UnTouch Me (Savage Beast MC Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  “I’m leaving,” she whispers.

  “Why?” I ask, knowing damn good and well why.

  The fact that Trista is going to be in charge of the clubhouse is the reason she’s going. She doesn’t want her ass beat again. She lets out a long exhale, then shakes her head once.

  “It’s just time for me to go,” she whispers.

  “Is it?” I ask.

  “You’ll never be with me, you’ll never want me to be your side piece, will you?”

  “No,” I simply state.

  She nods, tilting her head to the side. “All I ever wanted to be was wanted. I didn’t care by who and you seemed to fit. You were great in bed, edging closer to fifty with no Old Lady to tie you down and control you.”

  “Ain’t controlled now,” I rumble.

  She smirks. “You are, but you like it, so that’s whatever. I just mean, no man here will want me for anything other than just to be some clubwhore that’s an easy fuck.”

  “Did you expect to be something different?” I ask.

  “I thought maybe one day…”

  “Never gonna happen. Clubwhores don’t become Old Ladies,” I say, pointing out the simple fact.

  “Della did.”

  Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair with a tug. “She’s a special circumstance. One that will likely never be repeated in my lifetime.”

  She nods once, then takes a step toward me, but doesn’t come any closer. I watch as she reaches for the handle, twisting it before she opens the door. “I won’t be here by the time you get back.”

  “Good,” I say. “Better you move on, because Trista’ll never be okay with you, and she is here permanently.”

  Sable nods her head, then turns from me. She stops right outside of the door, looking back at me from over her shoulder. “I fell for you, I really did. I wanted to keep you,” she whispers.

  I don’t say a single fucking word. I watch as her shoulders drop, then she walks away from me. Telling her anything would have opened her up for hope and she doesn’t need that because there is no way I would ever touch her again.

  Even if shit between Trista and I never worked out. Sable is someone that I would never even consider sinking my cock into, I would never hurt my woman that way. It’s better she’s gone, it’s better not only for Trista but for Sable too.

  Maybe she’ll get what she wants, maybe she won’t. Thing is, she isn’t on my radar to worry about, never was. I got one woman I need to concern myself with and that’s the one that wears not only my name but my brand, permanently on her body.

  ONE WEEK LATER

  TRISTA

  The clubhouse is officially my home until our new house is actually finished. The construction is supposed to start as soon as Ridge returns from wherever he’s gone to. I didn’t ask when he loaded up a bunch of guns for two separate crews.

  I knew already that it had to do with the Donkey Punchers and their asinine demand for the Beasts to procure women for sexual abuse. So, instead of demanding answers I knew that I wouldn’t get, I kissed my man and got busy working on running the bar of this club.

  Pinkie spends most of her days sitting across from me as I scribble on the notepad that has become like a second hand to me. Today I’m working on inventory. Pinkie has the girls cleaning the bathrooms.

  “Sable left a week ago, I guess you know that though,” she announces. Lifting my eyes, I arch a brow and try to hide my smile. Ding dong, the fucking witch is gone. “I probably would’ve left too if you beat my ass like that,” she snickers.

  My lips twitch into a small smile. I hear the sound of rumbling bikes and my entire body jerks. Shifting my gaze to my watch, I wonder who the hell could be here?

  Dragon didn’t say anything about when they would be back, but I’ve never known anyone who is away on a run return before noon. It’s too early. Shifting my gaze around, I notice that not only is Pinkie on alert, Dragon is jogging out of the hallway from his office.

  “Get somewhere safe,” he shouts.

  Pinkie is gone before I can even blink. Dragon’s eyes come to me, they’re wide and he shakes his head once as he pulls his gun out. “Get down,” he barks.

  I don’t get down. I’m frozen fucking solid. I blink as the door opens. I expect the Donkey Punchers to walk through the clubhouse door, especially with the way Dragon freaked the fuck out and yelled at me.

  The Donkey Punchers don’t walk through the door. No, streaming through the bright sunshine is Ridge and his crew of three men at his back, dragging another one behind them. The fifth man is dirty, disheveled, and looks like he’s seen better days.

  Ridge’s eyes immediately find mine. He jerks his chin. “Get to our room, babe,” he demands.

  I shake my head. Then before I can say anything, I hear a gasp behind me. “Get the fuck back in our room,” Hawk shouts at Avah.

  I ignore the fact that my father and Avah are now officially sharing a room. I’ve been ignoring it for a couple of weeks, playing at being completely oblivious and just enjoying having my friend here with me.

  “Layne,” Avah calls out.

  My breath is stolen from me, but that’s who is standing right in front of us. It’s our boss from California. The man who was in charge of a high-class stable of call girls. He’s wearing an expensive suit, even if it’s tattered all to hell, I know it’s expensive because that’s all he owns.

  “You fucking cunts,” Layne shouts.

  Avah won’t understand, but I put the pieces together almost immediately. “He’s one of them? He was purchasing a girl?” I breathe.

  “Purchasing?” Avah asks, but I ignore her. My eyes are focused on Ridge and nobody else.

  Ridge dips his chin. “Five of them,” he whispers.

  My stomach twists at the thought, at the idea that the man I worked for, the man that I trusted to keep me safe was buying young girls to use, abuse, and discard.

  “How?” I ask.

  My feet are moving before I realize what I’m doing. I walk past the men who are gathered around and make my way directly in front of Layne himself.

  He’s weak, his body covered in road rash and I have no doubt that the men drug him behind their bikes for a while and played with him. He deserves so much more and I hope he gets it. Jerking my chin up, I look directly into his pale blue eyes.

  “You bought girls? Didn’t you have enough? What the fuck?” I hiss.

  He looks down to his feet, then shifts his eyes to meet mine. “I have many clients that have special needs, ones that no woman is going to voluntarily meet. Only young, owned girls can provide that service.”

  “I hope you rot in hell,” I grind out.

  His lips curl up into a mean looking smile. “Your man will be right next to me when it’s his time, I’ll save him a seat.”

  I shake my head once, then twice. “Never. You’re a special kind of sick. No matter what he’s done or what he does in his life, he’ll never match your evil.”

  Turning to Ridge, I give him a small smile. “Torture the fucker,” I snap.

  “Trista,” Avah whispers.

  “Torture him,” I repeat. “He doesn’t deserve to breathe another day.”

  Turning my back to him, I make my way over to Avah. “He’s a sick motherfucker,” I retort.

  She nods, reaching out, she takes my hand. “What about the clients he had? We need to find them, because they certainly don’t need to walk the streets.”

  Looking over my shoulder, I watch as Ridge and a couple of the guys drag Layne away. Hawk hasn’t moved, his eyes focused on me and Avah, but mostly Avah. With him right in front of me, I see the way he’s looking at her and I can’t pretend to deny it anymore.

  My father is definitely in love with my best friend.

  There’s a moment of silence, I think about her words and she’s right. We don’t need to end just him, we need those other sick fucks that are hurting these girls gone too. I know we won’t ever be able to rid the world
of all the men like this, but I think we could eliminate some and sleep a little better at night.

  Avah clears her throat, then takes a couple steps forward, standing between me and my father. “I can get into his house, his computer and his files. He won’t have these at his office. I remember him telling me once that he kept certain client files at his home just in case his office was ever raided. I didn’t understand at the time…”

  Dragon jerks his chin in the air toward Hawk. “Let’s go get what we can and end him. Then you and Avah can go to LA and work on that list while Worm finishes up this one.”

  “When did we become vigilantes?” Mountain asks, walking through the door.

  Dragon chuckles. “I guess the moment those Donkey Punchers threatened to kill our families.”

  Mountain smirks. “Works for me. Some sick perverts get capped, doesn’t hurt my feelings one fuckin’ bit,” he barks.

  Dragon, Mountain, and Hawk turn and walk away, leaving me and Avah alone in the bar. Slowly, Avah turns around to look at me. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and watches me for a moment before she speaks.

  “I knew he had clients that were into kinky shit,” she whispers.

  “He was trying to buy girls, not women, girls,” I point out.

  Avah shakes her head. “I didn’t know that, trust me, I didn’t know.”

  Tears fill her eyes and I can’t stay where I am. My feet quickly move, carrying me toward my best friend. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her while she cries. We stay that way until the men start to file back into the bar.

  Hawk gently takes her from my arms. Ridge wordlessly scoops me up in his arms and carries me toward our room. He slams the door behind us and unceremoniously drops me on the bed. Lifting my eyes up to meet his, I’m not surprised to see him covered in dirt, grease, and blood.

  “I told you to go to our room,” he growls.

  Licking my lips, I smile up at him. “You knew I wouldn’t. Especially not when I saw Layne being dragged in.”

  He shakes his head once, his angry gaze softening a bit as he watches me. “You’re angry because I had contact with him, because I trusted him to keep me safe, not because I didn’t go to our room when you demanded it,” I state.

  He grunts.

  Standing, I walk over to him, placing my palms on his chest. “I would have killed him right there if one of you would have handed me a gun, or if I had a knife in my hand,” I admit, speaking softly.

  Ridge’s lips twitch. “I know,” he rasps as he lifts one of his hands, tangling his dirty fingers in the back of my hair. I can wash it later, right now, the feel of his grip anywhere on my body is what I need.

  “I’m here, with you. I love you, Ridge. My devil.”

  His lips turn up into a big smile before he slants his head to the side. Lowering his face, he touches his mouth to mine. His tongue slips inside, tasting all of me before he breaks the kiss, his arms wrap around my back and roughly pull me against his chest.

  “I love you more than you could know, babe. Don’t know why you want me, and I ain’t questioning shit. All I know is, I’m keeping you until the day I fuckin’ die.”

  “Always, Ridge. I’ve been yours since I was nineteen and I’ll always be yours.”

  “Damn fuckin’ straight.”

  About the Author

  As an only child, Hayley Faiman had to entertain herself somehow. She started writing stories at the age of six and never really stopped.

  Born in California, she met her now husband at the age of sixteen and married him at the age of twenty in 2004. After all of these years together, he’s still the love of her life.

  She lives in the Hill Country of Texas with her family and a Chocolate Labrador named Optimus Prime.

  Most of Hayley’s days are spent taking care of her two boys, going to sports practices, or helping them with homework. Her evenings are spent with her husband and her nights—those are spent creating alpha book boyfriends.