My Savage

by Ellie Jean

  “It’s guys like me that keep this business going, don’t fucking forget that. If your name gets around as a kid basher, who do you think is going to be coming into this shop? I’ll personally make sure this shop goes under, you along with it.”

  The boy strides in my direction, fists drawn back, but the father has good sense to hold him back. I turn and get out of the building trying to inhale some cleansing air. Those two are rotten.

  Half expecting to see the young girl hiding out the back, where we have had a few quick conversations, my stomach drops when I don’t see her.

  “Phoebe. Hell, I hope I haven’t made it worse for you?” Speaking softly in case she is in earshot, there’s no reply. I should try and speak to her at her house before they come home. Following her many times over the course of the year, I’ve been intrigued by her, I run down the road and slow to a walk close to her yard and glance over the rose bushes to see if she is working on the rest of the garden. So young yet she does such mature things. Why is no one protecting her?

  Younger than me, but infatuated by her, I shake my head and turn away from the shadowing garden thinking of Tanner’s ridiculing words to me— “It’s puppy love you’re experiencing, she’s a kid and your hormones are raging rampant. It’s nothing more.”

  “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, at four-thirty to make sure nothing’s been touched on your delicate skin. Bye, Phoebe,” I yell over the fence. Hopefully she hears me, and I pray those two fuckers listen.

  I want her to know she’s not alone.

  Except I didn’t get there.

  My parents had plans for me in the holidays.

  I wasn’t the same kid that returned weeks after.

  Blackness envelops me.

  Tiny spiders crawl up the back of my spine, my eyelashes stick together like I’m trapped in a web. Clenching my teeth, I flick my fingers across my face trying to untangle my eyes, but my hands aren’t cooperating quickly enough. I picture my increased breath coming out in streams of white because the temperature has dropped significantly, but I can’t see it because of the extreme black. I hate the darkness, avoiding no light in any situation. My overactive imagination takes over, scaring me more.

  No stranger to adversity, I should be taking this in stride but my brother who is now a murderer has sent my mind into overload. If I look at the history between us, it was in the cards that he would go down this path. My father was no role model and with me gone, they both had to fend for themselves. I heard the shop folded a year after I ran away, and no doubt times got harder for them. I should feel compassion, but I was living my own hell due to them. I bet as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow that they didn’t give me one good thought after I left.

  Catching the frenzied look in my brother’s eyes when I walked into the patient’s room, it turned psychotic when he realized it was me standing in the doorway, looking between the gun, the dead man and his face. It took me two seconds to realize the extreme danger I am now in.

  “Help.” My stomach is rock hard, my mouth dry as I yell in hysteria.

  “Heellpp.”

  The door bursts open, and a stream of light comes in. Heaving in and out, Ocean’s by my side in an instant.

  “I’m here.” Warm and calloused, his hand grips mine and the creeping up my spine eases. Concern floods his eyes, but his voice, hot and smooth like liquid gold, reassures my shattered nerves.

  My body softens instantly.

  “I h-hate the dark.” I pray this simple statement explains my freaking out.

  Leaning down, Ocean switches on the side lamp which I could have done myself if I wasn’t being so dramatic. “Oh, I’m an i-idiot.” Rolling my eyes, Ocean whole-heartedly smiles making my insides slump into a mush of goo and my lady-bits, hell I sound like a sixty-year-old woman, tingle with desire. How can someone so menacing make me finally come out of my introverted ways?

  “I should have realized after last night but when I returned from the shops in the daylight you were still fast asleep, then I got busy making us dinner.”

  “You c-cook too?” Slapping my hand over my mouth, he bursts out laughing and I cringe at my stupidity once again.

  “As opposed to killing dirtbags and picking up damsels in distress?”

  That’s exactly what I mean but I cannot say that out loud, although I don’t know why not, I’ve already put my foot in my mouth. “Perhaps.” Bowing my head down, I look up through my lashes.

  “I don’t think you’re as innocent as you make out, Bluebell.”

  “Maybe, m-maybe not. But that’s s-something you will have to work out f-for yourself.”

  “I think I’m going to enjoy working you out.” Piercing me with his stare and smile, my body zings alive like a match on a wick of dynamite ready to explode. I can’t disagree with him.

  “You must be starving, sleeping through lunch and now it’s late. I’ve made some homestyle lasagna if you feel up to it.”

  Food’s been the last thing on my mind after the scones, but now there’s talk of it, the emptiness in my stomach could fit a horse in it. “Sounds perfect. I’ll freshen up and come out.”

  “I bought you a few pairs of stretchy pants and sweatshirts that are more to your size, they’re in the bathroom.”

  Removing his body from the bed, he’s gone before I can say thank you once again. I’m going to have to show him I’m thankful ‘cause he’s going to get sick of hearing it.

  Damn, what am I saying? Heat swamps my face and I know I’m as red as a beetroot. Stringing two words together is an effort, how will I, an inexperienced twenty-six-year-old florist show him? Ocean is a guy who has witnessed and lived through many diversities of life. His own words describing illegal acts he’s been a part of. Any sane person would be running a mile from him, yet he’s taken me in, with my life-threatening problem and made me feel safe and not as alone as what I would be back in my apartment waiting for my brother to come and kill me. He’s been a true gentleman and my savior. No other man comes close to Ocean and what he has done for me.

  My eyes search the room for my small crossbody bag I had on me when I fell locating it on the floor on top of my pile of washed clothes. Shaking my head, I wonder why is this man being so good to me? Picking it up, I take out my phone and there’s no surprise, no one has tried calling me. That sums up my life to a tee. Clicking on Google, I search for crime syndicates in LA. I scroll through image after image and there’s none there of Ocean. Page two and three of images are the same. A small picture of a guy in handcuffs catches my attention on page four. Hitting the photo, it enlarges and there’s Ocean with longer hair falling across his left eye, cops hold his arm, yet his face looks calm and relaxed. The caption ‘Savages Strike Again,’ heads the top of the page. Scrolling quickly through the words: slay, caught, murder, casino, brutal, strippers are highlighted in fluorescent yellow in my mind. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to breathe.

  My mind races but even after two days, I know there is another side to Ocean that someone hasn’t been able to penetrate. He’s still the guy that has treated me kindly and gently since being in his care. As a client once told me, don’t believe everything you read or see on the internet. Putting my cell back in my purse, I’ve wasted enough time. I need to shower and go and work on how I’m going to thank this man for what he is doing for me.

  “Lasagna will be on the table in five minutes.” My legs move swiftly to the bathroom.

  “I won’t be long.” Showering in less than two minutes, I towel dry my hair and wish I had my hairdryer, makeup, and more than sweatpants and sweatshirt to put on. My fingers rake through my hair, lucky it’s short and I try to make it look appealing, but it hangs there.

  “Crap.” Looking in the mirror, I look like the frightened young girl I did years ago, except I have larger boobs and a bigger butt. Holding my chin up high, I take one last glance and put a smile on my face. A devilish handsome man has made me tea. I’m going to enjoy tonight like never before. To be truthful, it wo
n’t be hard, ‘cause I haven’t been on a date with a guy in forever. So whatever happens, I’ll savor the sexy company and heavenly smelling food.

  Odette Hunt was an incredible cook before alcohol consumed her life. In fairness, Mom tried hard to hold on to everything, but my father’s business took precedence over everything, including his family. Melody and I were mere figures who inhabited the palatial palace Dad bought with his money he made from capital ventures after he shipped his children off to summer camp when I was sixteen and Melody was fourteen. Mother was like a love-struck fool trying to gain Dad’s attention any way she could. Her children didn’t exist, dresses got shorter, makeup applied heavier, haircuts and change of colors every few weeks, parties galore and when none of it made a difference, alcohol became her husband. It made her feel good and it was always there.

  “Gosh, that s-smells divine.” My hairs raise on my arms listening to each syllable.

  “An old recipe my mother taught me.” Placing the dish on the table, I look up and her smile captures me completely. I grab the chair to steady my legs as a slow smile spreads on my lips and I usher for her to sit down.

  “I can’t w-wait to try it.” Her shoulders stay square and her eyes stay on mine. “But you didn’t h-have to go to this m-much trouble.”

  Sitting down opposite her, I look at the array of drinks I have set up on the table, in hindsight I guess the five different drinks were a little overkill.

  “I didn’t know what you drank, so I went for a few options.” Shrugging my shoulders because it really is no big deal, we both burst out laughing as Bluebell runs her hands over the cocktail glass with a bottle of prepared espresso martini near it, there’s a cola can, a champagne glass with white wine in it and then a red wine goblet as well.

  “I t-think you have most things covered here.”

  My pulse thunders watching her wide eyes and contagious smile.

  “I have a beer and cider in the fridge too if you’d prefer those or juice and of course water.”

  “You’ve thought of e-everything.”

  Her sincere look draws my eyes and when her hand clasps over mine, my insides explode like a supernova. Vibrant colors take over my vision and with it all sense of reality seconds before the blast. I’m drifting in a galaxy unknown to me.

  “Ocean?”

  Blinking, I must look like a loon, but my head’s swimming in luminous lights, and the beauty of it is compelling.

  “Ocean? Are you okay?” Gripping tightly on my skin, her warmth permeates my hand.

  Clarity slams into me.

  This girl is someone I want to get to know a hell of a lot more.

  “Earth to Ocean.” Her head lowers down and she strains across to look at my face. “Hello?”

  “You’re stunning.”

  She moves back in her chair but doesn’t move her hand from mine. “And you’re c-crazy.”

  “True on both accounts, I’d say and I’m never wrong.”

  “Really?” She raises her eyebrows in question.

  “Just ask me.”

  Her laugh makes me laugh and I use my free hand to raise my beer bottle. “To finding and keeping new friends. Cheers.”

  Her hand passes multiple times over all of the glasses and lands on the champagne flute. “And to the unknown. Cheers.”

  Swallowing a mouthful, we both look at our joined hands. I’m not ready to let it go yet, so I use my free hand to pick up my fork and use it to cut into the meal.

  “I love these w-wildflowers, where did you f-find these?”

  “Outside, in the back garden. I thought you’d like them.” I’d tried to think of every small detail, from drinks, a warm meal, something special that would make her smile and feel comfortable. Being a florist, flowers must give her comfort.

  “I love paper d-daisies.”

  Filling my mouth with food, I nod and squeeze her hand.

  “My favorite flowers though are b-bluebells. They’re delicate and small, but rich in color and striking when you s-see groups of them.” Taking a large mouthful of her wine, she resumes eating, looking down at her plate.

  “I’d go as far as to say compelling, eye-catching, and remarkable.” This girl has no self-confidence, she needs to know how alluring she is.

  Her face tilts up. Realization hits that I am talking about her.

  “Another toast.” I lift up my beer. “To believing there is a soul mate just around the corner for everyone. You only need to keep your eyes wide and heart open.” Hell, where are these words coming from? One thing I know is that when I picked Bluebell off the road, I knew I’d have to help her no matter what, but in a day, it’s gone beyond that. I want to find out what makes her smile, how to eliminate her stutter, and who else has to be punished for making her so timid.

  Instead of being alone and sorting out my life, I want to pursue why Bluebell makes my chest thump, my head swirl with old and new thoughts instead of how I’m going to torture my next victim and why I can’t see me leaving here without her attached to my side for the foreseeable future.

  Gulping down my beer, I’m struck by my revelation.

  This is imperative.

  And certain.

  “Cheers.” Keeping locked on my face, studying me thoroughly, she empties her wine glass as well.

  On impulse, I start to lean toward her slowly.

  My cell rings.

  “Fuck.” Bad timing. “I have to get that.” Sliding out of the chair, disappointment flashes on her face before she resumes looking at her plate, taking a mouthful.

  “It’s Slate, I’ve been waiting. I asked him to find out information about your situation.”

  Pain and worry extend over her facial features. Her body tenses.

  “Hey, man. You found something?” I stand next to Bluebell and hit the phone to speaker. I can’t keep anything from her. This is about her life.

  “It’s not good news, O. We can’t find much on the gunman. But the info we have on the dead guy in the hospital is enough to send a message. He was the uncle to the head of the Thirteen Triad Kings gang which won’t be taken lightly. They’ll be out for blood.”

  Bluebell takes the bottle of champagne and pours herself some more. Her skin has dropped to a pale shade of whiter than white.

  “Yeah, you’re right, they will. What do we know about them?” My hand rests on her shoulder.

  “Tanner and Caden are sorting through the info now. But if I recall, they’re small-time but want to be big-time like everyone else in this darkened place. They don’t come near our car distributions and haven’t been flagged in our casinos and strip joints so the gang’s not on our radar.”

  “It shouldn’t blow back on us anyway which is good news. I need to find this dick before he finds his sister.”

  “Have you found out his name yet?”

  I look at Bluebell and she’s still holding the glass which is now half full.

  “It’s Colton. Colton Kearney.” There’s no hint of hesitation in her quiet voice but her body slumps onto her elbows releasing guilt, no doubt. My hand rubs her back.

  “Got it, S?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks, man, and give Wildcat a huge kiss on the lips from me.” Chuckling, I hear Slate huff. Hanging up I shake my head. Slate’s a sucker for Emerald.

  “Come here.” Taking her arm, she stands, and I walk her to the back veranda. I’d put a warm blanket out there while she was sleeping in case I could coax her outside to watch the daisies blow in the wind sweeping across the paddock at the back. “Look at this.”

  Switching on the spotlight, thousands of small daisy heads wave in the breeze, glistening under the light. “Sit here.” Doing as I say, her eyes are transfixed. I snuggle her next to my lap, wrapping the blanket around us.

  “Ouch.”

  I quickly pull back from her heat. “Fuck, I forgot about your shoulder. Is it feeling any better?”

  She rubs it to alleviate some pain. “Yeah it is, I j
ust leaned on it now the w-wrong way, that’s all.”

  I suspect it’s still banged up and hurting more than she is letting on.

  “It’s hard I know, but the guys and I will find your brother.” I light a joint.

  “But what then, what h-happens to him?”

  “That will be up to you. If I had my way, I’d torture him for putting you through any of this. But ultimately, it’s about you and keeping you safe. Do you think you will be able to walk the streets knowing you saw him kill a guy? Will you be afraid every time you step outside your home?”

  Her shakes rattle through me. “But he’s my brother.” Reaching for the blunt, she inhales and coughs, handing it back to me. “I c-could leave again.”

  “Leave your business, the one thing that was your dream?”

  Sighing, she moves her hands under the blanket. “I’ve done it once, I c-could do it again, I g-guess.” Smoke wafts around us, my arm behind her, keeping Bluebell close.

  “It’s something you need to think about. ‘Cause I will find him.” There will be no apologies from me and my brutal ways. If someone is a threat, I eliminate them. This will be no different from the past seven years of doing what has been essential. I hope she comes to the same conclusion.

  Silence falls upon us, our warmth spreading into each other.

  It’s nice. Like we’re meant to be. Sincere and real.

  Fuck… being next to Bluebell feels right.

  Inhaling, I hold my breath before releasing the smoke.

  A hushed voice drifts to my ears.

  “Kiss me.”

  A breeze washes over us. The lightened area showcasing hundreds of tiny flowers battling to stay upright, swaying in the wind, overcoming an enemy. Clouds filter through the night sky, with the tiniest of stars catching my eyes when the puffs of gray break a part. In the distance, lightning strikes downward catching my attention.

  I’m one of those little flowers trying to survive. And like them at the moment on a collision course with danger and possibly death.