Savannah could only pray that she wasn’t next.
She had been staring at her feet all morning, her heart in her throat since her kidnapper had called Torran to reveal her plight. Her lover now had less than an hour to comply - which meant that, bar a miracle, Savannah had less than an hour left to live.
To her surprise, she wasn’t as hysterically terrified as she might have thought. Certainly, she was scared, but at least she could believe that once she was out of the way, Torran would no longer be plagued by the bad decisions he’d made in his past. If there was anyone who deserved a new beginning, it was him.
All Savannah wanted was his happiness because, strangely enough, he’d given her hers.
Perhaps the prospect of her own death had driven her insane. She cared more about Torran’s ultimate happiness than her own life - the irony was overwhelming. Savannah was lost in her own thoughts when the low chirping of her phone snapped her back to the present. Across the room from her, the man who called himself Two Finger sat at a lone table, waiting with the utmost patience.
He was short but solidly built, with a patch of dark hair atop his mostly balding head and watery, cruel blue eyes that held no warmth whatsoever. To compensate for his size - and for the two lonely fingers on his right hand - however, he was flanked by four other men, all of whom could have rivaled Torran for size and strength. Though Savannah had done her best to ignore these men, they’d been staring at her for half the day. No doubt they were waiting for their boss to tell them they could have their way with her.
The mere thought was enough to make her cringe.
Two Finger picked up the phone on the second ring. “Torran! I was beginning to lose faith in you.” His Irish brogue had a bit of a rasp to it that spoke of too many cigarettes from a young age. “I assume you’re on your way with the papers?” The tone of his voice belied the fact that he did not, in fact, believe any such thing. Two Finger was simply waiting for Torran to say that he gave up.
He wanted that ultimate humiliation for a man he believed had humiliated him.
As Torran spoke, however, the older man’s expression changed from one of smarmy triumph to slight shock. “Oh really? Do you now? And you have them in hand. Well then, my boy, we’ll be waiting for you with bated breath. See you soon.” Pressing a button succinctly, Two Finger ended the call before tossing the phone onto the table.
When he turned to face Savannah, his smile was thin and dangerous. “It seems your lover boy is on his way with the paperwork to sign away his company. I’ll believe that when I see it, but it’s nice to know he hasn’t turned into a complete pussy.” Reaching into his coat, the man withdrew a gleaming side arm with far too much relish. “When he gets here, we’ll go and greet him together, shall we?” Two Finger stood, nodding at two of his men. They both took out their own guns and began to move towards her with dark intent.
Savannah felt her stomach drop as her mind whirled.
Torran wasn’t really going to sign over his company, was he? She’d never be able to live with herself if she was the reason he lost everything. The time was drawing near for his fight, but it was obvious that the former champ only had one thing on his mind.
As delighted as Savannah knew Two Finger would be to take Torran’s company from him, gloating the entire time, she highly doubted he would release her once everything was said and done. In fact, he was much more likely to simply kill them both and escape with his newfound wealth.
The prospect was enough to make her sick to her stomach.
Savannah was hauled from her chair and her hands rebound behind her before Two Finger ushered her into the next room. Naturally, Chelsea Piers was bustling on a Saturday afternoon, but they had taken up camp in a part that was under reconstruction. What Two Finger had done with the actual construction workers, Savannah was loathe to find out.
Two Finger’s henchman forced her down into another chair while a third kept a lookout, waiting for Torran.
The next ten minutes were the slowest of Savannah’s life. Her heart pounded, her palms sweaty, and she was pretty sure she might actually pass out. At least then she might be blissfully unconscious for her own execution.
But Savannah remained torturously conscious, waiting with her guard to discover her fate.
After what seemed like an eternity, the man keeping watch over the front door announced to Two Finger that Torran was approaching the building and Savannah’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to yell at him for refusing to listen to her, to scream at him to stay away - but all she could think was that he’d subjected himself to immense danger, just for her sake...and he couldn’t die.
Not like this.
Then, all at once, he was stepping into the building.
The circumstances were horrible, but Savannah couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen - huge, powerful and utterly furious….clutching a briefcase in his tightly clenched left hand. When Savannah saw it, she moaned in dismay, drawing Torran’s attention to her. When his intense gaze locked with hers, her heart skipped a beat.
“So nice of you to come, Torran.” Two Finger looked almost welcoming - like a shark might welcome an anchovy to dinner. “It seems you have found a way to do the impossible.”
“I did the best I could. It’ll be a few weeks before this paperwork can be vetted the way it needs to be, but you sign on the line and I’ll take care of everything else.”
Two Fingers’ brows arched in incredulous surprise. “And I’m sure you expect me to believe you’re just going to hand over your entire enterprise, just like that.” He reached for the weapon he’d set on the table and Savannah’s stomach tightened painfully. “Do you really think I’m so fucking stupid?”
Torran exhaled a long breath, taking another step into the room before setting the briefcase by his feet. The movement was enough to have every man’s weapon on him inside of an instant.
“No.” His reply was low and steady, and Savannah bit back a wail at the fate she was certain awaited him. “Just stupid enough.”
It was like someone had thrown a switch. All at one, a tide of paparazzi came flooding through the now unguarded front entryway. Photographers, reporters and the like - at least twenty or more, were all but pushing their way into the front room of the warehouse, heedless of the danger.
And at least ten cameras were already rolling.
The sight was enough to make Savannah’s mouth drop open in shock. These were the people who had been disappointed when the drama over Two Finger dried up. They wanted nothing more than they wanted a good story - even if it put them in the path of a gun.
But with all these cameras live, Savannah suddenly realized, Two Finger would be signing his own death warrant if he fired a single shot. There was no way he could get away with killing so many American’s in cold blood. He’d be gunned down on the spot and spend the rest of a short life in an American prison.
For his part, the man seemed just as shocked with the new development as Savannah did. In the space of a few seconds, he was swarmed with reporters who were all spitting questions at him.
“Mister Two Finger, have you come to settle the score with Torran Maloney?”
“Are the allegations against Warrick McKinney true, Mister Two Finger?”
“Have you come for blood, Two Finger? Are you planning an attack in broad daylight?”
They were absolutely insane - and for once, Savannah had never been more grateful. In all the chaos, the thugs and their boss panicked, trying to get rid of their guns, and Torran forced his way through the crowd to her side. He wasted no time untying her, but merely tossed her still bound form over his shoulder and made a beeline for the exit.
And he didn’t stop.
Torran strode down the street and around the corner, attracting stares where he walked. He kept going until he was one block away, then two, then five - until Savannah finally found her voice.
“Torran stop. Stop! We need to call the police!”<
br />
Not until he reached the next corner did he finally set her on her feet to begin undoing the bonds around her wrists as she continued. “Those reporters are in danger! If the cops don’t come soon, who knows what Two Finger might-”
“I can’t imagine anything would draw them like a live news broadcast of four heavily armed men, Savvy.”
At that particular, brusque tidbit, Savannah’s mouth snapped shut. She supposed he had a point. “I could give a damn about them right now. They’re getting the story of a lifetime. I’m worried about you.” He cupped her face almost tenderly, drawing Savannah onto her toes. “Are you OK? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”
Slowly, Savannah shook her head.
It all began to hit her then. She’d been running off adrenaline since she’d been snatched that morning, but now...now she was beginning to realize the true enormity of what had happened. She’d been kidnapped, Torran had been blackmailed...one or both of them could have died…
All at once, she began to tremble all over. Her tremors were so violent that Torran drew her tight against him, his strong embrace keeping her on her feet as she shook. He was here. He was here, holding her, they were alive, and somehow...somehow, everything was alright.
“It’s alright, baby, I’m here.” She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the warm dampness of Torran’s shirt beneath her cheek. “I’m here, darlin’. He’ll never touch you again. No one will ever touch you again.” Sirens began to sound in the distance, and Savannah didn’t think she’d ever heard a more welcome sound. “I’ve got you.”
“Torran…” She croaked through her tears, clinging to him as if she were terrified that he’d fade away. “Torran...I thought they were going to shoot you. I thought they were going to kill you and I couldn’t stand the thought that you came just to save me. You have so much on the line and it wouldn’t have been fair-”
“You hush.” Torran’s words were so sharp that Savannah jumped in surprise. “Don’t you dare fucking say that. As if I would give a damn about titles or fucking money if they took you from me. I don’t give a shite about what’s fair, Savannah. I would have killed them, the whole lot of them, if I didn’t think I had any other choice.”
It was frightening to think about, even as the fierceness of Torran’s devotion made Savannah’s heart sing. She never wanted him in such danger again. She wanted him to hold her, just like this, for the rest of her life.
She wanted him to never let go.
“Torran, I was so scared.”
“I know, darlin’. I know.” Torran shushed her gruffly, stroking her back gently. Savannah knew people were staring but she didn’t care. At that moment, the only two people in the cosmos who existed were she and Torran. “You’re safe now. You’re always safe with me. Always.”
At his words, the young woman drew back to cup his face, gazing up into his eyes. The worry, anger, and ultimate relief she saw there was enough to take away any remaining reservations she had. She wasn’t afraid of the truth anymore. “Torran, I was scared I was going to die without ever telling you that I love you.”
At her profession, his eyes widened and he stared at her for a long beat - long enough to make her squirm, despite their current embrace. “Well don’t just look at me like that. We just survived a near death experience and I’m telling you I love you. Say something.”
But Torran was still looking at her as if he couldn’t believe the words coming from her mouth. When he remained silent for another minute, Savannah made to draw away from him, only to have the man lower his mouth to hers in a searing kiss that turned her legs to mush. “Oh sweetness,” he growled lowly against her lips, his thick brogue making her heart flutter, “You’re in trouble now. You know that’s going to my head.” He kissed her again, soundly, their tongues tangling hungrily, before taking her hand and leading her dazed form down the street.
Savannah looked around them in vain, trying to recover her bearings. “Wait, Torran, where are we going?”
“The bloody match, what do you think?” Her heart leapt as Torran turned to smirk at her. “Once I beat that bastard Kelton’s ass, I have a very important press conference to attend.”
Savannah’s brows shot up in confusion. From near-death to a match to a press conference? This was far too proactive to be the Torran she knew. “A press conference?”
“Yeah, a private one. With just you and me.” When they came to an intersection, he drew her close once again to brush a thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “I may not be so good at saying the words, Savvy, but I’m real good at demonstrating the important points. And the most important one is that you’re never leaving my side again. Not until I’m dead and gone.”
For a moment, Savannah was rendered just as speechless as Torran had been mere moments ago. She stared at the man, her heart filling her chest as she realized that this insane, impudent, brave, wonderful man was offering her the one thing she thought she’d never find.
“Are you asking what I think you are?” Her words came out jagged and breathless and Torran merely grinned cheekily.
“What else do you think I’m gonna use all that bloody prize money for?”
EPILOGUE
It had been, without a doubt, one of the most eventful days of Savannah’s life. Of course, she had hoped it would be eventful for Torran, if not so much for herself. However, here she was at eleven thirty at night, contemplating all that had happened over her third glass of champagne.
And wondering how on earth she had gotten here.
It was a forgone conclusion that Torran won his match. Kelton had barely lasted a minute in the ring with him once he gave his all, and thanks to her father’s stalling, the match started only thirty minutes behind schedule. Torran fought like a demon, bolstered by the fact that Savannah was cheering unabashedly for him in the front row - right next to the cage.
She had never been a proponent of violence, but she wouldn’t deny that it gave her immense satisfaction to see Torran take down a man who had once insisted that he won his title because he was better than him. Of course, that had been the nicest thing Kelton had said, but Savannah was sure he wasn’t saying much now. Not with his face swollen the way it was.
She herself might not have been so into the match if she cared more for her image. As Torran’s publicist, she always reminded herself to observe decorum. She was supposed to be calm to temper his wildness, to always be prepared to clean up his messes.
But now, she cared little about any of those things, because, as of three hours ago, Savannah wasn’t Torran’s publicist anymore. Of course, when he first told her he was firing her, she’d been livid. After he was almost sweet to her that afternoon, he was suddenly doing a one eighty! Funnily enough, it was her own father who backed the fighter up, citing that he couldn’t very well marry his publicist. Not when he had a much bigger job for her. According to her fiancée, his company was badly in need of a good publicist to run the department - and he was willing to personally give her old boss, Carthright, her firm resignation.
With a long sigh of contentment, Savannah lounged in the bed she and Torran had thoroughly decimated for the better part of the evening. When the man told her that he planned to use his winnings to buy her a ring, she hadn’t thought he would do it so immediately. But Torran was a stubborn man, never to be dissuaded once he decided to do something.
They had stopped at a jeweler on the way home from the Garden and the shopkeeper fell all over himself to reopen the place when he found out that Torran wanted to drop forty thousand dollars on a ring.
Savannah glanced at her left hand with a small smile. The diamond that glittered there was rather larger than what she might have expected. She tried to tell Torran that it was too much - that she wanted to go with something a little more discreet, but he wouldn’t hear it.
You were kidnapped because of me a few hours ago. Let me buy you a fucking proper ring.
The man did have a way with words.
Outside
their little penthouse oasis, the entire city was buzzing. In the same night, Torran Maloney had won back his heavyweight title and one of the UK’s most infamous criminals was in custody in an American jail. The word was that the US was refusing to extradite Two Finger for crimes of reckless endangerment, sexual assault, and carrying unlicensed weapons in the city - just to name a few. If he was lucky, he’d only get fifty years or so in prison. Ireland, Savannah expected, would have been much harsher, considering his rap sheet there. Of course, now no one cared about what the man threatened to expose on Warrick McKinney. In light of kidnapping an American citizen and brandishing a gun at a crowded weekend venue, no one was taking the man very seriously.
Which was, Savannah realized, the ultimate humiliation for a man so used to wielding so much power.
“You’re still awake then?” At Torran’s low question, her eyes drifted upwards to take in the man’s stark naked form in the doorway.
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