Savage Love

by Lisa Renee Jones

  I don’t object, not here and now, in front of the Walker team, but the room is a silent crackle of tension. We all know that I have to go to that party. I’m cover for two missions: Rick’s mission to kill Tag and Reynolds’ mission to extract my father. We all know that I have to spend one more night pretending to be another man’s fiancée. There’s no way around it.

  And I’m the one who has to shake Rick back to his senses.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Candace

  All eyes turn to Asher as he pops the data drive Rick hid at his mother’s grave into his computer. We’re all staring at him, this blond, tatted up, gorgeous man who looks like a rocker, and hacks like a geek, waiting for him to tell us what he finds, when his cellphone rings. He stops what he’s doing and grabs his phone from the table next to him. “The wifey,” he says, showing us the caller ID that actually says “wifey.” “She worries,” he adds. “Gotta take this.” He punches a key on his phone and speaks through his Bluetooth. “Hey, baby. Yeah, I miss you, too.” He laughs. “Yes. Yes, I know. What if we get a dog to keep you company? And a cat. We have a client that got a dog and a cat.”

  The call is sweet.

  Rick isn’t having it.

  “What the hell?” Rick snaps. “Tell her you love her and you’ll call her back and talk dirty to her later.”

  It’s so very Rick Savage, and his relationship with these men really is proving so very brotherly in a way that has me wanting to laugh and cry for him, happy tears, not sad. He needed family and they are family. His confession at the graveyard before Wes showed up comes back to me with a powerful impact that douses my anger. He came back for me. He sat in my driveway. He never gave up on us.

  Asher grimaces. “I need to call you back, baby. Savage is being an ass.” He laughs at something his “wifey” says and replies with, “If we talk dirty right now it will really piss him off though. You in?”

  “You want to talk dirty, Asher?” Rick taunts. “Because I can come over this table and talk all kinds of dirty to you. In fact, I know a few words that will retract your balls right up to your ass.”

  Asher barks out laughter and says, “Gotta go, baby,” before he disconnects and grins at Rick. “I hung up because I like my balls right where they are and you’re freaky enough to actually try to relocate them.”

  I laugh and Asher winks at me, before flexes his fingers over his keyboard. “Now. Where were we?” He begins to punch keys and after about two minutes Rick becomes “The Two Minute Man” and loses patience. “Well?” he demands. “What’s on there?”

  Asher smirks and casts him a look. “Jesus, man, you really don’t know what’s on your own data drive, do you? You’re like an old man. Remind me never to give you vodka.”

  Rick folds his arms in front of that perfect chest of his, feet planted wide. “If you drank as much vodka as I did, you’d forget as soon as I reminded you.”

  Rick says things, wild, ridiculous things, but this comment isn’t delivered like a joke. The words are flat. The words are fact. I’m not the only one who notices. The room falls silent, the kind of silence a pin drop could shatter. I can barely perceive of a reality where Rick Savage had to bury his life in booze and I wish I could turn back time, and hold on tighter, the way I plan to hold on now.

  “Money can’t buy happiness,” Adrian murmurs. “But it can buy vodka.” He lifts the cup he’s drinking out of. “This cup might have vodka in it. I feel ya, man.”

  Rick’s gaze lands hard on Adrian and there is no friendship in his stare. He doesn’t like him and I wonder if that’s because he sees a little too much of himself in the other man for comfort.

  “Okay,” Asher says, punching a few keys on his MacBook. “Here’s what we have.” He presses his hands on the table. “It looks like details on ten missions. All domestic. Any idea why you documented and hid these ten missions?”

  “I have not one fuck of an idea,” Rick says. “Email me the documents so I can see them on my phone.”

  “My job now is to find a way to connect them to Gabriel.” Asher rubs his hands together. “Someone better order room service.”

  “I’m in on that,” Adrian chimes in.

  “Can you email me as well?” I ask. “Maybe something will ring a bell for me?”

  “I don’t want it on your phone or digital imprint,” Rick says, eyeing Asher. “We’ll print it for her.”

  From there, there’s a lot of debate over what food to order and by the time room service arrives, Rick and I have moved in closer to the rest of the team and claimed a couple of seats. By the time the food is devoured, I’m reviewing the missions Rick documented, looking for anything that feels familiar. What becomes familiar quickly, is that most of Rick’s missions included someone dying. I knew this, of course. He’s told me. And these missions aren’t just his missions. My father was involved. I also don’t miss the fact that these were carried out on bad actors who intended to hurt our country. Rick had morals. He didn’t kill the little boy, not intentionally, at least. He tried to save him.

  I’m on the final mission, a diplomat to a foreign country who was killed along with his security team. I swallow hard. “This one.”

  Rick glances at the printed document in my hand and then at me. “Why this one?”

  My mind flashes back in time, and then the entire table is staring at me. “I was with Gabriel. The news was on, featuring this story. It pulled his attention from the cigar he’d been lighting at the time and while his expression didn’t change, there was this look in his eyes. I can’t explain it anyway but victorious. So much so that I was going to ask him about it, but his cellphone rang. The call was fast. He didn’t even say hello. Someone said something to him and he disconnected. For some reason, when he hung up, my gut warned me to let it go. Which of course, we all know the reason now. It was self-preservation.

  “He ordered the hits,” Rick says. “His name fits the initials on our instructions. This isn’t news.”

  “But it’s more substantial than initials on a paper. It’s a mission I know he can be connected to.” I swallow hard. “But there’s more.”

  Rick arches a brow, urging me for that “more” without words.

  “The next morning, I went to my father’s house, and we were making pancakes. We were standing there at his island laughing when that same news story came on. He paused, listened and then said, “Not many people I wish dead, but that man, good riddance.”

  “He wasn’t wrong,” Rick says. “He slaughtered thousands of his own people to silence them. I’m not sure that comment means anything.”

  “Except they both reacted to the same story,” I argue. “We know they were both part of this black ops operation. It seems like they both had a reaction that said they were invested. If we can’t prove Gabriel’s involvement, maybe my father can help. He was involved. Maybe he actually has proof he can offer.”

  “We know your father didn’t know Gabriel was the head of the black ops operation,” Rick reminds me. “We have enough data to lead us to believe he found out, he wanted you out, and that put him on Gabriel’s hitlist.”

  “This list of missions isn’t going to help. My father can help. We just need him back here now.”

  “We need a backup plan,” Rick says.

  “What am I?” Asher asks. “Chicken feed? Don’t count me out.”

  I focus on Rick, on the backup plan. “Because my father might not make it out alive.” The reality of this guts me like literally the idea is a knife cutting me open right here and now.

  “Candy, baby—”

  “I know he might not make it back,” I say. “I just needed to say it out loud. I need to force myself to be ready for anything. That’s what you don’t get. I deal with things better upfront and with brutal honesty. But damn it, Rick, if I can handle this, you have to handle your reality, too.”

  His eyes narrow on me. “Meaning what?”

  “We aren’t going to take down Gabriel by the party on Saturday
. It won’t happen. And I’m the cover you need to take out Tag and save my father.” I lean in closer. “I’m going to the party. I’m going to be on Gabriel’s arm. And you can survive that with the promise that you get revenge.” I stand up. “And now, I’m going to our room, where we can fight properly and you can save face when you lose said fight.” I glance around the room. “Goodnight, everyone.”

  And with that, I walk out of the room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Savage

  Possessiveness rises hard and fast inside me, and mixes with protectiveness and yes, fear. I fear losing Candace and not because she’s angry. Because my enemies want to rip her right from my damn arms. I’m on my feet before she ever exits the dining area. I don’t tell the Walker team to leave. They get it. Candace and I need to be alone.

  They stand and start gathering their things.

  I’m out of the dining room and on her heels the moment she enters the bedroom. I’m there, right there, behind her, kicking the door shut, and catching her arm, pulling her around to face me. “I don’t want you near Gabriel. I damn sure won’t let him touch you again.”

  “And I didn’t want you to leave me but you did what you thought you had to do to protect me. And I’m doing what I need to do to protect you and my father.”

  The words bite with plenty of fangs. “Is that how it is? You’re going to throw the past in my face?”

  “No, that’s not how it’s going to be, but I’m angry with you, Rick.” She pokes at my chest. “Really angry. I didn’t realize how angry until right here, right this minute.”

  “You know—”

  “That you regret leaving?” she challenges.

  “You know I do.”

  “And yet you come up with reasons to leave over and over again. That’s why I’m angry. Every second I fear the next reason will be the final reason.” Her voice vibrates with emotion and I get. I feel it—this need to hold on, to keep holding on.

  “Baby, I told you. I’m not going anywhere. Ever again.”

  “You’re afraid to be straight with me. You’re afraid to tell me what’s really going on. That fear leads right back to goodbye. The moments add up, Rick. They did before. I notice them, too. I know when you have moments of doubt. I’m not blind like I was in the past.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Ten mission. Ten kills. The moment at the table when you knew I knew that. The moment in the car when you were in your head, judging yourself for killing Wes and deciding I must be, too.” I open my mouth to speak, and she holds up a hand. “Judging yourself for making me a target when we both know this is all so much bigger than that now.”

  “I told you. I’ve had a taste of you and us together again, baby. I’m too selfish to walk away again.”

  “That’s not a denial of those moments, now is it?”

  “No. They happened. They aren’t the end of us.”

  “God, I wish you could be that selfish person you claim to be now, Rick, but you aren’t. That’s not who you are. That divide that separated us, it’s forming again.”

  “Nothing is happening again besides us being together.”

  “You didn’t want me to know about Tag’s threat. You didn’t think I could handle it. I’m not stupid. I had a blade to my neck tonight. I know what a manipulator Tag is. He’s using my father as leverage. Why would he not use me? He’s already used me. I can put two and two together.”

  “As you pointed out, you had a knife held to your throat tonight, baby. Give me a little credit here for loving you enough to want to give you a moment to breathe before I unload another dump of shit on you.”

  “I don’t need a moment to breathe. I need to know the truth. I do better with the truth.”

  “I wasn’t lying to you or hiding the truth. I did make the judgment call that throwing that at you minutes after you were attacked or in front of people you barely know wasn’t the right decision.”

  “Would you have talked yourself out of telling me?”

  “No.”

  “Would you hold so much back that you feel like you need to leave and not come back again?”

  I drag my hand over her hair, tilting her face to mine. “It’s not the same.”

  Her fingers curl on my chest, wrap around the cotton of my shirt. “The only way you know that I can handle who, and what you are, Rick, is by including me.”

  “I’m brutally aware of just how clear you are on who and what I am, Candace. You watched me kill a man tonight.”

  “I’m not thinking about the monster you killed. You saved my life tonight.”

  “You are my life.”

  “I can’t be your life if you’re afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, baby, but can you say the same of me?”

  “Yes,” she declares adamantly. “Yes, I can. I’m supposed to be your partner, Rick, the one person who’s supposed to be your safe place. The one person you aren’t afraid to be you with.”

  “You are, baby.”

  “If that were true you’d trust me and us to stop being afraid. I saw the look on your face tonight after you killed Wes. You thought I was going to judge you.”

  “I didn’t just kill him. I enjoyed it.”

  Her hand settles on my face. “If he was going to kill you, I’d kill him and I’d enjoy killing him, too. And if I could have made it hurt, I would have. Would you judge me then? Would you call me a monster?”

  The dark rush of emotions inside me is anything but sweet and pretty. The roar of need inside me is anything but gentle. I twine her hair around my fingers and drag her mouth to mine. “I’d call you just what I do now: mine. Only mine.”

  “I’m not yours until you’re mine, Rick. And you aren’t mine.”

  “Oh, I am yours, Candy, baby. You just might not like what that means.”

  “Those damn words again. A man afraid of nothing but the woman he’s supposed to love,” she taunts.

  “Supposed to love?” I challenge. “What the hell, Candace?”

  “Love is trust, Rick. Love. Is. Trust.”

  “And that’s the problem, now isn’t it? You don’t trust me to stay, Candace.”

  “And you don’t trust me to love you, the real you.” She tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. I walk her right back into my arms because we’re not done. We will never be done.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Savage

  I step into Candace again, removing the space she’s just placed between us, aligning our legs. “You think I don’t trust you?”

  “I know you don’t trust me.”

  “Then I guess we better fix that problem because I’m here to stay and, baby, we’re going to get old, fat, and boring together whether you like it or not.”

  “Old, fat, and boring?” She laughs that sweet musical laugh of hers.

  And just that easily, I’m hot and hard, and hungry for her in a way only this woman can make me hungry. My mouth closes down on hers, my hand sliding under her hair to her neck, and when my tongue strokes deep she’s right there with me, all in, kissing the hell out of me. The anger that had sparked between us minutes before fades away, but her promise that she’s not mine, not yet, does not. It burns in my mind, taunting me, even as need burns in my body.

  I catch the hem of her T-shirt and pull it over her head. Her bra follows and with her prodding my shirt is off by the time I’ve turned her back to my front. I cup her perfectly perky breasts, flicking her nipples, my lips at her ear as I vow, “You are mine, Candace.” An image of Gabriel touching her has my voice roughening as I say, “Just mine.” I don’t give her time to argue or bring up Gabriel and that damn party Saturday night. Fuck Gabriel and that party.

  I turn her around to face me again and go down on my knee. My fingers work her jeans, hands sliding under the soft denim to her softer skin, my eyes lifting to her eyes. “Mine,” I murmur, not giving a damn how caveman I sound, my lips caress her belly where she trembles under the press of my mouth
and tongue.

  Her teeth scrape her bottom lip, and I swear my damn cock twitches. I want to lay her down and fuck her. I want to be inside her. I want and want and fucking want with Candace, but there is so damn much more than just sex in this room, between us. There has always been more to us than sex. From the moment I met Candace, she was under my skin. From the moment I met her, she was a part of me.

  That bond we share pulses in the air, but somehow as real and right as it is, she still doesn’t know I’m in this forever. Hell, I’d propose all over again, right now, but I won’t give her the chance to call it in the heat of the moment. And I need a ring. A ring worthy of her waiting on me for all these years. A better ring than dickface Gabriel gave her.

  I drag her pants down her legs, taking her panties with me. She leans into me and catching her slender waist with my arm, I lift her, fully undressing her. I toss her clothes and shoes, settling her on her feet. She stands there in front of me, naked, and some might say vulnerable, her hands on my shoulders, no attempt to hide or shy away from me. I have one of those moments she was talking about. She’s pissed. She’s scared. She’s nursing a broken heart. All of these things are true, but she inherently trusts me, even as her mind cautions her to protect herself. And after everything that’s evolved between us, that’s a hell of a lot of love.

  She loves me.

  I push to my feet and cup her face. “You asked me why I came back now and I told you that was the wrong question. We never finished that conversation.”

  “And I asked what the right question to ask was.”

  “Why didn’t I come back sooner? That’s the right question.”

  “Why didn’t you come back sooner, Rick?”

  “After that first brutal mission gone wrong, I hated what I’d done. And then I hated how much easier it got to keep on killing.”