SAVAGE: The Kingwood Duet

by Scott, S. L.

  His life is full of lies—the kind he tells and the ones he lives. Lies that have become mine and will haunt me as I learn to live without him. Those lies still haunt me as if they are mine to survive.

  He once told me he would give me the life I dreamed about—the ending I deserved—a happy ending—but with rocks cutting into my skin and a stranger kicking the life from me, I start to wonder if all hope is lost.

  Until I hear that familiar sound—the distinctive sound of a custom Harley exhaust foreshadowing my knight in shining armor. Peace settles over me when I see Alexander.

  It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since I’ve seen him.

  It doesn’t matter what bad has happened between us.

  Our love will never die, even if I do.

  “I told you he’d come for us.”

  Knowing he’ll be here soon, I close my eyes, and dream of the fairy tale we almost had . . .

  Tires screeching to a stop follow shortly after. I’m too weak to lift my head, but the scuffle of shoes from people rushing around me rings clear. Cruise rushes to Alexander’s side. Someone else comes into view. Jason. Why is Jason here?

  My gaze falls to Alexander as shock overwhelms him. His hands go to his hair. “What the fuck?”

  “Don’t,” I whisper, not wanting to see his tears, but I don’t think he hears me. Did I even say that out loud?

  With tears streaming through the lines of anger on his face, he stands firm with his gun held straight out. Only bad will come of this. The flash of light and the loud gunfire should startle me, but my heart is too weak to react.

  Dropping to his knees in front of me, he lifts me into his arms. Contentment. I’m home.

  “Firefly. Sara Jane. Stay with me. Stay with me.”

  In his arms I’m home.

  “Don’t cry, not over me.”

  “Help me, Cruise,” he yells, looking up. The abrupt action causes one of his tears to fall between my lips. “Fuck. Help her. Help her.”

  I swallow, wanting anything that is my Alexander. He rocks back on his feet and carries me to the car. “You’re gonna be okay, baby. I promise you.”

  I hate seeing him broken again, broken like when I met him. I’m curled on his lap when the door is closed and the tires squeal. “You lied.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  My cheeks feel lighter when I look at him. “No, you lied . . . first time we ever met.”

  “What’d I lie about, baby?”

  “You whispered . . . right in my ear. ‘I don’t need anything.’ You lied, Alexander. Because . . . you needed me.”

  “I need you. Stay with me, and I’ll never lie to you again.” His voice is muffled as if distance has settled in when he yells, “Is he dead? Jesus fucking Christ, don’t let Chad be dead.”

  “Alexander?”

  “What baby?”

  “Tell me something happy.”

  His body is wracked with the sobs he’s fighting to hold in and the tears he can’t control any longer. I wait patiently as if I have time to spare. My world begins to spin, like my thoughts, when he says, “You gave me a reason to live when all I wanted to do was die.”

  No, you can’t die. “Live for me.”

  “There is no life without you, Firefly.”

  Using all my efforts, I smile. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” he says, stroking my cheek. A slash of blood colors his forehead but I know it’s not his. I start to shiver.

  Cold.

  So cold.

  “I love you. I’ll save you. I promise I’ll save you.”

  “Let me go, Alexander.” I close my eyes. “I’m tired.”

  “Don’t go to sleep. Stay with me. Drive fucking faster, Cruise.”

  He didn’t shave. There’s just enough stubble to make me smile as my fingertips graze over and fall away, my arm not feeling my own anymore. “Alexander,” I mouth, his name a breath across my lips. “Let me go.”

  “I promise. I’ll get help. I’m never letting you go, Firefly.”

  “I’m already gone.” The sun’s too bright, so I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat, considering how great my life was.

  His palm comforts my cheek, and he strains to hold back his devastation. “Listen to me. Focus on me, baby.” I look into his eyes as he holds my complete attention like he always held my heart. “You once asked me why you. Why I picked you. It was always you for me. I was just lucky enough that you chose me. Do you hear me? I’m the lucky one.”

  “It’s been good. So good living this life with you.” My throat feels dry, but I try to speak, for him. I try because the boy I watched become a man needs to hear it. “You were always destined for greatness. Live up to your name. Be the king I know you can be.”

  “Only if you’ll be there with me. You were born to be queen. My queen, baby. Stay with me.”

  “I can’t make that promise . . . but the ride was good. We were good. So good.”

  So cold. So tired.

  “Don’t you leave me. Don’t you fucking leave me, Sara Jane.”

  “You promised me a ride. I got the ride of a lifetime.”

  “No. No, Sara Jane. Please stay with me.” Kisses cover my forehead, the rest of my body already numb to touch and feelings. His body shakes, his hand brushing the hair away from my face as he kisses me with his tears and anguish. “You’re going to make it. Damn you. Don’t give up on me.”

  I could never. “I always believed in you.” How I love him. “You were always meant to reign, my sweet King.”

  “Don’t call me that. I’m Alexander for you. Alexander.”

  I smile but wonder if it touches my lips. My body is cocooned in his arms when realization dawns on me as my world begins to blur. “I’m going to die, Alexander.”

  “No. Stay awake, baby. Fight. Stay with me.” Sobs wrack his body as he holds me to him. “Don’t leave me here without you.”

  Beyond what savage light he brings, to me, he was everything. With the last ounce of my energy, I force my eyes open and look at my tarnished angel. I would give up a sky full of stars for one more night in his darkness. Maybe I already did. Maybe this is me holding up my end of the bargain. Reaching up, I try to touch his face once more, once more to feel his skin beneath mine, but my body’s already given up. “Our baby would have been handsome, just like you.”

  His body stills and he stares down at me, his eyes a brighter blue through the tears. “Our babies will be beautiful like their mother. So strong. You’re the strongest, bravest person I know, Firefly.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

  “We’re so close, Sara Jane. I need you to hang on a few more minutes. We’re almost there.”

  I can’t tell if it’s his or my tears streaking down my cheek anymore, the numbness spreading everywhere but where I want. I hate how empty I feel, my baby gone before he was given a chance. “The baby. I’m sorry for losing our baby.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I need rest.” I’m shaken awake, the world quieter when I open my eyes this time. “I’m so tired. Please.”

  “Baby. No. No. No. Don’t leave me. You’re my queen. Always my queen.” His lips move, but the words are barely heard. When I can’t seem to summon my words, his lips press to mine, and I savor the sweet pressure. “I love you.”

  There comes an acceptance when you’re given the chance to let go on your own terms. I wouldn’t have chosen this ending, but now that I’m here, I find peace wrapped in love that will last long after this life. My body disconnects, my worries for him are finally released, my chest feeling lighter. Sunlight streams in through the window, trying to distract me from what I want to see. As I look at Alexander, I can’t take away his pain. If I were stronger I’d make it go away, keep his soul the lighter of the two. But I’m not.

  Acceptance.

  My heart refuses to leave its confines. A slow, steady beat still knocks against my chest. He always had a way o
f making me feel so much more of everything—life, happiness, sadness, anger, joy. Love. So much love.

  He was my savior and my death, but love in its purest form. He kisses my face. Gentle and rough, determined, and full of passion, fitting of the man giving them. I smile, content with this life.

  We’re jolted forward, but the chaos is calm to my sleepy mind. His voice the only thing I hear. “Don’t leave me.”

  When his lips touch mine, I whisper, “I will always . . . always be with you.” I take my last breath and then slowly exhale. “I love—”

  To be continued in book 2 - SAVIOR August 2017

  Preorder your copy of SAVIOR, Book 2 of the captivating Kingwood Duet and continue this all consuming epic story as soon as it releases. CLICK HERE

  SAVIOR

  Preorder your copy of SAVIOR, Book 2 of the captivating Kingwood Duet and continue this all consuming epic story as soon as it releases. CLICK HERE

  Add to your Goodreads HERE

  Turn the page to get a sneak peek of one of Scott’s bestselling romantic suspense novels, Missing Grace.

  Part I

  Missing Grace PROLOGUE

  Ben Edwards

  He remembered, almost like it was yesterday. It wasn’t, but he relived every second of that morning like it was, hoping to find the one clue he missed . . .

  She opened the door, but stopped before leaving. Large tears clouded the beautiful hazel eyes he could describe from memory. Every color reflected a different emotion, and he loved that he could read her so clearly. This morning the colors were blurred like their emotions. “I’ve got to go or I’ll miss my flight.” Her tone was remorseful and hurt, and he hated it. “Are you really going to let me leave like this, Ben?” A little stupid and a lot hurt, he didn’t reply. “We’ll talk later. I love you.”

  Like his attention, he withheld something he had always given her so freely, dead set on proving a point to her. He felt weak under the weight of the argument they just had. She would hear how wounded he was if he spoke, as the sound of his heart breaking would be evident in his voice.

  He couldn’t have that.

  Ben had never demanded it be this year or even the next. He just wanted their relationship to be a priority in her life again. It was the promotion this year, but another opportunity would come the next, and where would that leave them? He had always been supportive. He wanted nothing more than for her to have the success she’d worked so hard for, but at what price?

  The life they had planned together?

  Him?

  This time he would hold strong and remain silent. He would let her walk out without telling her how much he loved her and watch her go to the cab. Her shoulder-length chestnut-colored hair moved over her neck when she turned and looked up. The smile was faint, but he caught it.

  Guilt settled in the longer he stood there, long past when the taxi had pulled away from the curb. It wouldn’t change anything if he went to work, but he went anyway.

  By the time he sat down at his desk to start on a new building design in Loyal Heights, he couldn’t take it. It was only an argument. That’s all. There had been others, and they had always resolved and recovered in the past. He was being hardheaded and could admit it, so he got online and ordered flowers. He wanted them waiting in her hotel room when she walked in. He wanted her to know he was sorry. She often said they had forever, and she was right. It was dumb to fight over something they had a lifetime to figure out.

  They were getting married in a month. That was the continuance of the forever they already shared. She’d have the flowers for the three days they’d be apart and then he would shower her with more when she got home. She deserved it. He’d make it up to her so she felt cherished and heard. God, he missed her already.

  Four hours passed.

  Four hours. She didn’t call when she landed, so he called her instead and left a message. “I was an ass. I’m sorry. I love you. Call me.”

  Four hours and fifteen minutes.

  There was no use in trying to work. He couldn’t focus on the blueprint in front of him, so he called again and left another message. “I’m sorry. Call me.”

  Five hours.

  “Hey, just checking on you. I thought you were going to Chicago, but maybe I’ve got an old schedule. Call me as soon as you land.”

  Five hours and thirty minutes.

  “Call me. I’m starting to worry.” He had been worried, but he didn’t want to sound like a psycho for worrying too soon.

  Six hours.

  A bad feeling sank from his heart into the pit of his stomach. Sitting at his laptop, he looked up the schedule she sent last week in an email. Locating today’s date, he said, “Chicago,” confirming what he thought. Plugging her flight number into the airline site, there were no delays listed. The plane, in fact, had landed on time. Landed on time, three words that echoed through his mind.

  She should have landed.

  She should have turned her phone on.

  She should have called by now.

  None of those things had occurred.

  Obtaining the hotel’s number from the email, he called.

  “No, sir, she hasn’t checked in.”

  The verification crushed his hope. A few excuses of consolation came—traffic was bad today with the rain and worsening conditions—but they didn’t comfort him. “We’ll give her this message when she arrives.”

  Ben felt ill. Something was wrong. He knew it, felt it deep down. He needed to hear her voice . . . to know she was okay.

  That opportunity never came.

  She never called Ben.

  Her cell phone was never turned back on.

  She never checked in to her hotel room.

  She never arrived to her business meetings.

  Her family and best friend never heard from her again.

  Grace was gone, and Ben was left to exist in what remained of their life.

  She’d disappeared into thin air.

  Vanished . . .

  1

  Ben Edwards

  Grace was gone and Ben became a shell of the man he used to be.

  Looking . . .

  He kept his phone by his side twenty-four/seven.

  No one received a letter.

  The local post office requested he leave more than once.

  No one found out what happened.

  He never found the peace associated with acceptance. After being told to sit tight for the most painful forty-eight hours of his life, he couldn’t wait any longer and went to Chicago. He refused to give her up without a full-fledged fight. There was no way she disappeared without any witnesses. He would find them. If it took years, he would find her. Ben filed a missing person report as soon as he landed. He prayed she was alive. Praying was something he didn’t do much, but he did then.

  He doesn’t anymore.

  That went to the wayside along with hope over the course of three years. Grief didn’t strike once. It devastated your heart and your hope over and over again, beating it down until nothing remained of it. Not even yourself.

  Ben spent days in the waiting room of every hospital in Chicago as nurses searched their records. He was told the same thing as if on repeat, “I’m sorry, sir. There are no records of a Grace Elizabeth Stevens having ever been admitted.” No records of a Jane Doe. Nothing. The phrase was always followed by a sympathetic smile.

  Chicago Memorial was the last hospital he visited. He was exhausted from the tireless searching, weary from the lack of sleep, and emotionally broken by that point. By the end of the first week of her disappearance, the cops told him to consider the options, options he denied in his mind.

  Nope, he would not consider them. It didn’t matter that the police were investigating him as a suspect, or that they asked about their home life as if it was anything less than everything he dreamed it had been. “Mr. Edwards, have you considered that she left on her own accord and doesn’t wish to be found?”

  “She wouldn’t leave me.�
�

  “But she migh—”

  “No. We’re getting married in a month.”

  “Are you sure?” the officer asked carefully while studying Ben.

  His eyes flashed to the officer’s. “This isn’t in my head. We had a good life.” Ben closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up, he said, “We have a life. Even if she wanted to leave me, Grace wouldn’t leave her family. They were very close. There’s no way she could do this without Emily knowing.”

  “Who is Emily?”

  “My sister, and Grace’s best friend. We grew up together.”

  “Ah. Okay. Look, Mr. Edwards. I know this is hard, but I have to be honest. Most of these cases . . . the signs were there, but we’re too blind to see them. Maybe she wasn’t happy and moved on,” he went on without regard to Ben’s breaking heart.

  “Not my Grace.” It was a fight. Nothing more. “She wouldn’t leave me alone, not like this.”

  Overworked.

  Stressed from the wedding planning.

  Not enough time together.

  A stupid fight.

  They were always quick to make up. Nothing was left hanging over their hearts for long. Nothing had been . . . except her disappearance.

  Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk in front of a building he’d had a hand in designing, Ben never accepted the theories that his Grace no longer graced his world. No, he couldn’t.

  He wouldn’t.

  Ben was standing downtown lost in the memories when he should have been texting Rebecca. He met Rebecca while searching for Grace. He couldn’t bear for someone else he loved to call him Ben, so Rebecca called him Benjamin. She didn’t ask much of him, but he rescheduled the client meeting, which would free him to attend her awards dinner. It was an important night for her. Not only would various medical achievements in Chicago be recognized, but they’d also have the chance to schmooze with the on-staff doctors and attempt to secure a permanent position.