Savage Love

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “We don’t have to do shit,” I say. “I told Walker to stay out of this for a reason. He will hurt you. Just step the fuck back now and let me handle this.”

  “We don’t step back from our brothers,” Blake says.

  “I agree,” Kara adds.

  “You cannot win against the Society,” I say. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “Kane Mendez can, but we can’t?” Blake challenges.

  “You aren’t connected to a cartel that cuts off heads and leaves them on the border.”

  “Oh my God,” Candace says. “We can’t get help from someone who cuts off heads.”

  “The cartel.” I squeeze her knee. “Not him.”

  Candace’s cellphone rings in her jeans pocket. “I have no idea who would be calling me.” She grabs it and glances at the number. “It’s unknown.”

  Blake and I share a look before I say, “Answer it on speaker.” She nods and punches the button.

  “Hello?”

  “Candace. This is Ted Pocher.”

  Her eyes go to mine and I catch her hand and nod for her to continue. “Hi. You heard about Gabriel I’m sure?”

  “Yes. I heard. A terrible tragedy. I also heard that you were here in New York City. We should meet. Let’s talk about the funeral and your future. And before you answer, I know Rick Savage won’t favor that idea. Tell him to come with you. I’ll text you my address. Be there at six.” He hangs up.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Savage

  “What just happened?” Candace asks. “What was that?”

  “A trap,” I reply. “One we’re going to turn on him.” I’m already dialing Kane, as I add, “Give Blake the address he texts you,” while listening to the ring of the phone that takes me to Kane’s voicemail. Irritated as a bee that just got pinched by his own damn stinger, I disconnect.

  Candace slides her phone in front of Blake, who now has his MacBook open in front of him, and after a few keystrokes of his computer, he says, “The meeting spot is a members-only cigar and whiskey club.”

  “Of course it is,” I murmur. “I need a number for Lilah Love. She’s Kane’s fiancée.”

  Blake goes to work again and then glances up at me. “She’s an FBI agent?”

  “Yep,” I confirm. “What’s the number?”

  “He’s Kane Mendez, and she’s—”

  “Lilah Fucking Love,” I say. “What’s the number?”

  Blake grimaces. “This gets more fucking complicated by the second.” He punches a few keys. “I just texted it to you.”

  I pull up the number and punch the call button. Lilah answers on the first ring. “Special Agent Lilah Love.”

  “I need to reach Kane.”

  She laughs. “And I need to follow a yellow brick road lined with M&M’s to catch the bad guys, but instead I get a trail of blood. He’s not here, I’m not his keeper, and this is not a good time for me to explain that obvious fact to you.” She hangs up.

  I curse and call her back. The call goes to voicemail. I might have to kill her, too. And fucking Kane Mendez. I eye Blake. “I need you to do that mojo shit you do and use her phone, or the FBI database, or whatever you need to do, to tell me where she’s at right now.”

  He studies me several long beats. “What’s Pocher’s end game?”

  “Us all dying. I need the damn address.”

  Blake grimaces. “Are you sure this is the right path you’re traveling down, Savage?”

  “It’s the yellow brick road lined with M&M’s,” I say. “I need that damn address.”

  “What if Kane doesn’t help?” Kara asks. “What’s plan b?”

  “I kill Pocher, Kane, Alejandro, and I’ll add a few more to the list.” I pin Blake in a stare. “Stop the bloodbath. Get me the address.” Blake’s lips press together, and he gives a “fuck, fuck, fuck” murmur which is pretty much his language of love, hate, frustration, and the need for a snack, from what I’ve observed before he starts tapping away on his computer.

  Satisfied he’s on this, I lift Candace off the chair and turn her toward the stairs. “Go get your purse, gun, and a jacket.”

  “She should stay with us,” Kara says. “We’ll keep her safe.”

  “You stay with me,” I say to Candace, in her ear. “Go now. Hurry.”

  She rushes toward the stairs and I turn to face Kara. “She’s going with me.” I don’t even begin to tell them they need to step back from this part of this story before the Society marks them. I don’t tell them how close to that they already are. Because they won’t care. That’s how stubbornly loyal they are, which is exactly why I have to save us and them.

  “I sent you the address,” Blake says. “I hope like hell this isn’t a mistake.”

  I have to save us and them, I repeat in my mind, and another situation claws at me, that I can no longer ignore. Not when it’s now landed in Blake’s lap. I lean in closer and soften my voice. “Her father.”

  His eyes narrow. “What about him?”

  “I ran a lot of bloody, questionable missions for Tag. And I took the jobs because he asked me to do it. Because I respected him. The orders that came to Tag read GM which I believed meant General Marks, but they could have easily stood for Gabriel Manning, I don’t know what came from who, when, or where.”

  “You think the general knowingly broke laws?”

  “All I know is that the general and Gabriel knew each other well enough for Gabriel to fear him. What if he thought he could control the general because the general had just as much to lose as he did? But then the general saw Gabriel’s true colors and decided his daughter was too high a price to pay?”

  “But he’d still have secrets to hide,” Kara assumes.

  “Exactly,” I say. “And I’m not sure where that leads us but you need to be careful with him. I don’t know what he’s capable of or even who else might want him silenced.”

  “I’m ready,” Candace says, hurrying down the stairs.

  I straighten, ready to head into the lion’s den that is the rest of this day, while breathing dragon fire right the fuck all over Ted Pocher. Right after, or before, either way, no preference on timing, I rip out Alejandro’s throat.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Savage

  A few minutes later we’re in an Escalade with Memphis behind the wheel. “Surely if we walk into the cigar club, he won’t just kill us,” Candace says.

  “Sounds like the beginning of one of Savage’s bad jokes,” Memphis calls over his shoulder.

  He’s right. It does, but I have no punchline in me. “No,” I agree. “Pocher won’t just kill us.”

  “Then why invite us there at all if he wants to kill us?” Candace asks. “What does he want?”

  “In our heads, to milk us like cows about to go to pasture. He wants any information we have that might hurt him. It’s all his own self-preservation. He’ll try to make us feel like we live if we ride and die with him.”

  “And then he’ll kill us.”

  “And then I’ll kill him.”

  “Houston, we have a problem,” Memphis says. “Looks like our destination road is blocked off.”

  I lean forward to eye the blockade created with wood horses, yellow tape, and cops. Obviously, Lilah wasn’t bullshitting about this being a bad time but I’m going to make it a good time.

  “Just pull us over,” I instruct. “We’ll walk.” He cuts to the curb and halts. I open the door and climb outside, offering Candace my hand, helping her out of the vehicle.

  “Can we get past the blockade?”

  “We don’t have to get past the blockade,” I say. “We just have to convince Lilah Love to do it for us.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  I wiggle a brow. “I have my ways.” I catch her hand and lead her through a gathering crowd, toward a portion of the blockade. I pinpoint a target, a plump, red-cheeked, police officer standing guard while lookie-loos hang about in front of him left and right.

  I use my lineba
cker-ish figure to push us to the spot directly in front of the cop. A petite little woman pushes up next to us. “My husband! My husband. I need to see my husband!” She starts to sob and then it’s all hell breaking loose. She tries to go over the barricade. The cop catches her arm. She slaps him.

  “Ouch,” I murmur, feeling that sting, and she didn’t even touch me. I also see an opportunity where it presents itself and I duck under the yellow tape, taking Candace with me.

  “This seems like a bad idea,” Candace says as we walk in between two parked patrol cars.

  “We’re good, baby. We’re good.” We clear the hoods of the cars and I eye the tape set up around a building doorway. That’s where we’ll find Lilah Love and I head in that direction, with Candace in a reluctant tow.

  We’ve just reached the edge of that tape, when a brunette no more than five-foot-four, wearing jeans and a blazer, steps from the building, with an officer on her heels. She whirls on him. “Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?”

  “Agent Love—”

  “You contaminated the scene. Leave.”

  “Agent—”

  “Do you know the difference between an apple and an orange?”

  The cop bristles. “Of course I know the difference between an apple and an orange.”

  “Then one such as myself can assume you know the difference between stay and go. Go.” She motions to another cop. “Get him out of here.”

  The shoulders of the fuckup cop bunch, but he rotates and walks away. Agent Love turns back toward the building door.

  “Agent Lilah Love.” She turns at her name and glances in our direction, closing the space between us.

  “Who are you?” she demands. “And why are you inside my crime scene?”

  “Rick Savage,” I say.

  “We didn’t order a stripper.” She smiles and eyes Candace. “I always wanted to say that to someone else. Who are you?”

  “Candace—”

  “Do you go by Candy Savage? That’s an excellent stripper name.”

  “Because Lilah Fucking Love isn’t an excellent stripper name?” I challenge.

  Candace laughs. “She’s right, Rick. It really does sound like a stripper name.”

  Lilah glances between us and then gives me a deadpan look. “What do you want?”

  “I need to reach Kane.”

  “I told you on the phone that I’m not his keeper.”

  “Just the woman that shares his bed that he’d also kill for?”

  “He shares my bed and I’d kill for him,” she corrects. “Which does not make me his business manager.”

  “He was supposed to meet me today,” I say. “Call him. Tell him, Savage—”

  “I can’t call him. He’s dealing with an unexpected situation. He’ll call you when it’s contained.”

  “That’s unacceptable.”

  Lilah folds her arms in front of her and just stares at me.

  “Tell him,” I add, “to shoot the motherfucker giving him trouble, and call me now.”

  “Unlike me, and apparently you, Kane doesn’t just ‘shoot the motherfucker.’ But I will. Especially you.” She smiles like she enjoys the idea. I think she might.

  “Okay then,” I say. “Let me tell you a story. Pocher, we both know you know Pocher, wants to kill Candace. He also wants to meet with her at six tonight. Candace is my Lilah. I not only sleep with her, I will kill for her which means that I’ll be killing Pocher tonight at six, and I’ll just let Kane deal with the aftermath. I’m sure the next guy in charge of the Society won’t have a hard-on to kill you the way Pocher does. And even if he does, I’m sure Kane can just chop his brother’s finger off, and make it all better.” I catch Candace’s arm. “Let’s go, baby.” We start to turn.

  “Stop.”

  I turn back to Lilah and arch a brow. “Yes?”

  “You’re a fucking asshole.”

  “And you’re a fucking bitch.”

  “That’s true. Meet me at Stephanie’s diner in an hour. You found me. I’m sure you’re resourceful enough to find it.”

  “I’ll follow the yellow brick road lined with M&M’s.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.” She turns and walks away.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Candace

  Rick and I settle into a booth at the diner, and the place pretty much reminds me of the diner in Seinfeld with cold plastic booths and just as plastic tabletops. He and I are sitting side by side, facing the door, which is good, since I’m far more worried about Alejandro rushing in and shooting us all dead than I am about Pocher right now. Meanwhile, Rick is edgy and quiet and I push to get in his head.

  “If Kane and Lilah don’t want to help,” I say, “aren’t we just making another enemy or enemies, rather?”

  It’s at that moment, that a plump, black woman from behind the counter, steps beside us.

  “I’m Donna. What can I get you?”

  I perk up. “What kind of coffee do you have?”

  “Pumpkin Spice Latte.”

  “Black,” Rick says, rubbing his chest. “I like hair on my chest. That pumpkin shit will burn it off.”

  “Pumpkin Latte sounds like a perfect fall flavor. I’ll take that.”

  Donna looks between us both and says nothing. She just walks away. “Has anyone heard anything about Alejandro?”

  “No,” Rick says. “But we all believe he’s here which is why we’re going to the private Walker firing range every day for the rest of your life. You need to shoot like Batman hanging from a ledge and laughing at the enemy.”

  I smile, which would be impossible with anyone but Rick. “Because that’s how you shoot?”

  “Hell yeah, that’s how I shoot.”

  Donna sets two mugs with whipped cream on them in front of us. “What’s this shit?” Rick asks.

  “Your coffee,” Donna says. “What else?”

  “My coffee. The kind without whipped cream.”

  Donna smirks and walks away.

  The bell chimes on the door and Lilah walks in, waving at Donna. “Coffee, Donna. Black. Cream. None of that frou-frou shit you like to give me.” She slides into the seat across from us and sets her bag on the seat beside her, eying Rick’s coffee. “I see you like the frou-frou coffee. Do you wear pink tutus behind closed doors, too?”

  I laugh. Lilah eyes me curiously. “Why are you amused?”

  I motion between them with a spoon. “Because there are two of you in this world.”

  Donna sets a cup filled with whipped cream in front of Lilah. “What the fuck is this, Donna?”

  “It’s what you get,” she says and walks away.

  Lilah sighs and grabs a spoon. “Just go with it,” she says, “When she gets in a mood, you only get Pumpkin Spice Lattes.” She takes a bite of whipped cream and I eye the giant diamond on her hand.

  “My God, your ring is gorgeous and huge,” I say. “Don’t you worry about people attacking you for it?”

  “I just tell them it’s as fake as the sock in their pants.” She eyes Rick. “Don’t kill Pocher. He’ll grow like six more heads, and they send a dozen more after you. Believe me, if it were that easy, I’d have shot the bastard a long time ago.”

  “And yet you tried to kill him last year,” Rick says dryly.

  “That’s true, but we had a unique opportunity, a chance to make it look like a serial killer took him out. Unfortunately, his brother was at his house, instead of him.”

  “You must have thought the next head that took over the Society was controllable.”

  “We did. Funny thing, about him. He ended up dead a month later. The next in line, after Pocher now is trouble.”

  “How are you alive, if Pocher wants you dead?” Rick asks. “You killed his brother.”

  “There’s a line in the sand between Pocher and Kane but it’s thin, too thin to suit me.” She motions between us. “Drink the coffee. Donna gets bitchy if you don’t and since this place is always empty, I come here when I a
m trying not to kill someone.” She waves at Donna. “Great coffee, Donna!” she calls out. “But you’re still a bitch!”

  “Then drink it, don’t waste it,” Donna calls back.

  “He sent an assassin to kill her,” Rick says. “Either Kane helps me now, or I kill Pocher now.” He picks up his cup. “Maybe he’ll negotiate with you for your life over Pumpkin Lattes.” He takes a drink. “That’s actually good.”

  Lilah’s cellphone rings and she glances at the number and then takes the call. She mostly listens, makes a few indiscernible remarks and then hangs up. “Kane said he’ll meet you at the cigar club, Savage, but not to take Candace.”

  Rick narrows his eyes on her. “How does he know we’re meeting at a cigar club?”

  “Because he does.”

  He studies her a heavy few beats and stands up, offering me his hand. “Come, baby.”

  “Kane says she should stay with me. She’s safe with me. Pocher avoids me, I have a gun that I like to shoot and a badge that makes it look pretty when I do. Plus you cut a man’s finger off for me.” She picks up her coffee and gives Rick a toast. “I owe you. I need to run by the station anyway. She’ll be surrounded by cops.”

  I catch his arm. “I’ll stay with Lilah. Don’t kill him. It’s not time. It doesn’t feel like it’s time.”

  He doesn’t agree. He simply kisses me and orders, “Be careful. I won’t be long.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Savage

  I walk out of the diner with Candace’s words in my mind: Don’t kill him.

  And of course, I know that I can’t really kill Pocher, not without unleashing the wrath of hell on us all, but everyone else doesn’t need to know that. Kane and Lilah need to be motivated to help us. Pocher needs to be motivated to negotiate. And sure, when I place my gun to Pocher’s head, he can revel in the idea that we’ll suffer after he dies, but he still doesn’t want to die.

  The moment before death can get the most unmotivated of a man motivated.

  With protecting Candace on my mind, I hunt down Memphis, open the passenger door and poke my head in. “Follow Candace and the woman she’s with but keep a safe distance. Text Candace and let her know you're there. And kill Alejandro if you see him.”