“No, Tara. You work for me. You’re under my protection. Silver should be questioned for his actions. I ain’t letting him speak to you like that.”
“Look, I’m not talking about this anymore. I called him an asshole, he called me a whore. I guess you could say we are even.”
“Okay,” he says, letting out a huge breath. “I’ll let it lie, but the next time I see him, I’m calling him out on it. Cocksucker needs to know that kinda shit is not acceptable here. Never had this issue when Nate was the one coming here to do business.”
“Brax.” Izzy taps him lightly on the chest with the back of her hand. She glares at him with wide eyes.
“Shit, sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to be an insensitive asshole.”
“You can mention his name,” I reply, giving him the best smile I can muster. I drift off into a world of thought while the two of them chat away, none of their words registering. All I can think about is Nate. Even though I don’t want to. Even though I know now that it’s over I should forget all about him and move on with my life.
The sound of my cell phone buzzing breaks my train of thought. I reach into my purse, checking the screen. A message shows from a number I don’t recognize. I quickly open it, reading the message. It’s from Justin, the manager at Suite 102.
Staring at the screen, I contemplate messaging back. He wants to meet up. To have a drink with me sometime, and I know I should be flattered. The guy was hot. Not my type, but it could be the perfect distraction. I quickly type my response, setting the phone down in front of me. An instant pang of guilt sears through me even though technically I’m not doing anything wrong. Picking up the phone again, I’m tempted to message him, saying that accepting his offer was a mistake, only the phone vibrates again and his response is staring me in the face.
Shit.
Too late.
Nate
His hands land heavily around my throat, pushing my back against the cold wall of the garage, the tip of his knife so close to my eyeball, I daren’t breathe for fear of it touching.
“Did I not fucking warn you?” he snarls and there’s no mistaking his tone. He’s fucking pissed, that much I know.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The Mellano girl, cocksucker.” His hand squeezes a little tighter and there’s nothing I can do to get him to loosen his grip.
“She came of her own accord,” I reply. “I didn’t invite her here.”
“I thought I was clear when I told you to call it off.”
“I did.” I try to force out the words, but his hand is so tight it’s barely audible. He works the knife down against the skin under my eye, the sting as he cuts me drawing out a growl.
“Why was she here?” he asks again, this time loosening the hold around my throat. He dips out his tongue, licking the tip of the blade, removing the small amount of blood coating it. Breathing heavily, I use my hand to replace where his hand was.
“She wanted answers. Wants to know why I really called it off. She doesn’t understand how we work here.”
“One day she will,” he replies with a smirk. “I will make her mine, make no mistake about it.”
“If you want my sloppy seconds, go for it.”
Raising his clenched fist, he jabs his hand towards my face, connecting with my nose, causing my head to thrash to the side.
“You should never have laid your filthy fucking hands on her,” he snarls, shaking his fist then rubbing his finger over his knuckles. I wipe my nose, blood streaming from my nostrils. Reaching for a cloth, I press it to my nose to stem the flow.
“Carter promised her to me, and one day, Son, I’ll be cashing in on that promise.”
“Carter isn’t around anymore.”
“A promise is a promise,” he sings. “So, heed my warning.” He points his finger at me, his brows drawn together. The skin around his eyes crinkles as he narrows them on me. “Stay away from her. She isn’t yours to have, and whatever happened between you two stops here. So help me God; if I find out you have been anywhere near her, I’ll tear you from limb to fucking limb, you got that?”
Nodding weakly, I drop my eyes to the ground. I know there’s no joke in what he says. He means every fucking word of his threat.
“And remember one thing.” He points the knife toward me. “Once a Savage, always a Savage. Ain’t no getting away from it.”
“I’m not Harlan,” I spit back, instantly regretting the words that blurt from my useless fucking mouth.
“Don’t mention his fucking name. He’s a disgrace to this family, wherever the fuck he is.”
“But I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me. I’ve worked hard for this family.” Standing proud, I look him deep in the eye, knowing my dealings with Brax and the relationship I have formed with him has made us a great deal of money.
“You’re nothing but a goddamn pussy. For years all you’ve been interested in is fucking sketches and goddamn tattoos. Time to become a real fucking Savage, Nate. We fuck who we want, we make our victims beg for mercy, and God help anyone that stands in our way. You were raised here, in that exact environment. Why can’t you be like the rest of us?”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’ve killed people and I’ve fucked women, just like the rest of the gang. Just because I have a talent for tattoos and drawing doesn’t make me any less of a fucking man.”
Tilting his head up, he twirls the knife in his hand. “Have you ever forced your cock into a woman’s mouth, Nate? Huh? Made them do something they don’t want to?”
“I’ve never needed to,” I say with a cocky tone.
“Exactly,” he sings. “You’re just too nice, Nate. Not sure where you get that from because you were the product of the most satisfying rape to date. Your whore of a mother begged to stay here with us. She had nowhere else to go, yet here she was, begging for my cock. And do you know what? When it came to it, she was nothing but a fucked-up junkie whore, looking for a bed to sleep in. And despite her begging me to stop, I fucked her until my cum was dripping out of her tight little pussy.”
Cringing, my heart thuds against my chest. Never has my father told me about my mother. Never. I know as a child I asked over and over. But no one ever gave me any answers. I was just another sad, lonely child living here. I will myself not to react to his nasty taunts. I know he’s trying to get a reaction out of me.
“She tried to run away a number of times, only we kept bringing her back, making her pay her way for the roof I was providing over her head. Hmmm,” he hums as if remembering something. “She was good, Son. I loved the way she always struggled. It really fucking turned me on,” he says with an air of accomplishment. “You should try it sometimes. The thrill is totally worth it.”
“What happened to her?” I press him, trying to get the answers I’d been looking for all my life.
“Overdose. Fucking drugged-up cunt,” he replies. “Well rid,” he adds. Never knowing my mother has given me no expectations or feelings toward her. What little I know is all I know about her, and although I hate how he’s speaking, it makes me feel nothing. Because I never knew her to feel anything, anyway.
“Have we finished?” I ask, dropping back into my seat, picking up my pencil and continuing to work on the design for the guy I have scheduled for this afternoon. I reach my free hand up to my cheek, wincing when I make contact with the cut on my skin.
“Tomorrow,” he blurts out. “Tomorrow, we party. I want to see the real Nate Savage in action. Whores will be wall to wall in this place. There’s to be no talk of tattoos or fucking sketches. You hear me?”
“Uh-huh,” I answer loosely, pushing back in my chair and swinging it around until I’m facing him. I twirl the pencil in my fingers, rocking back and forth on the chair.
“It’s going to be a complete pussy-fest. I want to see you taking advantage.” He points the knife at me before turning on his heel and heading out of the garage. A heavy sigh escapes me as I sink
back into the chair. I press my fingers so hard against the pencil that it snaps. With a yell, I launch it against the wall before clenching my shaky hand and hitting my knuckles against the wall, over and over. Staring at the wall, my blood splatters more and more, every time my fist connects with it. The sudden realization I’m trapped in this world I was born into, hits me like a goddamn sledgehammer. I’ll never be free to make my own decisions, to be with a girl the way I truly want to. Being me came with a whole array of fucked-up expectations. I’m not a man if I don’t force a woman into having sex with me. Just a fucking pussy unless I have blood on my hands. I’m sick of my father’s ridiculous rules, yet there’s no escaping him.
Every time my hand connects with the wall, it’s like the pain I feel is a representation of how I’m feeling inside.
I’m the president’s only son. The heir to everything that comes with this life. I’m the heir to a life I don’t fucking want anymore. The numbness in my hand tells me I need to stop hitting the wall. Blood drops from my knuckles and I’m panting as I look at the mess I’ve made. What the fuck is wrong with me? I shake my head as I stand, searching for gauze I use, hoping to wrap it around my hand. Fuck, it has to be here somewhere. Kneeling down, I check the cabinet, locating it and wrapping it around my damaged knuckles. Inhaling deeply, I drop to the ground; the sinking feeling in the fucking pit of my stomach is eating away at me. The feeling of sorrow is almost too much to take. Knowing I had to sacrifice the love I had for the only girl I’ve ever had feelings for, just to keep her safe from my own father, weighs heavy. If there was any other way, I’d take it. But there isn’t.
Her being here would be an open invitation for my father. Carter promised Tara to him, and I have to make sure, that no matter what, the bastard cannot cash in on that promise. I need to call Brax. Let him know.
Together, we have to keep her safe. I would never be able to live with myself if anything ever happened to her.
Tara
I can’t do this, I tell myself as I swipe the lipstick across my full lips, my shoulders slumping at the thought of meeting Justin from Suite 102. Part of my ridiculous mind convinced me it would be a good idea to spread my wings and see other people. Try something, anything, to forget about Nate. But it’s no use. There’s a part of me that belongs with Nate, whether he wants to admit to it or not.
The phone buzzing against the dressing table catches my attention. I look down at the screen to see a text from Justin.
Can’t wait to see you.
Urgh, my heart sinks at the sight of the message. I quickly press reply, wracking my brain to think of a reason why I won’t be able to make it. I type with speed, then delete. Then type out another excuse, only to delete it. Slamming my phone down, I grab the wine glass, throwing back the red liquid until there’s nothing left. I refill quickly from the bottle, glugging down the second glass. I need to do this. I have to be okay with not being okay. The warmth of the alcohol gives me a much-needed buzz. Inhaling a huge breath, I finally pick up my phone, typing out my response.
Ordering a cab now. Be there real soon.
Calling the cab, I push on my stilettos, grab my purse, and head down to wait for it to arrive. Shivering, I clutch my purse to my chest, trying to insulate myself from the chill in the air. Lights of an approaching vehicle cause me to shield my eyes, the brightness almost too much. I step forward, expecting it to be the cab driver. Only it isn’t the cab at all.
The sound of the engines roaring is unmistakable. I clutch my purse, taking a step back from the motorcycles that approach. The rumble of the engines vibrates as they close in on me, stopping just beside me. A plume of smoke surrounds the guys. I slowly lower my purse, ready to pull out my gun if necessary. It’s always in my purse, and I don’t go anywhere without it.
Squinting, I try to make out the face of the man leading the gang, cigar clenched between his fingers.
Jeffries.
President of the Savages.
“Hey,” I reply sweetly, mindful of the fact that working with the Savages is a big deal for Brax. “Can I help you?”
“Come closer,” he instructs with a wiggle of his tattoo-covered finger.
“I’m fine right here, sir.” I decline as politely as possible, but dammit, I’m nervous, especially after what has happened with Nate.
“Come,” he roars, and it’s no longer an invitation, it’s a demand. Swallowing the lump of nerves that have formed in my throat, I go against my better judgment, taking one step forward. My heart hammers in my chest, but I don’t let him intimidate me.
“What do you want, Jeffries? I really don’t have time for this, my cab will be here any second.” My tone is laced with annoyance, and I can tell by the expression on his face, he’s less than impressed.
“What makes you think you can decline an order from me, huh?”
“I don’t answer to a Savage,” I say with a scoff.
“Is that right?” he muses, flexing his arm out, catching my wrist and pulling me closer. “Funny, you’ve been fucking one for months.”
“What I do and who I do it with is none of your goddamn business,” I snap. Pushing my purse under the crook of my arm, I reach in for my gun with my free hand. Drawing it out, I press it to his forehead, ready to pull the trigger. “Don’t make me do something we’ll both live to regret.”
The sound of guns engaging reverberates through the evening air. My eyes dart to the other guys on motorcycles, each one pointing a gun directly at me.
Shit.
“My, my, my,” he laughs, his chest rumbling as he does. “Quite the challenge, my pretty Tara. I don’t remember you being so uncooperative when we met before.”
“You were just another cog in the wheel. I was there to keep you sweet. Surely, by now, you know how business works, Jeffries.” I push my hand forward, applying a little more pressure onto his forehead, but he never even flinches. He tightens the grip around my wrist, giving it a little tug.
Lights catch my attention, and the second my eyes leave Jeffries, he reaches up, knocking the gun from my hand. The driver parks behind Jeffries’ band of Savages, and I know I’m trapped. He has both of my wrists and now I have no gun.
“Are you really going to sacrifice what you have with Brax? I know how hard he’s worked with you guys, and the way I see it, you’re in the best position you’ve been in a long while. All thanks to him.”
“This is nothing to do with Brax. This is everything to do with you, sweet Tara.”
“Are you really that stupid?” I retort, watching as his face hardens and his glare on me intensifies. “We’re as good as family…”
“Are you fucking him?” he asks in a low, serious tone.
“What? No!”
“Then I don’t get it.” He pulls my right hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. Internally, I recoil at the feel of his mouth against my skin.
“There’s nothing for you to get.” I tug on my hands, this time with all the strength I have. Somehow, I manage to snap my hands away, drop to my knees and grab my gun. Holding out my shaking hand, I point the gun at him, slowly stepping back.
“Stay away from me,” I growl out. “You’ll fuck up everything you and Brax have worked so hard to achieve. Is it really worth it?” I ask, with a cock of my head.
“I’ll have to let you know. Goodnight, Tara,” he says with a smug expression as he grabs the handlebars of the bike, twisting it, causing the engine to roar back to life. Without a second glance, I race over to the car, jerking open the door and dropping into the back seat.
“You okay there?” the driver asks, his face coming into focus between the seats.
“Sure,” I reply, my voice strained but a smile wide on my face. “Suite 102, please,” I instruct, reaching for my seatbelt and buckling up. My heart is still pounding, but what’s worse are the questions racing through my mind. Like, seriously, what the hell just happened? I furrow my brow, drop the gun into my purse, then grab my phone and dial Izzy’s numb
er.
“Hey, you,” she replies sweetly.
“Izzy,” I say a little breathlessly.
“What’s wrong?”
The panic in her voice is clear, and I’m quick to reply. “Uh, well, guess who just stopped by?”
“Nate,” she rushes out. Just hearing his name causes an ache deep in my gut.
“No,” I say with sadness in my voice. “Not Nate.”
“Well, who?”
“Jeffries was here, and listen,” I say, glancing over my shoulder and through the rear windshield. “It was weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Weird as in he had hold of me.” A huge breath escapes me before I continue. “I pulled my gun on him.” My voice is barely audible, and the driver adjusting the rearview mirror catches my attention.
“Wait… what? I’m totally confused.”
“Imagine how I feel,” I retort, laughing nervously.
“You’re okay though, right? He didn’t touch you or hurt you in any way?”
“No, no, absolutely not.”
“Fuck, Tara. What’s going on with them? The goddamn Savages.”
“Hey, Izzy. Please don’t say anything to Brax.”
“Uh-uh, Tara. Don’t pull that shit on me. Brax needs to know what has happened. The Savages need to be kept in check, and he’s the boss. He has to know.”
“Shit,” I breathe down the receiver. “Okay, well let me be the one to speak to him. The last thing I want is to ruin the business relationship we have with them. I feel like everything just got on track, and business is good.”
“So good,” she replies quickly.
“Right. And, see, I don’t want to be the one to cause a rift between them.”
“Tara,” she says with a tone of warning, catching me a little off guard. “Jeffries came to your place. He grabbed hold of you. This is all him, not you. If this shit causes a rift, then that’s his own doing. Brax will take care of this, I know he will. He’ll get Jeffries to back off. I wonder what his problem is?”
In love and ruins Page 5