This Savage Love: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set

by Kathryn Thomas

  With her soiled uniform wadded up in one hand and determination in her step, Krishna marched into G-Mart. She’d always known this day would come, and she was ready to say some choice words to Rita. Maybe the next candidate for Horrible Bosses would think twice about how she treated her other employees from now on.

  As she rounded the corner and came up to the registers, several of her soon to be former coworkers stopped what they were doing to stare, obviously interested in what was going on. “Psst,” she heard someone trying to catch her attention. She turned to see Stacy beckoning to her.

  Stacy was confusing. She’d been at G-Mart even longer than Krishna, and she hated it just as much. At the same time, she was lucky enough – or maybe cursed, depending on how you looked at it – to have made head cashier. She was up for another promotion soon, but Krishna didn’t think Stacy really wanted it. It just meant being closer to Rita.

  “What’s going on?” she asked in a stage whisper. “Are you quitting? Did you find another job?”

  Krishna had the conversation several times with Stacy about how miserable she was and how badly she wanted to tell their boss what to do with herself when she left for good. She saw the excitement on Stacy’s face now as she nodded and smiled. The familiar squeak of the office door let everyone know Rita had come out of hiding and was probably ready to explode at the sight of two employees fraternizing on the sales floor, especially since Krishna wasn’t in uniform.

  “What’s going on out here?” Rita demanded, her face red. Was that rage or embarrassment at the insubordinate actions of her cashiers? Everyone remained silent and kept their head down except for Krishna and Stacy. They both glared right at Rita. “Would someone please explain to me why Krishna, who is supposed to be on the clock in five minutes, is not dressed and is standing at someone else’s register, distracting people and having a chit chat like we’re at afternoon tea?” she hissed.

  Krishna tried not to laugh as Stacy snorted. Rita’s Brooklyn accent came out hardcore when she was this upset, and she also sounded genuinely lost as to why she didn’t have complete control over her department in that moment. She walked toward Krishna, who hadn’t moved, and stood there with her hands on her hips. To Stacy, she barked, “You, get back to work!”

  Instantly sobered, Stacy nodded and gestured for Krishna to back off the register. She complied. After all, Stacy didn’t have another job lined up. But now that the monster had made a scene, Krishna had every intention of truly humiliating the woman. “Why are you such a bitch to everyone?” she asked, and everyone near enough to hear her gasped.

  “Excuse me?” Rita looked like her eyes might pop out of her head, and Krishna was reminded of those bug-eyed teacup Chihuahuas.

  “Did I stutter?” Krishna asked. Copping an attitude of her own with hands on her hips, she said, “You heard me loud and clear, Rita. I asked why you’re such a bitch to the people who work for you. We’re the people who do the dirty jobs you don’t, the ones who make you look good with our numbers and performance. Yet, you stomp on us like offensive little insects and expect us to feel motivated. You can’t do that and expect us to want to do a good job. One day, it’s going to come back tenfold to bite you in the ass, and you won’t have any help when you need it most.” Looking into Rita’s eyes now, Krishna wondered why she’d ever feared the woman. It was Rita who was scared. And that was why she was such a mean, hateful person.

  Rita just stood there for a minute, completely dumbfounded, while some of the other cashiers began to laugh and murmur amongst themselves. No one had stood up to her before, at least, since Krishna had been there, and she didn’t seem to handle it well. When she recovered her ability to speak, she was quick and sharp with her tongue. “I hope you understand that you’ll never work here again, Krishna. You’re to leave immediately and not come back. And I want this to serve as a lesson to the rest of you. Respect your superiors, or suffer the consequences. I hope you enjoy being unemployed. Now, give me the uniform.” Rita had talked herself up and looked proudly at Krishna as she fired her and attempted to put her in her place.

  Krishna scoffed and practically threw the ball of clothes at her. “Don’t you think my intention was to quit coming in here with those awful clothes wadded in my hand? I’m not unemployed, Rita. I found something better than this lousy job, working for a miserable boss and lousy pay. Keep treating everyone like you do, and all you’ll have is a bunch of dirty work uniforms. So, sorry to burst your bubble, but you can’t fire me. I quit.”

  Turning before Rita could respond, Krishna walked up to Stacy for a goodbye hug. “That was brilliant,” her friend whispered in her ear.

  “Thank you,” Krishna told her. “Promise me you won’t make a career out of this place. You deserve better.”

  With a wink, Stacy said, “Of course not! I’m almost finished with my degree, and I’ll get to teach English as a second language to kids. I’ve got one foot out the door already.”

  “Good! Give me a call sometime.” Krishna turned on her heel, waving over her shoulder as she exited. She doubted she would ever shop at any G-Mart again. Her new life awaited, and she was eager to start it as she slipped behind the wheel of her Riviera and drove home. She needed to get ready for the big welcome she expected when she arrived at the warehouse to join the Ashes. She let out a whoop as she drove away, being a cashier now just a bad memory.

  ***

  Killing the engine, Krishna looked herself over before entering the warehouse that served as home base for the Ashes. She opted for comfortable jeans and a t-shirt, topped with a fitted jean jacket. She dug out her favorite combat boots, bought second-hand and stuffed into her closet for just the right occasion. She felt enthusiastic and genuine as she walked into the building for the first time, regardless of whether or not her choice of clothing fit in with her surroundings.

  She took a deep breath as she crossed the threshold and found Rob there to greet her at the door. He was in what seemed to be his typical attire, and Krishna wondered just how many skullcaps he had. He seemed jovial, and she suspected the celebration of her new membership had started a little early without her. Beer cans were everywhere, including piled in a mountain that rose over the top of the enormous trash barrel.

  Considering it was a warehouse, the space was a little cramped, and it was fairly crowded. She saw maybe two or three dozen men but relatively few women. The ones she saw were blond or had pink or blue hair, and they wore leather miniskirts with piercings in creative places. None of them looked the slightest bit like her, but then, those women weren’t the mechanics.

  As Rob led her toward the back of the bar, she caught sight of two women sliding their hands up and down one of the men and whispering in his ear, while he remained quiet and thoughtful. A small smile curled his lips a time or two, but they didn’t last. It was strange to watch, but something about him fascinated Krishna and kept drawing her eyes back to him.

  Some of the men were older, and several of them looked worse for the wear, but this guy was still smooth, muscular, and younger. He, too, was covered in tattoos, but they were prettier, cleaner, and in better taste than what she could see from most of the other members. Out of nowhere, he glanced up and over at her, and she caught a quick glimpse of liquid amber eyes before turning away and covering a gasp.

  Rob gave an ear piercing whistle to call everyone’s attention, and all eyes fell on Krishna. It was time for introductions. “Hey, guys, put down your beers and let go of your women. You have all night to get shit-faced and laid. I need five minutes of your time to make an announcement.”

  He wavered on his feet as he draped an arm around Krishna’s shoulders, confirming he’d had a few beers. “This here is our new mechanic and the newest member of the crew. Her name’s Krishna, and she just saved me a fortune fixing my bike. And did better work than those assholes up the road. Now, I think we need to make a toast and get her marked. Who’s with me on this one?”

  “Yeah, Pop!” Krishna heard the sam
e roar from most of the crowd, and everyone picked up the nearest drink to knock it back as they cheered. Krishna had the feeling some of those drinks didn’t belong to the drinkers, but no one seemed to care, and within seconds, she had two beers, one in each hand. She tried to knock them both back like everyone else, and the first one went down smooth to the roar of the crowd. But she got a little hung up on the second one. She wasn’t uptight. She’d just never been much of a drinker or partier, and she wasn’t so practiced at it. But though she’d never bothered to try to fit in anywhere before, being a bit of a loner, she needed to do so here in the club.

  And it wasn’t like she didn’t have something to celebrate. Why shouldn’t she take a night off from her regular mundane existence and get a little reckless? She’d earned the right to enjoy herself, and the atmosphere practically demanded it as it seeped into her veins.

  She was sort of shuffled around the room and found herself meeting a lot of people. She pinpointed the skeptics right away because they drilled her with questions to test her knowledge. Others were friendly and welcoming, the way people got in a bar after a few drinks. And more didn’t seem to warm up to her. Some of the latter kept to themselves, or once they’d said hello, refused to join in conversation or activity wherever she was. Krishna shrugged it off as par for the course. She didn’t fit the profile here – a female mechanic of East Indian descent. But she would prove herself, and she knew that when those guys giving her the cold shoulder needed work on their bikes, they wouldn’t be so hesitant to come to her.

  She finally wandered over to the billiards tables and spent a few minutes watching two guys battling it out in a very close game of Straight Pool. A woman with black and pink hair seemed to be cheering them both on, and Krishna laughed to herself, wondering if she was going to go home with the winner. But where Krishna stood, she was only a few feet away from the man with the amber eyes, and she had a strange feeling that he was staring at her. She’d look over, and they would lock gazes awkwardly for a split second, and then she would cut her eyes away.

  She hated being caught staring. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. He was mysterious and silent, and yet, he seemed to effortlessly make some of the toughest looking women fall all over him. Something about him was mesmerizing, watching him say two or three words at most while he flirted mostly with his hands and his devastating smile. And somehow, he had them begging for more.

  For some reason, Krishna found herself imagining what it would be like to have him wrap his arms around her instead of those other girls. Or if he brushed against her arm with a knowing smile and a wink. She’d never been the type to get all gooey eyed over a man, and the one boyfriend she’d had in high school was such a disappointment she wondered why she bothered. But this guy was getting to her, and that scared her a little.

  Krishna forced her gaze back to the game of pool as the guy got up and wandered toward the cooler of beer on the other side of her. His scent filled her nostrils, and the musk was hypnotizing. He paused and looked at her for a moment as if sizing her up, and then he nodded. “A female mechanic. That’s quite impressive. You must have really done something great to get Pops to believe in you.” His amber gaze pierced her as he locked eyes on her, like knives stabbing through to her soul. His dirty blond hair shone under the chandelier light overhead, and Krishna nearly choked trying to figure out how to respond.

  Of course, it would have helped if she could process the fact that the tattooed god was actually speaking to her and stood close enough for her to reach out and touch him. Her fingertips itched to do it, and she balled her hands into fists to control the urge.

  She let the comment pass unanswered, and he took a breath and finished the conversation before it even began. “I look forward to working with you, Krishna. I’m Alex, the tattoo guy. Come get me before you leave so I can mark you up.” His statement was matter-of-fact, and then he was gone, whisking past her and leaving a trail of musk in his wake.

  When she finally caught her breath, Krishna turned and, to her disappointment, saw Alex heading out of the room with those two women. She’d missed her chance.

  If she’d ever even had one.

  With a sigh, she slumped against the wall, disappointed in herself. She was a mechanic now and part of a respected and sometimes feared motorcycle club. So why couldn’t she make herself talk to a hot guy?

  A familiar sound from the other side of the warehouse distracted her, and she followed it to a television that had been turned on. A couple of guys sat in front of it with beers, watching a baseball game. She saw a free seat on a black beanbag chair on the floor and snatched it up, feeling like it was meant for her. It was hard to believe that, for once, she was going to get to watch the game live. The Cubs were playing the Diamondbacks tonight, in the first of another three-game series, and she watched for Rizzo, who was most likely to hit a home run.

  To her delight, he knocked it out of the park, and when she jumped and hollered in celebration, she wasn’t alone. Several of the other men were whooping and shouting in triumph as well, and she was so caught up in the moment she almost missed a new addition to the crowd.

  But as she turned to fix the beanbag and sit back down, Alex stood there with a strange half smile and his hair a little mussed. He looked even sexier that way.

  “”So, are you ready for that tattoo now?” he asked.

  His voice was rich and his tone was light and taunting, and if she’d had the courage, Krishna would have just kissed him right there. As it was, all she could manage was an answer. “Sure.” She nodded and followed him back in the direction he’d left with the other women. Her heart beat fast and heavy in her chest as the noise from the main space died, plunging them into silence. It didn’t take long for her to realize what that meant.

  They were alone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They walked down a long hall with doors that led to what Krishna assumed were offices before whatever company renting this building had moved out. But all she could focus on in the moment was being so close to Alex in a dark space. She could hear him breathing – could hear herself breathing, for that matter – and they fell into the same rhythm. Finally, he opened a door, stepped into an office, and flicked the switch. The light came on and broke the spell, and Krishna quickly reminded herself that she’d seen him walking out with two women earlier. That meant he wasn’t the kind of man she wanted any involvement with, and she wasn’t his kind of girl.

  She looked around the room and noted that Alex had turned this into a tattoo studio. There was an adjustable chair right in the middle of the room, just like she would imagine in a parlor. “It’s your turn in the hot seat,” Alex said gruffly, winking and motioning to the chair.

  Well, there was half her fantasy right there. Was he flirting with her, or was that just his personality? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that her heart wouldn’t cooperate with her instructions as she settled into the chair and leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. She knew this guy was trouble. It was written all over him like the tattoos he wore. But her heartbeat fluttered every time he got close or she smelled him.

  Trying to calm herself, she asked, “So, is this some sort of initiation ritual?” Maybe some innocent conversation would help her relax and forget just how attractive he was. She glanced over to find him cleaning and setting up his gun with a fresh needle. She actually started to feel like she was at the dentist, which took away the surreal feeling of being at a motorcycle club, ready to get stamped with some permanent artwork.

  “The tattoo?” he asked. “Yeah. We all have the club name. Usually a shoulder. It means you’re a member for life, like brothers.” He was a man of few words, succinct, but he spoke with passion as he rolled his chair over to her, gun in hand.

  “That was a great speech. Very deep and motivational. But I actually meant the part where you bring girls back here in the dark and put them in a dentist’s chair,” she joked with a sly smile.

  He looked complet
ely unamused before cracking a smile. “Where did Pops find you?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked. Something about his tone made her nervous.

  But he shook his head. “You’re a piece of work. Not like the other girls here.” He tugged on her jacket. “Off.”

  Krishna wriggled out of it, draping it over the back of the chair. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asked quietly as he drew the neck of her t-shirt down to expose the part of her shoulder where she intended to do the work.

  “Depends on the angle,” he replied, rubbing her down with alcohol. An hour ago, she would have wrinkled her nose at the thought of the cleansing and laughed at the idea of it being a turn on, but something about his tender touch on her bare skin was sensual and arousing. If she was like the other girls, she would have just thrown herself at him right there. But she wasn’t, and maybe that’s what Alex meant.

  Krishna tried to slow her breathing and ignore the tension she felt growing between the two of them. “What’s this tattoo going to look like?” she asked, changing the subject and filling the silence.

  She expected a verbal response, but instead he stood with a purposeful look and drew the hem of his black shirt up to reveal a perfect six pack underneath. He let her look for a minute as she searched, and then he turned his back to her. He had been teasing her, and she was embarrassed as she noted the tattoo right in the middle of a back covered in more tattoos.