Savages Series Boxed Set

by Jessica Gadziala

  "Amy?" I asked, gaze shooting to his. That was too... familiar for my liking.

  "Amelia," he corrected, trying to hold back a smile.

  "You call her Amy?"

  "I'd call her fucking Cleopatra Queen of the Nile if she would give me the time of day."

  I half-snorted, half-laughed, shaking my head at him. "That short for tail in this town? You all gotta sniff after her?"

  "She's different, ya know? Ain't all about how she used to be a cheerleader and makes the best peach cobbler. Girl has something else going on for her. Ain't got no delusions, though man. Asked her out twice. Don't need any more kicks to my ego. She ain't interested. I won't be making a move on her."

  He meant it as a comfort to me. I reached for another beer. "Kinda prefer it'd be you then some other dumb fuck around here."

  "You callin' me a dumb fuck?" he asked, pretending to be offended.

  "Oh, you're a dumb fuck alright," I smiled, tipping my beer at him.

  "Wanna fight? I'd take your skinny ass."

  He was right; he would. Things had changed a lot. "Just sayin'... least I know you ain't a dick."

  "You got feelings for her?" he asked, brows drawn together. "Like... other than wanting in her pants?"

  "Just met her," I hedged.

  "When the fuck has that ever mattered? It is or it ain't. Don't need a fuckin' year to suss out a connection. That shit takes minutes."

  I clicked my tongue, shaking my head at him. "When the fuck did you grow a brain, man?"

  "Psh, fucking junior year, man. Remember Brainy Bonnie? With the glasses and acne and fifty extra pounds?"

  "Yeah," I nodded, image popping into my head like no time had passed.

  "Grew five inches. That weight seemed to settle in her tits and ass. Got some contacts, some skin cream that did wonders. Fucking before and after worthy of a teen movie shit."

  "And?" I asked, starting to smirk.

  "Well, I suddenly found myself in need of some tutoring," he said, giving me a smile. "Between some good times in the back twenty," he said, referring to his dad's ranch, "she managed to beat some knowledge up in me."

  "You owe her some flowers," I laughed.

  A companionable silence fell as we moved to sit in the living room. "Heard about the diner incident," Dade finally said, lips twitching.

  "Stupid backwoods fucks."

  "You always carry a gun?"

  My eyes went to his face, weighing how much I was willing to tell him. "My job? It involves guns."

  "The kind you need to keep concealed and on your body at all times?" he asked and I could see he was putting two and two together. Brainy Bonnie strikes again. It wasn't that he was stupid when we were kids; he just wasn't that bright either.

  "Something like that, yeah."

  "Kinda figured you weren't no accountant," he said with a shrug, letting it drop, knowing better than to pry. "Your friends, they're in your line of work?"

  "Sort-of. Not exactly the same. Break is more similar. Alex works in... computers."

  "And that Paine guy? What the fuck kinda name is that anyway?"

  "His real one," I laughed. "He's a tattoo artist."

  "Spend a lot of time with him, I see," he said, waving toward my body.

  There was a weight behind those words. "Dade... I'm gonna come back and visit. I travel a lot. No reason I can't swing through every now and again."

  I could see him visibly relax at my words. "Good. But just so you know, you ain't gonna sweep in here and fuck her life up every time, though man. Know you're a good guy and you don't wanna be a dick. Also know everything about you screams 'I get loads of pussy'. So just letting you know, won't let you do that to her."

  "Always liked that quality, man," I said, shaking my head.

  "What quality?"

  "Protective. Even when you didn't have good reason to give a spit about me, you looked out for me. Good thing to have... even if you're being a cock block."

  "Psh, way her eyes were shootin' daggers at you, no way your cock was getting anywhere near her anyway."

  I let out a loud sigh, getting up to get another beer.

  "Yeah. I know."

  --

  I wrangled Millie into her carrier with more ease than Alex would appreciate, grabbed my bag, and headed out the door. I paused for the barest of seconds to look at Amelia's door, wondering if I should go over and try to smooth things out. But, in the end, what was the point? I was as good as gone. She had made up her mind about me. Better she just assume I was a dick.

  I had just made it to the bottom step leading outside when I heard voices. Don't ask me why I paused, but I did. I paused and I listened.

  "Just for a couple minutes. Offer me some sweet tea."

  "No, Luis, not today," Amelia's voice reached me and I felt myself tensing.

  Who the fuck was Luis? And why was he trying to get into her apartment? Was he the rich dick who owned the apartment building? Despite better sense telling me I was being a creep, I leaned around the corner to see the man in question reach out and stroke Amelia's cheek in a familiar way. She didn't flinch away either. My eyes moved from her face to the man and I froze.

  No fucking way.

  No fucking way was that the guy she was dating.

  Jesus Christ.

  He was tall and thin with angular features and dark eyes. See, he wasn't looking at me; I couldn't see his eyes. But I knew they were dark. I knew this because I knew him.

  "Alright, Amelia, darling. Maybe tomorrow," he said, kissing her cheek and walking away.

  Something in me broke loose, something low and petty and unfamiliar, making my smile turn more into a sneer as she rounded the corner, yelping when she saw me. "Who was that, angel?"

  Her back straightened; her walls slipped into place. "I don't see how that is any of your business."

  "Is that your boyfriend?"

  "So what if it is?"

  I couldn't help it, the laugh rose up and burst out. The memory of her calling me nasty names for my lifestyle floated around my head.

  "What is so funny?"

  Recovering, I shook my head, still smiling huge. "Karma is, sugar."

  "What are you talking about?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  I chucked her gently under the chin. "Why don't you ask your boyfriend how he knows me, huh, angelface?"

  She rolled her eyes at me as I walked past. "You don't know him. He's new here."

  I turned around as I stepped out of the front door. "Ask him," I said, turning and walking away.

  I climbed into my rental car, still grinning huge. Fucking hell. What a turn of events.

  I pulled the car out of the lot and down the street, expecting to feel relief and peace at leaving the backwoods, bumfuck town behind. Instead, all I felt was a sensation of unfinished business. I pushed it down, trying to focus on anything but the things that would make me want to turn the car around and rush back into that apartment building and spill it all.

  That couldn't happen.

  That was done.

  I had to go back home.

  And Amelia had to stay where she was.

  That was the end of it.

  NINE

  Amelia

  I heard him moving around all night. I heard this because I didn't sleep all night. Dade left sometime around one in the morning, quietly making his way down the hall. I cleaned. I baked. I showered. I tried not to think about Johnnie Walker Allen. I tried not to remember how his hands and lips felt on my body, how his tongue felt between my legs, giving me something no one had ever given me before. I tried to remember that while he was giving it to me, another woman was waiting for him to give it to her.

  "Augh," I growled, getting out of bed around seven the next morning, getting dressed, and heading to work early again.

  The last thing I expected as I made my way downstairs was to run into Luis. It wasn't that it was weird to run into him; he owned the building. He was around, checking on things, overseei
ng improvements, showing empty apartments to possible tenants. He was around a lot. That being said, I wasn't particularly in the mood to see him. Every time I saw him, he wanted to ask me out again. And when I turned him down, he didn't hear "no", he heard "try harder" and most of the time, I gave in just to save myself further argument. I felt absolutely nothing for him. Sure, he was attractive. He had a certain amount of appeal. Many of the women in the town had crushes on him. He just... didn't do it for me. But he was relentless and I was not in the mood to have another of his "Come on, Amelia, you work too hard. You need a night out" arguments.

  "Darling," he said, his head tilting to the side, watching me walk down the steps. His eyes did a slow study of me from the feet up, resting too long at my breasts and I fought the urge to cover them. His gaze came to my face and he gave me a smile that wasn't quite a smile. "You should have called me," he said, tisk tisking as he ran a hand down my splotchy tear-stained cheek.

  "Why?"

  "Because I could have comforted you, darling." I hated that he called me darling, the way he enunciated it with a strong 'g' at the end. I hated it even more because it reminded me of when Johnnie called me that, dropping the 'g' entirely. I hated to admit that it sounded a lot better on Johnnie's lips. Damn it.

  "I didn't need comforting. I just needed some time."

  "I know you cared for Ben. I'm sorry for your loss, Amelia."

  "Thank you," I said, trying to move to the side, but he blocked me in.

  "It's too early for work. Why don't I come up for a bit? We can have a visit." He was always trying to get into my apartment. Whenever I caught him around the building, he'd ask me if there was anything that needed work in there. When I said no, he asked if he could check for himself. Which got him an even firmer no. When I finally gave in and went on dates with him, he always tried to invite himself up for coffee or wine. More firm no's. I guessed maybe he thought that if he could just get inside my apartment, he could get into my panties. That couldn't have been further from the truth.

  "No." I didn't clarify. I didn't make excuses. I heard once that women should learn to use 'no' as a complete sentence, that we didn't need to explain our reasons for saying no. Apparently, Luis didn't understand that concept.

  "Amelia..."

  "No, Luis. Not today." Oh, shoot. I shouldn't have added the 'not today'. That sounded like it was a possibility another day. I blamed the lack of sleep. My brain wasn't working right.

  He paused, a tightness forming around his eyes that made me uncomfortable before it softened. "Alright, Amelia, darling. Maybe tomorrow," he said, kissing my cheek. I watched him walk away for a second, feeling like I wanted to scrub my cheek with a sheet of sandpaper, before I turned to go back upstairs. Maybe I didn't need to go to work early. Maybe what I really needed was a day off. I needed to get some sleep, put my thoughts back in order. I didn't even have to call out to anyone. I had no one to answer to.

  And then I ran into Johnnie and he dropped that line about knowing Luis before walking away from me too.

  Watching him move to the parking lot and climb into the car, I got to say, it hurt. It hurt in a way that it totally shouldn't have. I was willing to blame it on the lack of sleep, on the grief, on the fact that I had let him do stuff to me that I hadn't let anyone else do. That was all it was. Everything was crazy. The sooner he was gone and things got back to normal, the better.

  I let myself back into my apartment and threw myself in bed, fully knowing that sleep would not be coming. Especially with that little piece of information Johnnie dropped on his way out. Was he being honest? Did he really know Luis from somewhere? It seemed like an impossibility, but I didn't know that much about Luis' past either. He showed up in town, bought the land, built the apartments. That was the extent of my knowledge. I had no idea where he was originally from. Maybe they had crossed paths before. Besides, Johnnie seemed to be one of the more honest guys I had met. I really couldn't imagine him making up some silly story just for the hell of it. That didn't seem like him. But, really, I didn't even know Johnnie that well either. Someone who worked as a contract killer was surely good at lying. How else could he avoid trouble? So maybe it wasn't that he was so honest, maybe it was that he was just that good of a liar.

  "Augh!" I growled, pulling the blanket up over my head and willing myself to stop thinking about Johnnie Walker Allen at all.

  --

  The next day, I went to work. I stayed late, pretending I had too much work to do, but honestly just doing so to avoid confronting my empty apartment. See, I realized something not sleeping again the night before, something that settled with a bitter taste on my tongue: I was lonely. I was bone-deep lonely. And, true, the lonely had always been a part of me, since I was a little girl, since my life fell apart. I kept people away with my thorns, a defense mechanism that Johnnie had spotted within minutes of knowing me. I did this because I learned how dangerous it was to let people in, to let them become important. Because if I had learned anything in my life, it was that people you loved went away eventually. And the space they vacated, it could never be filled.

  That's what I was doing when I moved to Alabama: I was running away from people I had started to get too attached to, my old roommate, my classmates in college. Everyone. They started to mean too much. So at twenty-three, I packed my stuff, I left a note, and I took off. I landed in Alabama because that was where my crummy car finally coughed and sputtered and died. Luckily for me, there was a chance to build a life and career even in such a small town. So that was what I did. And I learned my lesson; I didn't get close with anyone.

  Until Ben.

  Ben worked at it. He talked to me at the mailbox; he engaged me in conversation on the balcony on the weekends; he invited me over when his 'eyes were bigger than his stomach' and he 'bought too much pizza'. The well of loneliness in him was as deep as the one in me. We'd connected. And he was every bit of a recluse as I was. He was safe. So I let him in. He helped fill the void a little.

  Then he was gone. And not only was I dealing with his loss, I was becoming reacquainted with the hollowness inside.

  And in walked Johnnie right when the misery felt too much to bear. He helped fill in the void in a smaller capacity than his father.

  Now that was gone too.

  I was alone as alone could get, with just Luis and his unwanted attentions to keep me company.

  Maybe it was time to move on again. Maybe I was done with Alabama. Maybe it was time to try the midwest or California. Maybe I needed to get lost in the snow-capped mountains of Vermont. Maybe it was time for a change.

  I walked back to my apartment, sorting through my mail so I didn't see him until I heard him. "Good evening, darling."

  My head snapped up and there was Luis, leaning against my door in cream slacks (yes, cream) and a lightweight blue shirt. Everything about how he carried himself and dressed was out of place. Why he was living there was completely beyond me. It didn't seem to suit him.

  "Hey Luis," I said, not even bothering to hide the displeasure in my tone.

  "I brought wine," he said and, sure enough, there was a bottle of red in his hands.

  Great. Just wonderful.

  "Just twenty minutes, Amelia. I won't keep you from your plans."

  Right, my plans. If eating a frozen pizza and re-grouting my tub counted as plans.

  "Fine," I said, unlocking my door and letting him inside.

  He closed it behind him as I made my way to the kitchen for glasses. I didn't own any wine ones, but I had nice glass tumblers at least. "You added locks," Luis observed and I looked up to see him inspecting the locks. "Were the ones installed not working properly?"

  Gosh, he was so weird. I put the tumblers at the end of the counter and went in search for a corkscrew. "Ben installed them. He said it wasn't right for a woman living alone to rely on doorknob locks, and a chain or something like that. He insisted on putting on some deadbolts."

  "Two of them," Luis observed, making his way tow
ard me and reaching for the corkscrew I was holding out to him. I hoped my message was clear: let's get this over with.

  "He said you could never be too safe."

  "Indeed," Luis said, jerking his head toward the sliding door to the balcony where I had a metal pole in the track, keeping it from being able to be pulled open.

  "I'm not from around here," I shrugged. "It's not weird to me. I think it's weirder that no one else locks their doors than that I have multiple locks."

  "Good point," he said, pouring the wine into the glasses. When I went to reach for mine, he brushed my hand away. "Let it breathe," he said in a tone that made me feel like a scolded child. "You know, I'm not from around here either."

  Well then. There was my opening. "I know," I said, trying to soften my tone into friendly interest. "Where are you from originally?"

  "New York. Then I spent some time in Boston, Austen, Miami, Raleigh."

  "Big traveler."

  "Business," he said, waving it off. I nodded, unsure where to go from there. Luis grabbed both glasses and moved toward the living room and sat down on my couch. I followed, choosing the opposite couch, not wanting him to get any ideas, and reaching for my glass. "You have an eye for interior decorating," he said and I felt the compliment lighten my mood slightly. "Normally, I wouldn't think this... lilac color would ever work, but you have somehow made it happen."

  "Thank you," I said, sipping the wine, the flavor exploding across my taste buds in a way that only expensive wine could do.

  "You've done some recent rearranging," he said.

  "What? Like the furniture?" I asked, confused.

  "Yes."

  "No," I said, shaking my head. I hadn't moved anything since I got it the way I liked it... a year ago.

  "Oh. Fresh scuff marks underneath your television cabinet," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

  My eyes darted over to the cabinet in question to find he was right, there were scuff marks. Weird. "You're very observant," I said with a smile I didn't mean. "I clean a lot. I must have moved it while vacuuming," I said, hoping the lie fell true. Fact of the matter was, I knew with certainty I had never moved that cabinet. First, because it weighed a ton. Second, because I knew it would leave scuff marks on the nice wood floors. So that was really weird.