Savage Kings MC Box Set 1

by Lane Hart

  “No shit?” I reply since I’ve never looked into it. The Kings make damn good money, so even if it cost six figures, I could afford it. Not that I would remove her name from my skin even if I could. “It never shows on camera,” I point out.

  “You watch?” Sasha asks, her blue eyes widening in surprise.

  “Every night.”

  “Oh,” she says, looking away as her cheeks begin to redden again. “Well, WBRL is the most popular network in the area.”

  Because you’re on it, I withhold.

  “They have this special makeup for tattoos to cover them,” she explains.

  “Now I know,” I reply with a grin as hope blooms in my cold, dead heart.

  Sasha’s parents are loaded. Her father owns several car dealerships, not the shady used car kind but the hot off the factory line ones. Removing my name from her body after the accident would’ve been high on their to-do list. Hell, I assumed it was high on hers, but she kept it. She kept a piece of me with her. If I had known that when I first started watching her on camera six years ago, I would’ve been ecstatic and probably came to see her then. Stupid fucking makeup.

  “Anyway,” Sasha says with a shake of her head. “Here.” When the screen of her phone goes black, she presses a few buttons to bring up the image again and then offers it to me. What were we talking about again? Oh, right. The man she thinks is Torin.

  I take the device from her and bring it closer to my face.

  “Son of a bitch!” I exclaim. Using my finger and thumb to zoom in on the photo, I get a real good look at my brother wearing his cut, leaning against a brick building next to the greasy bastard that I recognize as the meth king of the east coast, who I’m sure the Aces distribute for.

  “Goddamn,” I mutter as I scrub my left hand down my face. Why didn’t I put it together before? That day I put a beatin’ on Johnny, the Aces bartender must have called Hector and told him Abe and I were at the bar about to leave. He sicced those assholes on us. And my brother…what part does he play in all of this?

  “So it is Torin?” Sasha asks, her blue eyes sparkling with triumph.

  “Yes,” I admit, since she already figured out as much.

  “And you didn’t know about him meeting with Cruz?”

  “Hell no,” I grumble. “The Kings don’t have shit to do with meth.”

  “So just your brother does?” Sasha suggests.

  “No! Fuck, no. Torin’s got an old lady and a kid on the way. He wouldn’t touch the stuff for himself or for profit. The MC makes plenty of money for him to support them. He probably has millions in the bank, so why…”

  I realize I’m saying all this shit aloud as I think through it.

  “You may be an asshole, but I’m sorry that you had to find out this way,” Sasha says.

  My mind's reeling, my thoughts going in a million different directions. So what if there’s a photo with Torin and a drug kingpin? That doesn’t mean Torin is dealing or buying or selling for him. They could’ve just been hanging out. Although, that doesn’t make sense either…

  “When was this taken?” I ask, as I forward the picture to myself to have a copy, and to save Sasha’s number.

  “Yesterday,” she replies.

  “Maybe Torin was there bitching Hector out for the three overdoses,” I suggest, thinking that’s the more likely scenario.

  Sasha clears her throat to get my attention, which isn’t hard.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Keep scrolling,” she tells me. “There are more photos.”

  I swipe left to pull up the next photo. “Mother. Fucker.”

  Torin is handing Hector an armful of stacks of cash about five times larger than the fifteen thousand stack that I got from the Aces.

  In the next photo, Torin’s looking around as if worried about someone seeing him while Hector and his men counts the money.

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” I exclaim as I clench the phone in my fist. Before I break the damn thing, I forward the other pictures to myself. When I get to a selfie of Sasha and her dad I hand it back to her.

  “You can’t go public with this,” I warn her.

  Spine straightening and sticking her tits out, she shouts, “The hell I can’t! I’m a reporter; this is what I do!”

  “If you don’t back off of this, you’re gonna get hurt!”

  “Worse than you hurt me?” she replies, her eyes beginning to shimmer.

  There’s no pain as brutal as having that particular truth thrown back at me. It feels like she took the knife from my belt and carved out my heart with it.

  Hell, I deserve it.

  “You’re right, I did hurt you, and I’ve suffered the worst possible punishment for it, knowing that you’ll never fucking forgive me…”

  “No, I won’t,” she agrees, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

  “And that even after all this time it’s impossible for me to stop loving you –”

  The last word barely leaves my mouth before her palm connects with my face. The resounding WHAP echoes through the otherwise silent house.

  “You don’t get to say those words to me,” Sasha seethes as her chest rises and falls in anger.

  Reaching up, I run my fingertips over the unexpected but deserved sting on my cheek that her hand left behind. “Why not?” I ask. “They’re the truth.”

  “Don’t!” she shouts, her blue eyes fierce and glowing. “Don’t you fucking dare…not after what you did to me. Get the fuck out of my house!”

  She still cares about me. Hell, now I even think she still loves me. Nothing invokes that sort of physical response from such a sweet woman except for hate. Hate because she wishes she could erase me from her mind, her heart, her skin…but she can’t, even though she’s tried. It’s hard to hate someone unless you loved them, and they hurt you beyond repair.

  I turn away from her to let her cool down, but I don’t leave. Instead, I go back over to the mess on the floor and finish cleaning it up so that Sasha won’t have to risk cutting herself.

  After a minute or two, Sasha clears her throat, warning me that a lie is coming. “If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

  Since my back is to her, I smile, knowing she can’t see it. “What are you gonna tell them?” I ask without looking at her. “That some asshole broke into your house and started cleaning?”

  She blows out a huffy breath behind me because she knows that I’m onto her, and I remember when she’s obviously bluffing.

  “I’ll, um,” small throat clearing and stammering, letting me know a doozy is coming. “I’ll tell the police that you killed that guy in the SUV.”

  Tossing a pile of wine-soaked towels into the trash, I look over at her and say, “Try again, sweetheart. You’re gonna have to be a little more convincing than that.”

  I wet some paper towels in the sink and then squat down to wipe up the last of the stickiness on the floor.

  “Sergeant Barnes of the Highway Patrol is on my speed dial. Should I call him?” Sasha asks, making me freeze. She didn’t stammer or clear her throat. She’s telling the truth, and I…I fucking hate it.

  “You should call him,” I lie through my clenched jaw when I stand up to toss the wet towels on the counter before facing her. “Because if you’re trying to make me jealous, it’d be much more effective if you knew his first fucking name.”

  Her front teeth bite down into her bottom lip when she realizes her mistake. “I’m done, so I’ll show myself out. Be sure to lock up behind me,” I tell her with a wink before I stroll over and walk out the back door.

  Once it shuts, I stand there a minute. Unable to leave her without another glance, I look over my shoulder to get a final glimpse of her. She didn’t follow me to lock the door. Instead, her back slides down the wall until her ass hits the floor. Then, she buries her face in her hands.

  I know she’s crying, and I wish I could hold her and make it better, but that’s not what she wants from me or what I can give her.
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  Ten years ago, I hurt her beyond repair. There’s nothing I can do or say to make her forgive me.

  Finally, I force my boots to take me to my bike that I stowed in a parking lot a few blocks over, comforting myself with the fact that this won’t be the last time I see her.

  Sasha’s stubborn with a wild side that’s drawn to danger. She won’t give up on the Torin and Hector bullshit, which means I’m not gonna take my eyes off her.

  Chapter Eight

  Sasha

  “It’s impossible for me to stop loving you.”

  “Ughhh!” I scream as I slap my trembling hands over my ears, as if that will stop the words from repeating like a broken record in my head. One of my palms is still burning from hitting Chase. I shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t stand there and listen to him lie to my face.

  How? How can he say those words to me? If he loved me, he wouldn’t have run. He would’ve been by my side when I woke up in the hospital, holding my hand, and telling me that everything was going to be fine.

  A sob rips from my throat as the pain of being abandoned by the one person I thought I could count on comes roaring back.

  God, I loved Chase so much. I worshipped the ground he walked on, so his sudden absence in my life without a single explanation fucking destroyed me. My scars and his name on my wrist are the constant reminders of the agony I went through, coming to terms with the fact that the man I loved didn’t really love me, at least not enough to stay with me through the surgeries and recovery.

  And I fucking hate that, even though we haven’t spoken in years, he could tell when I was lying to him. How is that possible? It doesn’t make sense. Neither does the idea of him watching me on the news every night. Was he serious? That stupid notion shouldn’t fill my stomach with butterflies. It doesn’t matter if he watches me or if he breaks into my house and cleans up shit. Not once has he apologized to me or explained why he gave up on us.

  In my heart, I never gave up on him. That’s why I haven’t been able to get his name erased from my body. I’ve gone to the tattoo removal office at least three times, mostly at my father’s urging, and once when I was first hired at WRBL because they insisted I remove the ink as part of my contract. All three times I left before I even finished the consultation appointment. The studio gave up fighting me on it once I showed them that I could cover it with makeup dark enough to prevent the black letters from appearing on camera.

  But seeing Chase tonight, knowing that he’s the one who killed a man and hurt two others on the highway and is into no telling what else with the MC, it’s time for me to finally put the past behind me. Hopefully, I’ll hear from the network in D.C. with a job offer soon.

  Until then, I need to quit clinging to the past, to a man I don’t even know, and who I still question if he ever cared about me at all.

  I don’t know why he showed up here and said those things when his main purpose was apparently to warn me to stay away from Hector and the MC. But letting this story go is not going to happen, especially not because he asked.

  Does Chase think that I won’t turn him into the police because of our history? He didn’t seem to believe me when I made the threat to try to get him to leave. But I don’t owe any loyalty to him. He lost that years ago. Now my safety and my career come first.

  I’m not naïve enough to think that Chase wouldn’t hurt me if it meant him or everyone in his club going to prison.

  Glancing at the phone that I dropped next to me on the floor, I pick it up with a shaky hand and go to my text messages, typing out a new one because I’m too upset to try and speak to anyone right now.

  The response is instantaneous.

  Leaning my head back against the wall, I tell myself that this decision is the smartest one for my safety and even my sanity.

  If only I could get my heart to agree…

  …

  Chase

  Being in the same room with Sasha, seeing her and getting to be so close to her has my head spinning as I ride back to the clubhouse.

  Thinking of how tough she is makes me smile with pride, knowing that she’s learned how to stand up for herself. When we were teenagers, she would always back down when her father chewed her out or her mom raised hell at her; and I always told her to hold her ground with them because it was time for them to stop treating her like a child.

  She really fucking hates me, though, which I deserve. I just wasn’t expecting her ferocity. And fuck, it was hot when she slapped me. I want her to yell at me, hit me, kick me, scratch my eyeballs out. Hell, she could do anything she wanted to work her anger out on me, and I’d let her. I know a better, more enjoyable physical outlet for her, but I doubt she would be interested. Yet.

  If she still loves me enough to loathe me so violently, then maybe I can find a way to convince her to give me another chance.

  After the wreck, Sasha said she never wanted to see me again; and I gave her space, knowing I had caused her enough pain. I didn’t think it was fair to keep harassing her or begging her to forgive me. So, I let her have the one thing she needed at the time — me out of her life, even though I needed her so fucking bad.

  Maybe this shit with Torin was fate’s way of giving us a second chance. I won’t fuck it up.

  Sasha’s set on getting in the middle of some serious heat, despite my warning. If anything, that probably just got her even more interested in digging, because that girl always did love a dangerous challenge. Nothing got her hotter than when I would take her for a walk on the wild side with me. She loved the thrill, the adrenaline rush as much as I did, which is why we were so fucking perfect together.

  When I pull up at Savage Asylum, I spot my brother getting on his bike at the other end of the lot.

  “Yo, Torin!” I call out to get his attention as I park and scramble off my bike.

  “What’s up?” he shouts back. “I’m finally headed home, Chase. Can this wait?” he asks when I approach him, still straddling his bike.

  “No.”

  When I’m close enough that no one else can overhear us, I say, “Why the fuck did you meet with Hector Cruz?”

  Torin’s eyes lower and his jaw ticks before he answers, letting me know he’s pissed that I found out about that shit. What can I say? I’m fucking awesome at reading people.

  “Who told you about that?” he asks, rather than give me an explanation.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Was it that goddamn reporter?” he snaps. Pointing his finger at me, he says, “You need to shut her up, or I will.”

  Stepping forward to get in his face so close that his finger digs into my chest, I warn him, “You’re not gonna do shit to her!”

  “Back the fuck up. Now,” Torin demands through gritted teeth.

  I stare him down for several more seconds before I finally take a step back, my hands balled into fists at my sides.

  “Look, if my name gets splattered across the evening news, it’s not good for us, the MC, and definitely not Kennedy. You fucking know that, Chase, so just get the woman to stand down,” he says. “Do you want to know what I was doing with Hector? I was warning him to keep his crank out of our city. Oh, and I told him that the next time someone pointed a gun at one of my men, I’d unload one in his face.”

  Goddamnit. He’s lying right to my fucking face.

  “That’s it, huh? Nothing else?” I ask, hoping he’ll explain why he was paying Hector stacks of money.

  “That’s it,” he lies instead of owning up to anything. “So, do I have your word that you’ll shut this shit down for good?” he asks.

  “Yeah, brother,” I agree as I back away from his bike and start to head into the bar.

  My guess is that Sasha will be diving into this shitstorm headfirst tomorrow, despite my warning. Actually, definitely in spite of my warning, just to show me that I don’t have any say over what she does.

  Boy, is she wrong about that, because wherever the hell she goes, I’m going from now on.
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  And fuck, I could really use a smoke right now. But when I pull out the pack from the inside pocket of my cut, I look at the damn thing a minute before I toss them into the garbage can just outside the bar with a heavy sigh. I’m still just as pussy whipped as I was ten years ago, not wanting to smell like smoke because I know Sasha hates it.

  “Hey, Chase,” Nikki says when she comes up to me as soon as I step into the bar.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “You wanna finish what we started the other night?”

  Fuck no.

  The response nearly explodes out of my mouth without any thought. But it’s the truth. After seeing Sasha tonight, Nikki naked on my bed spread eagle wouldn’t be half as appealing as Sasha in her pajamas without a bra.

  “How about you take care of one of my brothers tonight?” I suggest rather than turn her down flat.

  Without waiting for her response, I head to the basement and go straight to my apartment. I consider looking for Abe, but I just can’t show him or anyone else the photos of Torin, his president, going against the fucking club. Once I do, then my brother will lose all of his respect, and it could ruin us.

  Chapter Nine

  Sasha

  “Hi, thanks for meeting with me, Sergeant,” I tell him when I approach the two-person table on the patio at Darren’s dockside restaurant. It’s almost nine o’clock, so it’s dark out, but they have lights wrapped around every rail to give it a nice romantic glow.

  Sergeant Barnes stands up from his chair with a broad smile. “Call me Travis, please. It’s good to see you again, Sasha.” When he leans forward to hug me in greeting, I’m only a little surprised. I mean, I did send him a message asking if he could meet me for a late dinner tonight.

  After we separate, I take a seat, setting my purse down beside me before I start glancing over the menu since I’m not sure what to say. While my main reason for wanting to meet tonight was to see if the Highway Patrol has any new information about the accident and the MC, I know I should be excited about having dinner with a handsome man.