This Savage Love: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set

by Kathryn Thomas

  Alex looked frazzled and defeated, and Krishna knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. Whatever he was hiding, it haunted him. But she was beyond caring. If he couldn’t share his troubled thoughts and couldn’t stand up for her against Pop and the rest of the bastards he called family, she didn’t need him.

  “Do you have anything to say, Alex? Anything that’ll convince me this isn’t a selfish, cowardly move to dodge a deep, committed relationship?”

  “It’s not selfish, Krishna. In fact, ending things between us is the most selfless thing I’ve ever done. I’d rather die than walk away from you, but I don’t have that option.” He was struggling, and Krishna wished she cared. She turned off her feelings so she would break down in front of him and gave him a hard look. “Please don’t hate me.”

  But his plea fell on deaf ears and a frozen heart that would shatter when she was alone. For now, she made her face a mask of stoicism. “You know what, Alex? You made promises to me, and I trusted you. I’m grateful for the time we’ve had, and more so for the fact that you saved my life and my spirit when your heathen brothers wanted to destroy me. But I don’t need you here, constantly going back and forth. I need stability in my life, and all you do is keep me on edge, wondering whose side you’re taking from one day to the next. So, have a wonderful life with those men who have no respect for women and obviously no respect for you. Get out of my apartment. I can’t even look at you anymore.”

  Alex was crestfallen, but he merely nodded and left. It was so easy for him, and Krishna hated that even more. As soon as she heard the motor on his bike roar to life, she let go, collapsing on the couch and sobbing so hard her body ached with the convulsions. She cried until her eyes were dry of tears and she was too exhausted to continue, and she fell asleep, already regretting her harsh words and at the same time wishing she’d never laid eyes on Alex.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Crumpling up yet another screwed up drawing, Alex tossed the paper angrily into the trashcan and glared at the blank page in front of him. His jaw clenched in irritation, he slashed the pencil across it in sharp lines with such force it indented the paper, and he knew he’d be starting over in a minute or so. He was burning through supplies like a three pack a day smoker burned through cigarettes. He couldn’t focus, and his designs were shit.

  After three weeks, he still couldn’t get Krishna’s face out of his mind. Her final words, spoken in pain and anger, were burned into his memory, and they circled in his head over and over, her crestfallen expression haunting his dreams. He put on a good show around the rest of the Ashes, but whenever he was alone, he turned into a hot mess and felt his sanity slipping.

  He’d occupied himself as much as possible, throwing himself into the biker lifestyle. The weekends had been perfect for long, aimless rides, enjoying the wind in his hair, the sun on his skin, and the rumble of his bike beneath him. Nights were spent playing pool or poker or drinking his sadness away. But the poison of loss and loneliness continued to spread through his body, and he was rotting away, leaving him little more than an empty shell.

  And that shell filled with anger now as he sat at his drawing desk outside under the carport, working on a design for Cole, one of the boys who had just finished paying off his debt to Pop. His bail had been hefty, based on three felonies, and it had taken a long time and more frequent runs than most made, but he was finally free and clear and wanted to celebrate. He’d given Alex license to do a piece that was, at his own discretion, something he thought would be a symbol of strength and triumph over the odds. Usually, that sort of creative license would have excited him and sparked his interest. But Alex couldn’t seem to get his shit together to come up with a suitable drawing.

  Every time he started on something that seemed appropriate, the idea that was forming fell flat, or he couldn’t seem to get the proportions right. He looked at the wastebasket, which was full to the top of wadded up drawing paper, and he cursed himself for wasting so much of it. He wasn’t made of money, and if he kept wasting his supplies, he’d have to start charging more for the designs. He didn’t want to do that, since the club was supposedly his family. Unfortunately, he felt less and less connected to them with each passing day, ever since their harsh judgment and prejudice against Krishna.

  And that wasn’t even touching on the heinous crime some of them had committed against her.

  It didn’t matter that Damien was outcast. Rumors put him out on the California coast, but Alex couldn’t be sure and didn’t really care. The asshole was forbidden to communicate with anyone in the club for any reason, and that suited Alex just fine. But the men who had followed the ringleader eagerly still had a bad attitude and slipped in snide comments now and then when no one else was listening, just to drive the stake deeper into Alex’s heart.

  He was starting to question himself, ask himself why he continued to show such loyalty to a bunch of traitorous men who didn’t show him the same respect. If his so-called brothers had cared as much about him as he did them, they never would have voted to ban Krishna. It was fine if they didn’t want her around the clubhouse; she hadn’t wanted to come back anyway, and though Alex had fought against that at first, he’d decided it was probably for the best. She was in too much danger here.

  But to demand he couldn’t see her anymore was taking things too far. His personal life was no one’s business from his, and he was livid at the need to control him in such a way. He knew it was partially punishment for the way he’d reacted to their violent attempt to gang rape Krishna, but any decent man would have done the same thing. Pop agreeing and enforcing the rule with a threat to put a hit out on Krishna was unacceptable.

  Because he would rather know Krishna was safe somewhere than hold her in his arms while she faded away, Alex had cracked under the pressure and done what the club asked. Pop wouldn’t let him leave, and he couldn’t see another way around the inevitable consequences, so he’d done what he thought was best.

  But he questioned that now. If it had been the right thing to do, he shouldn’t feel so terrible. He shouldn’t be riddled with guilt, filled with longing, and so overwhelmed with rage and resentment toward the gang that he wanted to burn down the whole damn clubhouse with everyone locked inside. It all blended together in his chest so his lungs ached with labored breathing, and his stomach churned, nausea constantly from what he now realized was a poor judgment call. The problem was, he didn’t know what to do now. He couldn’t change the situation now. He didn’t dare risk having Pop’s dogs called in by checking up on Krishna. And he couldn’t just show up at her doorstep with flowers after the way he’d left things anyway. She’d laugh in his face and cut the flowers into potpourri.

  But he wanted desperately to rectify things, and while he wished he could just live his life without interference, he didn’t think he’d be able to win her back no matter how hard tried. He just wanted to apologize, know she didn’t hate him. That would, at least, settle his soul a bit. He didn’t expect to feel relieved or peaceful, only that he had a little closure.

  “You look like you just watched someone skin your cat alive before chopping it to bits and using it for stew meat.”

  Alex looked up at Rusty with hatred oozing from every pore. The man had been an active participant in everything that had happened to Krishna and the ensuing punishments. He could hardly stand to be within ten feet of Rusty, and the fact that the man had entered his personal space pissed him off. “I don’t have a cat,” he said gruffly, turning back to the page with the deep line drawn across it.

  “Hey, I came to talk to you, bro.” Alex still didn’t look up and nearly got up to walk away as Rusty straddled one of the chairs in the makeshift office. “I wanted to apologize.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “I’m serious,” Rusty told him, his tone imploring. “Can you just hear me out for a minute?”

  Rotating his chair, Alex glared at him. “You have sixty seconds. Go.”

  With a sigh, the guy hu
ng his head. “Look, man, I’m sorry for what I did. Damien’s a manipulative guy and a strong leader. I spent too much time around him, and since he’s been gone, I realized I should’ve stood up to him rather than let him get to me. The truth is, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, and I wish I could take it back. You’re my brother, and I hate seeing you unhappy because I was stupid.”

  “You and everyone else,” Alex grumbled.

  “I can’t speak for everyone else,” Rusty admitted, “and I probably couldn’t have stopped any of it. But that doesn’t mean I had to go along with it. It was wrong, and for the record, I didn’t vote with the crowd to make you dump her.”

  Alex shook his head. It was too little, too late, and while he appreciated that at least one man was willing to own up to his mistakes, he couldn’t just let it slide. The man in front of him had just proven what a weak will he had, and he wasn’t the only one with character flaws that couldn’t be excused around here. He gave a short nod. “Thanks. It doesn’t change anything, though.”

  “I know.” Rusty hung his head and then met his gaze with haunted eyes. “For what it’s worth, I think Pop crossed a line, and he’s let his position go to his head. You know he’s started doubling his fee for bailing out a prospect?”

  That was news, and not the kind that sat well with Alex, who was already sick to his stomach at the way Pop had changed over the last several months. “When did he do that?”

  Rusty licked his lips several times, a very obvious nervous habit. “At the same time he had us vote on you and the girl.” Alex wanted to threaten a right hook if Rusty couldn’t say her name, but he was focusing his anger in the wrong direction. “It wasn’t something he let us weigh in on, either. It was just a mandate, no questions, no reservations, effective immediately. Brett was the last one in at the old rate. Everyone after him gets the new price.”

  There were three prospects who had come in after Brett under the original contract, and it was dishonest to come in and change that without dispute, since they’d signed on at the original rate of return. Alex was livid at the bait and switch, and he jumped out of his chair. “I’m talking to him, right now.”

  Rusty was on his feet instantly, stepping in front of Alex. It was a foolish thing to do, and Alex leveled a warning glare at him as he pleaded, “You aren’t supposed to know about it, bro. If you do that, you have to be careful not to let him know where you heard it. I can’t take the flack for it. I’m like you, I’ve got nowhere to go if I leave this club.”

  Alex knew he wasn’t the only one stuck in a place he didn’t want to be, but he still couldn’t sympathize with Rusty because he wasn’t a weak follower. He’d always been strong willed, and he’d been told he was the perfect material for a leader. But he scrubbed a hand over his face and told Rusty, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I overheard a conversation this morning about it. Supporters. And it pissed me off.” He said it in an emotionless voice, like he was reading a want ad in the newspaper, but that would be his story. He was just saving his impassioned rage for when he faced Pop.

  With a smile of relief and gratitude, Rusty rushed off, and Alex turned to look over his shoulder one last time at the drawing he was never going to get right as long as he had this beef with Pop. This was his opportunity to throw verbal bombs at his leader that would probably give even the most worldly old woman a heart attack.

  Shoving his tools into the drawers and slamming them shut, he yanked at the lock until it caught and stormed toward the back door of the warehouse that served as headquarters and his home away from home, his purpose clear. Nothing was going to distract him until he’d cleared up some urgent business with Pops.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  Krishna looked up from the desk and the textbook she’d been poring over and gave her mother a broad grin. “I’ll be right there,” she promised and the aging redhead, who still didn’t look a day over thirty, bustled away, probably to set the table and make her daughter a plate.

  Stretching to clear the cramps from hunching over too long, she pulled her hair back from her face and tied the long, dark locks in a knot. Whatever her mother had whipped up smelled delicious, and she hurried to wash her hands and splash some water on her face as her appetite kicked into high gear.

  Krishna had wallowed in self-pity for a full twenty-four hours, and then she’d reached inside to find the strong woman she’d always been. She slept on it and woke up with a renewed determination to move on. She’d started looking for a job, only to find out no one would hire her on as a mechanic without the right schooling. It was discouraging at first, but she’d finally found a place specializing in rare, classic, and foreign autos, as well as motorcycles.

  Stan, the owner, had quizzed her for what seemed like hours, and he’d hired her on as a technician – oil changes, tire rotations and the like – with the promise that she’d get the education she needed to become a certified mechanic. Grateful for the break, Krishna had promised to start immediately, but the cost of the program turned out to be a lot more than she could handle.

  By this time, she was panicked about finances, and she didn’t know what else to do, so she’d come to her parents. She didn’t explain the full situation, unable to make herself admit to the horrifying actions she’d suffered through. But she’d given them enough of an understanding about not being able to go back that she felt more comfortable in having laid the groundwork for her request.

  She’d put together a plan, refusing to take handouts, even from her own parents, that had her paying them back within ten months of her promotion to mechanic, if they could just front her the money for the program now. That meant she’d be debt-free again in just over a year. They’d been upset that she still chose such a laborious and masculine industry, but Krishna’s parents were nothing if not predictable. More worried about her happiness than anything else, they gladly loaned her the money.

  She’d been studying hard for nearly two weeks now, and the first three or four days were miserable. Her apartment felt lonely now that she’d grown used to having Alex around, and everywhere she looked, she saw him, like her memories manifested themselves in corporeal phantoms. That didn’t scare her, but she felt so alone, and the apartment was so empty now, that she couldn’t focus on her lessons and ended up crying every night until her eyes were too red and swollen to read.

  She’d started spending most evenings at her parents’ house, eating her mother’s comfort food for dinner, using the desk to study, and watching ballgames with her father. It had become a routine and, other than sleeping, showering, or having a quick snack, she’d hardly seen her apartment for a week. There was part of her – the part that told her she must still be a naïve child who needed protection from the big, bad world outside – that wanted to give up her lease and just move back in.

  But she wouldn’t give into that desire. She was an adult, and an independent one at that. Just because a few men had defiled her and given her nightmares didn’t mean she had an excuse to crawl inside herself and hide from the world. After two weeks on the job, she’d learned as much in the garage as she did in the classroom, and while she couldn’t work on the cars that came into the shop for anything other than routine maintenance, she shared her knowledge with the other mechanics and showed them as much as they taught her.

  That was an accomplishment, and if she kept up on her schooling, she would be working right alongside them in just about six months. She was moving up in the world, and she didn’t need any favors from people like Pop. Or Alex.

  Alex. He’d been so strong, so perfect. His feelings were tender and raw, and he expressed himself in so few words but with such passion. And in the end, he’d turned out to be the weak one, the one who couldn’t stand up for himself or the woman he said he loved. He’d let his own family – the family he’d chosen for himself to be part of – rule his decisions. And he hadn’t come back since.

  Krishna had finally broken down and told
her mother a little about Alex, and that it hadn’t worked out. She didn’t explain the circumstances, only saying that they were from two different places that didn’t mesh well together. That would have been a lie a month ago, but Krishna had watched Alex cave under pressure. That was something she never did, and that had ended up slicing right through their compatibility.

  Shaking off the pain that sometimes crept up on her without warning, Krishna sat down at the dining room table where her father already was, and her mother brought in the food.

  “Oh, shepherd’s pie!” she said excitedly as her mother put individual pies in front of each of them. It was Krishna’s favorite traditional Irish dish, and she had a lot of difficulty waiting for all three of them to be seated. It was tradition – her mother served everybody, and no one took a single bite until they were all settled. The flaky crust, potent vegetables, tender chicken, and salty gravy exploded in her mouth with every bite, and Krishna rolled her eyes in delight. Pointing at it with her fork, Krishna nodded and told her mother, “This is incredible. I think it’s the best you’ve ever made.”