Salvage (Savages and Saints Book 3)

by C. M. Seabrook

  “I know. I don’t fault them for it. I’d be worried if my son was hanging around someone like me, too.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Put yourself down like that. You’re not defined by the things he did.”

  “I think you were the only person in Port Clover who believed that.”

  “Then they were all fools.” I move on the couch, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her towards me, so that she’s seated between my legs, back against my chest. Screw trying to do the right thing. I need to feel her, touch her, even if it’s just holding her for a few damn seconds.

  She tenses for a moment, before relaxing into me and allowing me to thread my fingers with hers.

  Seconds pass and we just sit like that. Warmth spreads through my body, but it’s more than just lust, more than just a need to bury myself inside her. Sure, I want that. Need it. But I also need this...to just be with her.

  It’s insane, her being here. I still can’t wrap my head around it.

  “What else has changed since I’ve been gone?” Her voice is low, and there’s a slight tremble to it.

  “Quinn married Zee St. James.”

  She shifts to look up at me. “You’re kidding? But he was so...bad, and Quinn was always so sweet.”

  “She still is.” I smile down at her. “And he’s more than made up for his years of tormenting her. Built her a huge house a few miles away that overlooks the lake. Oh, and you remember my cousin Makena. She ended up marrying Shane Hayes.”

  “Should I know who that is?”

  “Wild Irish.”

  “Oh my God, but he’s...gorgeous.”

  I grunt. “I don’t know about that. But he makes her happy. They have a place in Ireland, a couple of kids. They visit sometimes. I know Makena is trying to come back for my dad’s party, but I’m not sure if Shane will be joining her. Either way, you have a dozen Savages and St. James under one roof, and you know trouble will follow.”

  She chuckles. “I love the way you speak about them.”

  “With frustration and annoyance?”

  “Yeah, but you love them.”

  I shrug. “They can be a pain in the ass, but they’re family. Nothing’s more important.”

  “I never had that until I met Patty and Merv. The folks who took me in.”

  “And now you’re a mom.”

  “I am.”

  She goes quiet.

  “Tell me about him. About Nolan.” He’s a part of her, and I want to know everything about the kid.

  “He’s a good boy. Smart. Stubborn.” She lets out a shaky breath. “He wouldn’t have gone with Farkas without a fight.” Her muscles tense again, and I can feel her need to get up, do something, even if it’s just pace.

  I rub her shoulders and arms, and she relaxes slightly.

  “Does he play any sports?”

  “Hockey and baseball. But he went through a growth spurt last summer, so he’s all arms and legs right now. I swear I have to buy him new shoes and pants every three months. Doesn’t even have time to put holes in them.”

  I listen to her talk about her son, and the more she tells me about him, the more I know I want to be part of their lives.

  “God, I missed you,” I murmur, pulling her closer and tucking a hand under her chin, turning her face so I can see her.

  So damn beautiful.

  And mine. My heart beats so loud I swear she can hear it.

  “I missed you, too,” she whispers, her gaze dropping to my mouth.

  “Would I be an asshole if I told you I haven’t been able to stop thinking about kissing you?”

  A small whimper is her only response, and I can see the matched need in her eyes, feel the heat of her body.

  Despite the warning in my skull telling me not to rush things, I lower my mouth to hers, taking what I’ve been dreaming of for the past eleven years.

  Her lips part on a small gasp, but then she kisses me back, her hands moving up my chest, around my neck, pulling me closer.

  What starts out as tender and gentle quickly turns desperate. My control frays, and I’m kissing her like I’m a drowning man and she’s the oxygen I’ve been living without all these years.

  “Lor,” I murmur against her mouth, that primal part of me claiming what has always been mine.

  A knock at the door shatters the moment.

  “Shit.” I hold her, our breathing labored.

  Her cheeks are pink, lips red and swollen, and her gaze quickly turns from lust filled to guilt stricken.

  She pushes away from me. “I can’t...”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  More banging, this time followed by Abbott’s annoyed voice. “Open up, dickhead.”

  I shift off the couch, pausing to apologize again. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s...okay.”

  Except it’s not. Her son has been kidnapped, and I just took advantage of her vulnerable state.

  Yeah, I’m an asshole.

  I open the door, finding my youngest brother standing there holding a bag.

  “Apparently, you’re special enough to warrant delivery.” He starts to push into the house, but I place a hand on the frame, stopping him.

  Of all my siblings, Abbott is the last person I want to deal with right now. But at least he doesn’t appear drunk, or high, which seems to be a constant state for him lately.

  “You hiding something in there?” He peers over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, your dead body if you don’t leave.”

  He grunts. “That’s the thanks I get for driving all the way over here.”

  “Pretty sure you owe me a half dozen favors. Count this as one of them.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m going to need another one next Tuesday night. Can you keep your guys away from the Coulter’s farm?”

  “Jesus, Abbott. I told you, no more underground fights. I’m going to lose my fucking badge for you–”

  “It’s the last one, I promise. I’ve got a trainer coming up from the city to watch me. You may have heard of him. Theo Ryan.”

  “The MMA champion?”

  Abbott’s mouth stretches into an actual real smile, and not one of his usual cocky ass grins. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Yeah.” It is. But these fights are still illegal. “Fine. But this is it. I mean it. And no fucking drugs.”

  He holds up his hands. “I’m clean. Two months. Promise you.”

  I grunt, not knowing if I believe him.

  “Thanks for the burgers,” I say before shutting the door.

  I find Lorelei half asleep on the couch when I return.

  “Hey,” I say, rasping a knuckle across her cheek. “You should eat something before you fall asleep.”

  Drowsily, she sits up, but she doesn’t meet my gaze, not even when I hand her the Styrofoam container.

  “Thank you.” She takes a bite of the burger, then nibbles on a fry.

  Avoiding temptation, I sit in the oversized chair across from her.

  “Abbott’s an MMA fighter?” she asks.

  “He thinks he is.” The kid actually has potential if he ever stays clean for more than a few weeks at a time. “He’s got himself caught up in some underground fighting.”

  She pauses, the burger halfway to her lips. “With Farkas?”

  “No.” I say, even though I’ve had my suspicions as to who really runs the events. But I’ve never found any evidence the man is involved.

  “Isn’t it your job to shut those things down?” She’s frowning at me.

  “Usually they’re harmless. Just a few college kids getting high on adrenaline.”

  “I wouldn’t peg you as someone who bends the rules.”

  “When you’re going after the big fish, sometimes you have to let the smaller ones have free range.”

  “Until one of the smaller fish grows up. How many cops thought the same thing about Farkas when he was starting out? Maybe if someone had stopped him then–”

>   “A few illegal fights are nothing compared to drug dealing and human trafficking,” I say, but her words rattle something inside me. Maybe because I know I’ve given my brother too much freedom. Let him and his friends think that because I’m sheriff they’ll just get a slap on their hand, instead of any real consequences.

  “I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job. I’ve just seen a lot of dirty cops–”

  “I’m not dirty, Lorelei.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  But she doesn’t trust me, or the badge I wear. Not that I can blame her considering her past, but it eats at me.

  She yawns, her lids heavy as she picks at another fry. She’s only taken a few bites of her burger, but I can tell she needs sleep more right now than food.

  “You should go to bed.” I stand, taking the container from her.

  She’s wobbly when I help her up. “I think that beer affected me.”

  “Good.” I steady her, holding her elbow. “Maybe you’ll get a good night’s sleep.”

  I walk her to my room, pulling the covers back and helping her into bed, resisting the urge to press my lips against her forehead. She’s already half asleep by the time I turn the lights off

  “Good night, Lorelei.” I start to shut the door.

  “Damon?”

  “Yeah.”

  She hesitates before saying, “Thank you.”

  I nod, then shut the door, hoping she’ll still thank me when she finds out what I plan, because there’s only one way to deal with Farkas. One way to ensure Lorelei and Nolan are safe. And that’s to finally bring the man down for good. It just means I’m going to have to do one thing I never wanted to do again. Break a promise to her.

  Chapter 6

  Lorelei

  Damon is gone when I wake up, and I spend the better half of the morning pacing his house, clutching the disposable cell to my chest...waiting for another call from Farkas, worrying over what Nolan is doing, what he’s thinking, if he’s okay.

  I never told him about my past. Not about Farkas, and not about Damon.

  Sure, there’ve been times when he’s asked about his father. Times when longing had tugged at his features as he watched a father and son toss a football in the park, or during one of his little league games when the other boys’ fathers cheered their kids on from the sidelines. Times when I wished things weren’t so damn complicated.

  Walking around Damon’s house, I let my mind wander to what could have been.

  On the fridge, there’s a picture of Damon with a little girl on his shoulders, both wearing matching grins. I remove the magnet and lean against the counter, studying the photo.

  Damon said Kade had a girl, but I don’t see any resemblance to any of the Savages. Not compared to how much Nolan looks like Damon. I’d held my breath when I’d shown Damon the picture of him. Wondering if he’d see it, if he’d ask the question I’d been dreading.

  Part of me hoped he would.

  He hadn’t. And it made me wonder if he didn’t want to know. He was already settled in his life. There was a reason why he hadn’t settled down. Maybe he didn’t want that type of responsibility.

  “I’m doing him a favor by keeping it from him,” I murmur, knowing the excuse doesn’t hold the same truth as it used to.

  Nolan and I were doing just fine until Farkas found me. After all this is over, when I have my son back and I’m finally free of the man forever, I’ll take Nolan and disappear again.

  It’s for the best.

  For everyone.

  But even as I think it, I know I’m lying to myself.

  Damon may not want the responsibility, but I know how much family means to him. If he finds out Nolan is his, there’s no way he’ll let us walk away. Not without a fight. A fight that could end with me losing the only thing that matters–my son.

  I place the photo back on the fridge and rub my arms.

  The man might still be able to make me tremble with a single touch, but he’s still a Savage. Stubborn, single-minded, and I know he’ll think me keeping Nolan from him was a betrayal of the worst kind.

  Maybe it was. But I wasn’t just protecting myself.

  Even after what I’d heard Damon say about me the night I left, there had still been moments of weakness when I’d thought about calling him.

  It was more than just Farkas that stopped me. It was fear of rejection. Or maybe fear that he wouldn’t reject me – us. That he’d shoulder his responsibility and end up resenting me.

  God knows he will now, if I ever tell him the truth.

  What I need to do is get the money, get Nolan, and get as far away from Port Clover as I can.

  A knock on the door makes me jump.

  I’d been so in my head I hadn’t heard the car, but when I glance out the living room window I see a black Wrangler parked in the driveway.

  Another knock, and then the rattling of the door handle.

  Shit. Did Farkas find me here?

  I look around for anything I can use as a weapon, but since Damon took my gun, the only thing I find is a baseball bat leaning against the corner behind the coat hanger.

  The door rattles one more time before it bursts open.

  I raise the bat, ready to take a swing at the intruder, and stop mid-swing when the woman lets out a terrified shriek, dropping the two brown bags full of groceries she’d been holding.

  “Oh God, I’m sorry...” Cans and oranges roll across the hardwood, and I take a step back, lowering the bat. “I thought...”

  Breathing heavy, the woman holds her palm against her chest, staring at me wide-eyed. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know Damon had company. I didn’t mean to scare you.” After taking a few more deep breaths, she holds out a hand. “I’m Quinn. His sister.”

  “Quinn.” I’d never have recognized the beautiful woman standing in front of me as the awkward pre-adolescent that had followed her older brothers around like a lost puppy.

  She tilts her head to the side, still looking at me as she collects the stray cans. “Have we met?”

  I grab an orange that rolled under a chair, placing it back in the bag. The last thing I need is for her to recognize me. Port Clover is a small town, and gossip travels quickly. I can’t have Farkas knowing I’m staying with the town’s sheriff.

  A small wail from the open door of the Wrangler has her attention diverted, saving me from answering.

  She sighs. “I guess nap time is over.” Handing me one of the bags, she asks, “Would you mind putting these away? Kade said Damon was low on groceries, so I thought I’d bring him some. Again, sorry for scaring you. I’d never have walked in if I’d known he had...” She looks almost hopeful when she says, “…a date.”

  She looks at me expectantly, and I can tell she wants to know more about Damon and I. She seems slightly disappointed when I don’t offer any details.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to stare, it’s just...” She gives a small shake of her head. “You just look so much like...” Her brows pull down and I see the glint of recognition in her brown eyes. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  Anxiety squeezes my chest, and I swallow over the lump in my throat. I reach to pull the bill of my hat over my eyes, realizing too late I’m not wearing one.

  “I...”

  The baby cries louder, pulling Quinn’s attention away.

  “I’ll let Damon know you stopped by.”

  “Thanks.” She starts to turn, but the frown is still tugging at her lips, and she glances over her shoulder a few times as she walks back to the Jeep.

  I don’t remember to breathe again until she’s rolling out of the driveway.

  Does she know who I am?

  “You’re being paranoid,” I mumble to myself as I start to put the groceries away.

  This is Port Clover. Even if Farkas doesn’t own the town anymore, I don’t doubt he still has ties here.

  I blink away the useless tears that burn my eyes, replacing my fear with frustration when Damon still d
oesn’t return. He’d left a short note on the kitchen counter saying he had some work to do and to make myself at home.

  But as the minutes and hours tick by, paranoia gets the better of me, and I wonder just what kind of work he’s actually doing. He promised he wouldn’t get the police involved, but he is the police.

  If I didn’t need him–or rather, his money–I’d be out of here. But without the cash, I’ll never get Nolan back.

  It’s after four when I finally hear the crunching of gravel. A car door slams.

  I open the front door as Damon starts up the steps, carrying a brown bag with the same logo as the ones Quinn brought.

  He’s in uniform, the pressed shirt and pants hugging every defined muscle. He must have shaved this morning, because his jaw is clean of the beard that had hidden his handsome face. God, he looks good, and I’m momentarily distracted.

  “Hi.” He smiles at me, and my heart forgets to beat.

  I swallow, frustrated with the desire that warms my entire body. “Where were you?” The question comes out more of a demand and I see his brows lift.

  “I had some work to do. Did you see my note?” He moves past me into the kitchen and places the bags on the counter along with his keys and cellphone.

  “I just thought you’d be back sooner.” I twist my hands, hating that I have to rely on him for the money, for anything. He may be able to turn my knees to jelly, but he’s still the boy who broke my heart. “That we’d go to the bank...”

  He turns and crosses his arms, biceps bulging, his gaze hard. Something has changed since last night. There’s a seriousness to him that wasn’t there before. Like he’s put a wall between us. Which is probably for the best, but it still makes something in my chest ache.

  He studies me before asking, “Did Farkas try and contact you again?”

  I hesitate. “No.”

  His right eye twitches. “You need to tell me the moment he does.”

  “Why?”

  He turns his back on me and starts unloading the groceries. “We’re in this together, Lorelei.”

  My throat tightens. “You...you said you wouldn’t get involved. That you’d get the money...”

  With a carton of milk in his hand, he turns. “Whether you like it or not, I am involved.” He adds, although hesitantly, “And I did get the money.”