Savage Love

by Lisa Renee Jones

  I tilt my chin up and start walking.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Savage

  What happens next isn’t a pre-planned strategy.

  I exit the bathroom stall, walk right past a woman at the sink, and exit to the hallway and never stop walking. Determined to get eyes on Candace one last time before I leave, I re-enter the ballroom and weave through the crowd to come up behind her and Gabriel at the very moment the Pencil Dick grabs her ass. She whirls on him and points in his face. Anger comes at me hard and fast, as does my strategy. Tag has someone watching. He needs to know how serious I am about killing Pencil Dick, which would be really fucking serious. What better way than to boldly go where most men would not? I start walking toward Candace, and Asher, who has electronic surveillance set-up inside the event, clearly does not like where I’m headed. He bellows in my ear. “What the fuck are you doing?” I keep walking. He curses and then says, “You have five minutes to get over your fifty shades of stupid and out of the door.”

  I smirk at the inside joke, we toss back and forth, and keep on keepin’ on until I’m nudging past King Kong to catch Candace’s arm. “Candy?”

  She whirls on me now and her eyes going wide. “Rick? How are you here right now?”

  It’s an unintentionally perfect response. “Home sweet home was calling, baby.”

  Pencil Dick wants to die today. He wraps his arm around her. I decide that I might not kill him, but the hand that grabbed her ass will not work properly before this is over. Ever. A-fucking-gain.

  “She is not your baby,” he snaps. “Do not disrespect the future first lady.”

  “And you are?” I ask.

  “Her fiancé. Who the hell are you?”

  My lips thin. “Her ex-fiancé,” I say, and while my tone is cool, anger crackles beneath my surface.

  He scowls and looks at Candace. “You said you hadn’t talked to him in years.”

  “That’s right,” she agrees.

  Now his lips thin. “And here he is.”

  Meanwhile, my mind hums a little song: Itsy bitsy Gabriel went up the water spout, down came the blood bath that washed him to the ground. I almost smile with the catchy tune.

  “Here I am,” I agree. “Let’s talk about respect.”

  “Because you have none?” he challenges.

  “Considering you just grabbed her ass while a reporter took a photo, I assume you were the last person with respect on your mind.”

  “Oh fuck,” he murmurs, and eyes King Kong. “Find him.” He eyes me. “What did he look like?”

  “Tall white dude in a tuxedo,” I smirk with the stupid description.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Pencil Dick snaps. “Give us more.”

  “Curly blond hair and the only reason I’m telling you at all is to protect Candace.”

  Pencil Dick’s gaze shoots to Kong. “Go!”

  Kong turns away and maneuvers into the crowd and just like that, I’ve set up a path to Adrian freeing Candace from captivity. He too can report the mysterious reporter taking photos, and he too can send Kong on a goose chase.

  Asher snaps at me in my ear. “Now, man. You need to go now.”

  I eye Candace who really is too damn beautiful for my own good with all that long, silky brown hair and her creamy perfectly pale skin. “How about that drink?”

  Gabriel scowls at me. “Walk away before I call security.”

  “Talking to an old friend is a crime now?” I ask dryly. “Huh. Who’d have thunk it?” I incline my chin at Candace. “I’ll find you again.” It’s a reminder of our bathroom stall chat before I give her a wink and rotate away from her, but damn it to fuck, I just want to turn around, throw her over my shoulder and run. That wouldn’t make me a hero, but rather a selfish bastard who let her father die and her enemy live. For that reason alone, I keep moving. In long, unimpeded strides, I exit the ballroom and head south down a hallway that leads me far and long to an emergency exit. I’ve just entered the stairwell when my cellphone rings. I keep moving and snake my phone from my pocket to find Asher calling me instead of speaking in my headset.

  I stop dead in my tracks and answer the call. “What?”

  “Your father’s house is on fire.”

  My jaw sets hard. “Tag knows I’m coming. It’s a trap. Let it burn. Move on as planned. Get her father out of that prince’s palace, now, before Tag figures out this night is about more than me and him.”

  “We can’t find your father.”

  An unexpected punch of emotion slams right into my heart. “Someone other than me needs to find him.”

  “Adrian—”

  “I need to focus on Candace. Tell him Alejandro is looking for a fake reporter in a tuxedo with blond curly hair who took a photo of Gabriel grabbing Candace’s ass. Use the fake photographer to distract that asshole and get Candace out of here.”

  “Rick,” he says softly.

  “Stay the course, man. He’s fucking with me.”

  “If he knows you’re coming—”

  “Tell Adam I’m three minutes out.” I hang up and start walking again. There is no “if” about it. Tag knows I’m coming and I don’t give two fucks. Let him surround himself with an army. I’ll kill them all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Savage

  I step under the final stairwell, and actually step underneath the above level, where I reach behind a utility box, and grab the bag that awaits there. In two minutes flat, I’ve exchanged my tuxedo for a pair of black cargo pants, a black long-sleeved T-shirt, combat boots, and a black baseball hat. The tux goes into the bag, the bag over my shoulder, and then I’m moving again. I exit to the lobby level hallway, in another thirty seconds, and walk right to an emergency exit that’s been disarmed. Pushing it open, I enter the darkness of a damp Texas night where my Porsche 911 is now waiting with Adam behind the wheel.

  He pops the trunk and I toss my bag inside and slide another bag filled with weapons closer. I unzip it, slip on a shoulder holster and then load myself down with every weapon I can possibly carry. Once I’m back at the passenger door, I climb inside the Porsche, seal the door, and buckle up.

  “Drive this bitch like she’s the only beautiful woman you’ve ever ridden, man.”

  “To which house, Savage? Your father’s or Tag’s?”

  I shoot him a scowl. “Were you sleeping through those hours of planning? Drive the motherfucking car.”

  He curses and starts driving. “Do you really think, based on that fire, that Tag’s just going to be sitting there in that house he’s renting, waiting?”

  I don’t even have to think about my answer. Any hesitation I’d had back in that stairwell is gone. “Tag didn’t start a damn fire. The last thing he wants is to distract me from my mission. The last thing he wants is to piss me off before I complete my mission. Stick to the plan.”

  He pulls us out of the hotel and onto the highway. “If he didn’t set the fire, who did?”

  “My father’s a damn drunk. He probably left a cigar burning on the damn carpet. He’s at the party.”

  “Adrian’s team can’t find him.”

  “He’s good at hiding while he throws up.” My cellphone rings and I glance at the number to find Tag calling. “Speak of the devil. It’s Tag.” I answer the call. “What’s up, Dumbo?”

  “Am I to believe that you’ve left the party to go and save your piece of shit father?”

  “Is that what you wanted when you set his house on fire?”

  “I didn’t set his fucking house on fire, and he’s at the party. If I was going to set the damn thing on fire, I’d do it with him in it and after I put a bullet between his eyes. Arrogant as fuck bastard. Do not deviate from your mission over a stupid fire. You do what you were meant to do before that prick hugging your woman fucks us and her. Again. We both know he’s fucked her over and over. And we both know he enjoys licking her—”

  “Stop now you, bastard, or I will make you eat your own fucking fingers.”


  He laughs low and deep. “Do the job and you lick her yourself. Tonight, or her father dies. I’m out of patience.” He disconnects.

  Adam cuts me a look. “Well?”

  “He just wanted to make sure the fire doesn’t distract me from killing Pencil Dick Gabriel. He threatened to kill the general if I didn’t come through tonight.”

  Adam smiles. “Damn, I like it when the plan goes our way.” He reaches to the side floorboard and hands me a bottle of Vodka. “For old times’ sake?”

  “Hell no. I don’t want to forget killing Tag. And I’m done with the bottle man. When this is over, Candace is not tasting that shit on me.”

  “That’s a new you,” he says, tossing the bottle in the backseat and turning us onto the residential street where Tag has been staying. Another two streets over, he pulls into the drive of a vacant house, the heavily treed area allowing us their cover.

  I dial Asher. “We’re in position,” I say and when he answers I place him on speaker. “You have me and Adam on the line.”

  “You have five men in the living room,” Asher says. “One of those is Tag. Two at the rear of the house. One east. One west.”

  I don’t ask how he knows. I told him I didn’t need help. I told him to stay the fuck away from this, and yet he pushed and pushed for me to accept help that just keeps expanding. We have a recon team on the ground. I don’t complain but he proved my point. Tag’s men deserve to die. Not one of my Walker compadres deserves to die. They are my brothers, in a way not even the military gave me brothers. I will protect them, and Candace, by killing Tag’s men. “I’ll take care of the backdoor, and meet you inside,” Adam says.

  “I’ve got eyes on the backdoor,” Asher says. “I’ve got help one minute from activation. You can bitch at me later, Savage. Right now, hold on. I’m making contact with the rest of the team.” He goes silent a moment, and then he’s back. “Adrian has Candace in close reach. Reynolds is on the ground in Iraq inside Prince Yasmin’s castle. We’re a go in three minutes. Get the fuck in and out, so we can all go home and kiss our women. Well, except you, Adam. You don’t have a woman.”

  I disconnect and motion that “go” to Adam. We don’t speak another word. We’ve done all the talking there is to do. We have a plan. That plan is now in play. We both open our doors and get out of the vehicle. I shut mine. He leaves his open. I walk around the car and climb behind the wheel. By the time I’ve shut the door again, Adam is already gone, disappearing into the darkness. I give him a full sixty seconds to strategically position himself in a spot to end those backdoor guards.

  At exactly sixty seconds, I back the Porsche 911 up and turn onto the main road again. The houses in this area have a wide girth between properties and I drive a full block to the sprawling, well-lit property where Tag is now waiting for me to kill him. I pull into the driveway, kill the engine, get out and charge for the door. I don’t knock. I open the fucking door and head right inside. Tag’s wrinkly ass is sitting in a recliner by the fireplace. He has two men on the couch, with their backs to me, and two hanging out by the fireplace. I draw my weapon and the two by the fireplace are dead. Adam is in the room just that quickly, and he kills the two on the couch. Tag pushes to his feet but not fast enough.

  I point the gun at his face, fully intending to kill him. “Wait!” he shouts. “If I die, Alejandro will rape Candace before he kills her.”

  My eyes narrow, unease rattling in my chest. “He doesn’t work for you.”

  “Pocher is a fool and so is Gabriel. Never hire a paid killer to protect you. For the right money, he’ll kill you instead. Isn’t that right, Rick Savage? Kill me, and she dies after she’s raped.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Candace

  Smith and Adrian both ensure I know they’re present. Smith actually bumps into me and apologizes, and the moment he catches my arm and steadies me, I want to hug the man. Adrian just manages to always be in my line of sight, even while eating about every food offering in the place. These two men are perhaps the only reason I’m sane right now. At present, there’s a robust man with pink ruddy cheeks chatting with Gabriel while the brute of a man who is now my bodyguard hovers at my back. I can barely process the words coming out of the mouths surrounding me. There’s a glass of champagne in my hand, and quite out of character, I down the contents and set the glass down on a waiter’s tray. Right now, right this very minute, the men in my life—my father and my own personal Savage—are standing on a ledge that might crumble beneath them. If they crumble, I crumble.

  “You seem distracted,” Gabriel says, as the ruddy-faced man walks away and his attention falls on me. “Are you still feeling under the weather?”

  “That’s the first time you’ve asked me that since seeing me.”

  His expression tightens. “You’re angry.”

  “You said that earlier,” I point out. “My answer is the same now as it was then. No, I am not angry.”

  He narrows his eyes on me and then he catches my hand. “Come with me.” He doesn’t give me a chance to agree or disagree. He’s walking and taking me with him, the brute of a bodyguard following. Heads turn to follow us, pretty women eyeing Gabriel with lust and me with envy. Please. Take him. Take him now. He leads me out of the ballroom to a side door which places us in a narrow hallway.

  “Where are we going?” I ask. “You have a speech to give in ten minutes.”

  He flicks me a look over his shoulder. “Thirty minutes. They pushed it back.” He keeps walking and before I know it, once again, I’m being led onto a private balcony. I swear it’s déjà vu to the last party we were at together and not in a good way. Out here, I’m trapped. Out here, he can touch me.

  The night air lifts with the scent of honeysuckle and cedar that might otherwise be pleasant but suddenly I’m thrust against a wall, behind an open door. My God, does the man pay for a private balcony at these events just to grope me? Before I know his intent, his legs cage my legs, his hands settling possessively at my waist. “You look stunning in that dress.”

  His breath is warm and suffocating on my cheek. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Are you wearing a bra?”

  I prickle and fight the urge to knee him. “Of course, I’m wearing a bra.”

  His eyes grow hungry. “Show me and don’t stop at the bra. I want to see your pretty pink nipples.”

  “I’m not going to show you.”

  His finger brushes across my nipple, and I catch his hand. “Stop, Gabriel.”

  “I’m your fiancé.”

  “And the future president. Don’t grope me on the patio.”

  His eyes burn with a mix of heat and lust. His hands grab at my skirt, and he tugs it upward.

  “Gabriel,” I gasp, and so quickly, so very quickly, he grabs my panties, the panties I wore for Rick, and yanks them off me. I yelp and he holds them between us. “Something to keep with me when I go to New York tonight.” His hands creep to the inner side of my backside, and panic overwhelms me.

  “Stop!” I shove at him, fighting the knee that wants to slam into him, but I know I’ll endanger lives, including mine, if I blow the night’s plans. “Stop now.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls.

  Voices sound just inside the doorway. He pockets my panties. The brute steps onto the patio. “They’re asking for you inside the event, sir.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he says dismissively before he flips his attention back to me. “I got us a room. We’re going to go fuck away your anger before I leave tonight.”

  I can almost feel the blood run from my face, but he doesn’t notice. He catches my hand again and starts walking, dragging me along with him again. I end up in the hallway again, sandwiched between him and the brute as we travel back toward the party. The idea of having to have sex with Gabriel turns my stomach and I know that can’t happen. Whatever is in motion, I decide, is in motion. That’s it. I’m leaving. I’m getting out of here.

 
But already we’re entering the ballroom and we’re escorted to a stage. I endure being guided to the top and center of that stage to stand beside Gabriel, I even wave at the crowd, though it demands real effort. To my utter relief, Smith is to the right of the stage and Adrian is there, directly in front of me, and I try to tell him with my eyes that I’m going to run. I don’t know how he understands, but he gives a little nod. Finally, finally, I’m off the stage, and Gabriel starts talking about our military and prepares to hand out a few awards. I rotate away from the stage and run smack into the brute.

  His hands come down on my arms, big hands, dangerous hands, at least that’s the thought that pops into my head. “Where are you going?” he demands.

  “I have to go to the ladies’ room.”

  His expression hardens but there’ a flicker of something in his eyes—satisfaction, maybe?—and he motions me forward. I don’t understand that look and I don’t like it, but he’s going with me. There’s no way out of it. I hurry toward the exit door, the one I’d taken to meet Rick earlier, with good reason. I remember seeing a fire exit near that bathroom. I don’t look back or wait on the brute. He’s there. I feel his hard stare prickling my skin. The bathroom door is a blessed escape, and I push it open and seek the sanctuary of an empty bathroom. Everyone else is at the party, listening to Gabriel speak. Immediately my phone rings. I answer without looking at the caller ID.

  “Okay, sweetheart, listen up.” It’s Adrian. “Savage just called me,” he continues. “That asshole following you sold out to Tag. His order is to kill you if Savage crosses Tag. Savage has a gun to Tag’s head. We don’t know if Alejandro knows or not. We can’t risk the wrong move.”