, too, so… I’m just here, you know, tryna learn it… waiting for you to teach me all the lyrics. I’m trying to hear what your mind and heart are saying to me, Zaire. I know your body well. We’ve got that part down pat. Now I’m trying to do that shit lovers do… romance you, dance with that thing my friend Harlem calls soul. He told me one time, when he and I first met, that I was soulless, but then, he changed his mind.”

  “What made him second guess that?”

  “He spent more time with me. He said I’ve got plenty of soul—I just show it to a select few.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Soul sharing makes you
vulnerable, baby. Be careful.”

  “Speaking of souls, do you believe in God, Savage?” He sported a quizzical expression but kept moving and showing her the steps, holding her close.

  “Don’t they say God is within all of us?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then yeah, I believe in God. I have to because I know Satan is real. He’s in me, too.” The man’s eyes grew dark and hooded, sending chills up her spine. Goosebumps covered her arms. She felt the same sense of urgency and panic when he’d tossed her about in bed, the steel metal of his gun within sight, sticking out of his pants splayed on the ground in her bedroom. He’d manhandled her in the shower after their session in bed earlier, and she loved how rough he was when he had his way with her. He was an infectious gorgeous disease, a horribly seductive addiction, and she prayed she never got well. “I can’t believe in one without the other. Good and evil must co-exist. They depend on each other. They have no definition without that reliance.”

  “I never really thought of it that way. I suppose you could be right.”

  “So no, you’re not dancing with a shark, baby. You’re dancing with the Devil… Thing is, Eva, I like hurting people. But you? You like helping people. I wanna protect you, and in your own way, I think you want to protect me, too—from myself.” He was right… “I know a part of you is afraid of me, but believe it or not, a part of me is afraid of you too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you motivate me. You compel me to examine myself. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re making me think about the things I do—pushing me, making me want to see if I can have my cake… that’s you… and eat it, too. Settle down for a change. It was never tempting until now. I still have to be me, you seem to get that, but maybe, just maybe, I can take all this shit off… the heavy shit that sets on my shoulders and weighs me down while I’m with you. Maybe when I walk through your door, I can just be Maximus. I am Savage, I am both, but Maximus doesn’t get as much airtime, and maybe he needs it.” He shrugged. “There’s something inside of you that I want. That I need. You can teach me some shit I don’t know how to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “To fall in love graciously…” She closed her eyes and blinked back her emotions. “But I have to earn you, right?”

  “Yes. We both are trying to earn one another, and that includes trust.” She leaned in close and kissed his cheek.

  “So here I am, the Devil in the flesh. I’ve been cast away. I’m a black sheep, a proud member of the discarded, revered and feared. Wasn’t Lucifer a fallen angel?” She looked at the imp tattoo on his wrist, the whipping tail and the two sharp black horns along the top of the beast’s head. “I’m extinguishing my flames for just a moment so you can get close to me, Zaire, without getting burned. This shit is hard for me because I like being on fire and destroying everything that comes my way. Now, I have to consider someone else. Something tells me that you’re worth it…”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Don’t Touch My Shit

  …Two weeks later

  Savage tossed another blade into his army green duffle bag then slid the bag strap over his shoulder. His phone planted to his ear, he cleared his throat as he made his way down the stairwell, out the kitchen, and opened the garage door.

  “So, it was just a matter of time, you know?” Austin said.

  Savage half-listened to the man rattling on. Setting his bag onto the concrete ground, he tugged at the black tarp covering his midnight blue and jet black Boss 1969 Ford Mustang. It was one of a kind, rare and coveted. He’d been offered so much money for it he could have purchased another home, but he refused to part with it. His father had gotten it from a dump, fixed it up, then given it to him for his eighteenth birthday. He’d never let it go. He took care of the damn thing like he would a newborn, ensuring she stayed in good health.

  “And so I appreciate you taking care of that for me. Your assignment is complete,” Austin added, bringing whatever the hell he was saying to a close.

  “When do I get the other half of my money?” Savage picked up his bag, slipped his car keys out of his pocket, and unlocked his prize, anticipating the purr of the engine as he sat down on the soft white leather interior. He tossed the bag in the back of the car and rested the phone on the dashboard.

  “You always get it within forty-eight hours. That’s been the protocol for years.”

  “Yeah, well, I have some business to take care of so it never hurts to ask.”

  “You’re definitely not living pay check to pay check. You’re rich!” Austin chuckled, though his laughter was tinged with confusion. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “This is business. Nothing has gotten into me.” Savage drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, feeling antsy, then turned on the special stereo system he’d had installed. His Prince cassette was still inside and the tune of ‘Uptown’ came through the state-of-the-art speakers.

  “That’s a bit loud.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s a bit loud, Savage!”

  “Really? Loud like… fuck it!”

  “You seem a bit, I don’t know, edgy lately, Savage. Is something troubling you?” Austin inquired as he turned the volume lower.

  “Yeah. A lot is troubling me, Austin. Yesterday, I had my tires slashed. What a bitch move! What grown man slashes another man’s tires?! My jeep was parked out in front of a liquor store.”

  “Well, maybe it wasn’t a man. Did you piss off one of your many women?” the man teased. “You’ve been known to break some hearts.”

  “Nope, it wasn’t a chick.” Savage closed the car door and gripped the steering wheel, trying with all his might to not lose his cool. “I asked the store to see their camera footage, and showed ’em my government I.D. The man was dressed in black from top to bottom. Couldn’t make out shit… The video was grainy, too.”

  “Well, who do you think did it? What’s the motive?”

  “Someone is trying to kill me. It was a warning. The timing couldn’t be worse.”

  “Someone is always trying to kill us, Savage. It goes with the territory. You’ve said it yourself—you’re the doorkeeper, you take out the trash. Sometimes the trash has trashy friends, and they want a piece of the action.”

  “No, this is different.”

  “The incident in Las Vegas? I thought we had that resolved,” the man stated with a long sigh. “Longhorn had nothing to do with that situation, Savage, and we figured that the two guys in there were tied to the assignment you did last year in Miami. We could never get their real names, only aliases. No fingerprints, nothing. They’re not in the database which is strange, but they’d been spotted in Miami several times by eye witnesses, so that had to have been it. That was a heavy case, the Toret Crew. They were connected, remember? It was a revenge thing. You and Dimitri took out three of their kingpins within eight hours. Unheard of. Come on. You have enough real life bullshit to worry about than to bother yourself with suspicion.”

  “No, I’m not convinced that isn’t what this is about. My gut is tellin’ me that’s wrong, all wrong, and it’s not paranoia. It’s called being proactive… smart. Yeah, they were from Miami, the same area I was in last year when Dimitri and I took out Miguel and his squad. And yeah, they may have known Clinton and Miguel, who really knows? But this had a different feel to it and if that was the motive, why isn’t Dimitri getting people jumpin’ out of closets on his ass, too?” He was met with silence. “Exactly. Why would they wait in the closet to confront me in the first place?

  “They had a clear shot for at least ten seconds before I noticed the plant was moved. My defenses were lowered. I was walking into that room to be with a woman, not to strategize, not to get more ammo. I had just been outside on my motorcycle serving a little street justice. I was amped. Why would they sit back and watch me fuck someone, for over an hour I might add, then shower, all of that shit? I was ready for them in case they came in the shower, too, but they didn’t k
now that. It’s like they were waiting for a signal. For someone else to show up, to give them the go ahead.”

  “You’re reading too much into this. They wanted a good aim, no doubt. They knew if they missed, you’d take them out. You’re known for your shooting accuracy.”

  “Are you aware Harlem was supposed to come and join me that day?”

  “No. Why would Harlem come?”

  “Because I hadn’t heard back from you and I was concerned. He said he would arrange to come, especially after the heat was on me regarding me mowing that fuckin’ meth head down who stole that woman’s purse and it was all over the news. But this just isn’t adding up, Austin. Something stinks.”

  “I don’t think anything suspicious is going on here, Savage. We’ve all looked at this extensively but I tell you what, I will have the intelligence crew look over it again, okay?”

  “Yeah.” He pushed the button on the car visor and opened the garage door then started the engine and lit a fresh cigar. “You do that.”

  “So, what are your plans today? I hope you don’t plan on heading off on vacation. Don’t get too comfortable because next week I need you… Very important task. It just got signed off on.”

  “I don’t work for you, Austin. You’re on my time, not the other way around.”

  The man sighed. “I know that, Savage, but this is important. I need—”

  “It’s always important, isn’t it?” He quickly rolled the window down. “Like the fact Longhorn keeps blowin’ up my gotdamn phone, demanding to talk, even after the bullshit he pulled. And it was also so super fuckin’ important that you sent five fuckers to my girlfriend’s house sporting full metal jackets to interrogate her and didn’t even have the fuckin’ common decency to give me a heads up so I could warn her!”

  “So that’s what this is about…”

  “So that’s what this is about?! Like it’s no big fuckin’ deal! She’s not one of us! You can’t do that! She was scared out of ’er mind! Her friends were over there, too. Do you know how fuckin’ bad that looked?!”