UnWreck Me (Savage Beast MC Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  “She’s seventeen,” he rasps.

  “And? All this for some little girl, brother, I’m going to need a fuck of a lot more information than that shit.”

  He sighs. “She’s the president’s daughter,” he grumbles.

  I arch a brow, waiting for what is going to come next, because if this is just some shit about him getting his dick wet with a kid, I’m going to lose my fucking mind on him.

  “This club is fucked, brother,” he goes on, and as much as I want to correct him on the fact that he’s not my fucking brother since he became a goddamn traitor, I don’t. “It’s tradition for the brothers of this club to pull a train on the members’ daughters when they turn eighteen.”

  “What the fuck?” I breathe.

  “I’ve seen it happen once, I couldn’t fucking believe it was real. I’d heard rumors that they did some sick shit, but I couldn’t believe it, not until I saw it with my own fucking eyes.”

  “And you got blue balls for her, yeah?”

  “She’s gorgeous, sure. But she’s also sweet and kind. She’s not some hard bitch. She fucking volunteers for Meals on Wheels.”

  Nodding my head, I flick my gaze from him to the clubhouse grounds, then shift my attention back to him. “So, you want all of us to wait until when for this girl?”

  “If she disappears before she’s eighteen there’ll be a missing person put out on her and if I’m gone, then they’ll figure that shit out real fucking quick.”

  “So you’re gonna wait until after the train?” I ask, arching a brow.

  He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes on mine and presses his lips together. “Taking her before, fuckface,” he snaps.

  “What happens when you come back. You’re comin’ back, yeah?”

  The slight topic change is probably not one that he wants to discuss, but I want to know what his fucking plans are. I’m not going to wait on this shit if he’s just going to keep running and not face the consequences of the attempted goddamn murder of his own brother.

  That’s fucking rich, right? Me complaining about Jaguar running from his past when I’m on the verge of taking the fuck off myself. I’m such a goddamn hypocrite.

  “I’m coming back. That’s the whole deal. I come back and face the shitstorm that I created.”

  “The girl?” I ask.

  He shrugs a shoulder before he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “Don’t know.”

  “All this for a don’t know, brother? You’re gonna need to get your shit in order.”

  His head whips around and his eyes find mine almost instantly. “You think I’m the man to pick a woman? My track record is fucked, Hawk. Just as fucked as yours. That fucking cunt I was with, I let her turn me against my club.

  “Della didn’t want me, and I fucking made her miserable, tried to force her to be mine. Practically fucking raped her. I’m not the man for that sweet girl, I’m not the man for any girl.”

  “I killed my Old Lady and the mother of my child,” I point out. “Proposed and branded Avah last night. People can change, you’re allowed to find your happiness.”

  “If you’re so happy, how come you look like you’re on the verge of running far and wide?”

  He’s not wrong. As much as I want him to be, he’s simply not. “Because I’m a coward, just like you are.”

  Jaguar growls, but doesn’t say anything. He can’t. He knows I’m fucking right and it takes one to know one in this case.

  “I’ll let you have your play. My plans were to go behind Dragon’s back. I want these fucks to suffer for what they did and tried to do to Trista and Leighton. They’re sick and they need to be taken down.”

  Jaguar lets out a laugh. “Seems we went from being badasses to being fucking vigilantes. Maybe we should go straight and legit too?”

  This time we both laugh together. “The day the Beasts are legit is the fucking day I drop dead where I stand, brother. No money in being legit.”

  “No fuckin’ shit, right?”

  There’s a moment of silence, neither of us speaks as we just stare. I look straight ahead, seeing absolutely nothing as my mind wanders to thoughts of Avah and the way she looked this morning.

  The moment that I saw her, the bruises on her neck, when I realized that I hurt her and the way she had a flicker of fear in her gaze when she looked at me, no matter how much she tried to hide it, I saw it right there front and fucking center.

  Maybe there is something in going legit. Maybe Avah wouldn’t be in the danger that she’s in just being near me if we went legit. Maybe we would all go fucking broke and be goddamn miserable.

  “Thinkin’ about that shit, huh?” Jaguar asks.

  “Yeah, thinkin’ we’d be boring and broke as fuck,” I grunt.

  He snorts, then he jerks his chin. “We cool?” he asks.

  I want to say no. I want to tell him to go fuck himself. I don’t. Instead, I dip my chin and nod my head a couple of times. All that shit, what he did, it’ll come out in the wash. He’ll have to atone for what he did and I don’t know if he can ever pay for what he did. Trying to kill one of your own, over cunt? Not fucking cool at all.

  “Cool enough. You hold up your end of whatever shit you got with Dragon and these fucks pay for what they did, then we’ll be even cooler. Gimme your number just in case?”

  His lips twitch into a grin and he laughs as he takes my phone and starts to enter his number. “See you soon. Better get the fuck outta here so nobody sees you. If they do, I can’t protect you, not here.”

  “See you soon, fucker.”

  Without another word, I use my feet to roll my bike away from the clubhouse, I start my engine and I head to Marshall’s where I know the brothers I rode with are waiting for me.

  I try not to think about the Punchers, about the way they treat their own fucking children. Then I try not to think about Avah, about the way I feel at the fact that I hurt her.

  AVAH

  Glancing down at all the boxes that now line the room, I wonder where the fuck I’m going to put all of my shit and then I think about the fact that there’s at least double this amount in my apartment back in LA.

  “You need a place of your own,” a voice calls out.

  Turning my head, I’m surprised to see Taylee standing in the doorway. She’s wearing an oversized man’s shirt and a pair of baggy shorts that reach just above her knees. I know that uniform for what it is, I lived in it for months after I became a call girl. This is her armor.

  “I really do,” I say, lifting my hand to wave her inside.

  She walks into the room a few steps, but doesn’t sit down or come too far inside. She’s hesitant and I don’t blame her. This probably isn’t the best place for someone who had been sexually abused for months.

  “Are you doing okay?” I ask softly.

  Taylee’s gaze lifts to mine and her eyes connect with my own. I don’t know what I see behind her gaze, but it’s not the impassiveness she’s trying to convey.

  “How do you just… forget?”

  “You don’t,” I say softly. “Our difference was, he paid for a service that I provided for a long time.”

  “You weren’t providing that service when he took you,” she points out.

  Shaking my head, I press my lips together. “No, not that time.”

  “Then how do you forget?”

  “You don’t, Taylee. Not ever.”

  “How do you move on?”

  Shaking my head, I take a few steps in her direction, closing the distance between us. “You don’t move on. You can’t. You’re not the same person you were.”

  “I can’t live like this, not forever,” she exhales.

  “You move forward. Never on. Just onward and forward.”

  I watch as she wrinkles her nose, then looks to the floor before she lifts her gaze up to meet mine again. She blinks a few times before she leans in slightly.

  “I like Worm,” she whispers. “I feel wrong for that.”

  My lips curve
up into a smile and I can’t stop that smile from spreading across my face. I know that my eyes are probably smiling as well. It’s just so fucking cute. Worm seems really nice, but it’s Taylee that has my heart beating quickly. She isn’t dead inside, she’s confused because she feels.

  “Don’t ever feel wrong because you’re attracted to someone.”

  She shakes her head, taking a step back from me before she inhales a deep breath. “I should be healing. I should be working through everything that happened. My brother died. He died right in front of me, and I was happy to watch it happen. I’m not that kind of person and yet I was.”

  “You aren’t the same person, Taylee and you never will be. The Taylee from the past, it’s okay to reminisce about her, but you are not her, not anymore. Embrace this girl, this strong as fuck girl. And if you’re attracted to a decent man, when you’re ready, embrace that too.”

  “I feel really… dumb.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, I press my lips together again and let out a long exhale. “You’re not. You’re strong, strong as shit. You’re also brave. Now, do you want some clothes? Because I have a feeling most of this shit is just not going to apply to my lifestyle anymore.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asks, a sigh in her voice at the topic change.

  “Yeah. A lot of designer stuff. I don’t think the people of Eagar are ready for all that.”

  Taylee laughs. “But they would be with me wearing it?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “Yeah, I think they would, especially the resident’s finest computer nerd.”

  Her cheeks turn pink and I know that soon there’s going to be another branding. I can practically smell the charred flesh all over again.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  HAWK

  Marshall tilts his head to the side, confusion written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything immediately, but his gaze flicks between me, Gator, and Dutch. I can tell that he’s trying to figure out why we’re here, unannounced.

  “Hey,” I greet, jerking my chin in his direction.

  Marshall nods his head. “Hawk,” he murmurs. “Everything cool?”

  He shifts from one foot to the other, nervously, and I want to ask him if everything is indeed cool, but I don’t say anything.

  “Just here to visit,” I offer, shrugging a shoulder.

  He steps to the side, allowing us to walk into his warehouse, but he doesn’t go ahead of us, instead he waits for me to walk toward him. When I’m almost past him, he clears his throat. Stopping, I turn my head and look over to him.

  “Everything’s cool, right?” he asks again.

  “There a reason it shouldn’t be?”

  He shakes his head once, then he lifts his chin. “Had a run-in with the Punchers the other day.”

  My torso jerks and I turn to him fully before I plant my fists on my hips. “What the fuck? You didn’t call me, Dragon, anyone?” I demand.

  He looks down at the ground, kicking at the dirt, but not saying a fucking word. I wait, unwilling to speak first. He nods his head a couple of times as if he’s thinking and having a silent conversation with himself.

  Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyes finding mine. “They took my daughter. They said they were going to kill her,” he rasps.

  My body freezes. “What did you do for them, Marshall?”

  I didn’t even know he had a fucking daughter, and honestly, I’m scared to ask what goddamn age she is, especially since I now know what the Punchers do to their own kids. So, I don’t.

  Maybe Jaguar will feel moved to save her too, if his dick wants a piece of her that is. Because as much as he finds their behavior disgusting, he also isn’t in a hurry to save anyone except for the pretty young thing he has a hard-on for.

  His gaze shifts to the side, then comes back to meet my own. “It’s not what I did…” His words trail off and my heart starts to slam against my chest.

  What the fuck did this motherfucker do? If it’s something as bad as he’s making it out to seem, I’m going to have to end him, then it won’t matter about his kid, because he’ll be dead.

  “They want a list of product I send to you, along with shipment dates and times,” he mumbles.

  “Because?” I growl, getting more and more pissed off the longer he takes to answer my fucking questions.

  He shrugs a shoulder, his gaze lifting to meet mine. He looks terrified, but he also looks resigned. He knows that he fucked up in a huge way and Dragon was right to send me up here. He was fucking right to check him out, whatever his gut feeling was, it was spot fucking on.

  “Can’t tell you that. I just know that they’re keeping my daughter until the next shipment.”

  “Then you think you’ll get her back. Seriously?”

  His eyes widen and he gulps. He doesn’t answer me, but I can see it in his eyes. He knows the fucking truth of it and now not only is his daughter going to be used for whatever the fuck the Punchers plan to use her for, he’s not going to live to see another day as well.

  “The shipment goes out tomorrow, let me try to save her,” he pleads.

  “At the cost of what? My club, my woman? What’s the goddamn cost, Marshall?” I growl.

  He settles me with a glare and then he spits on the ground. “My daughter, my blood. Don’t give a fuck about much else, Hawk. I know you think your club is more important, but nothing trumps her. So fuck you if you think I’m sorry for what I did.”

  “Did? I thought you hadn’t done anything yet?”

  He lifts a brow, then shifts his gaze away from me. “I sent a shipment early. Went out last night. Should be there any minute.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? What are your goddamn plans, Marshall? To fuck us over, get your kid back, then what? If you think we won’t get retribution for your betrayal, you’ve obviously got the wrong fucking impression of me, of my brothers.”

  Before he can say a fucking word, I take my knife from my hip sheath, wrap my free hand around his shoulder, and shove the knife deep into his gut before I twist. Tugging him close to me, I press my lips against the side of his ear.

  “I’ll save your daughter from them, but only to turn her into the Beasts’ whore. You are fucking stupid, Marshall. Rot in fucking hell.”

  He gasps, a garbled noise coming from him, probably a protest of some kind, but he’s too far fucking gone to actually form the words. Shoving him backward, I watch him fall. His head makes a sick sound against the concrete and I watch a pool of blood form around his body, just as I hear a sharp intake of breath.

  Turning around, I jerk my chin toward Gator. “Call your woman, get her safe. There’s going to be trouble and it’s headed their way.”

  Taking my phone out of my pocket, I find Dragon’s name and call him. It rings and rings, and rings. He doesn’t pick up. Then, I call Avah. Same thing happens. It rings, and rings, and fucking rings.

  I call down to the actual clubhouse landline. Again, no answer. Pinkie always answers that shit, unless she’s choking on someone’s cock.

  “Fuck,” I hiss, turning to Gator.

  “No answer,” he murmurs. “What the fuck is going on?”

  AVAH

  I sit out in the sun, in my bikini, sipping on a glass of cold water, my ass in the kiddie pool. Turning to Trista, I can’t help but let out a giggle. I may be a hot mess of burned flesh and bruises, but damn I’m free. This is exactly what I needed today, a day with my girl.

  “Maybe you guys can just build a barndominium by us? Coyote and Gisele were here first, then Taz and I built our place. They don’t take long to put up and the inside can be whatever you want it to be,” she explains.

  Looking around, I wonder if I could live out here. Wrinkling my nose, I really don’t know if I could. Sure, it would be nice to be neighbors with Trista. And having the clubhouse close enough that I could just do a pop-in would keep Hawk on his toes, but me living out here in the desert and not actually in town… I don’t know.

  “It’s not like town is an
actual city, Avah. We still have to drive our asses four hours to do any real damage in Phoenix. If that’s why you’re hesitating.”

  It was why I was hesitating. It was exactly why I was hesitating. I was not made for country life. I was not made for desert life.

  My skin was already dry as fuck out here and I’d been putting lotion on at least three times a day, but none of that mattered, not in the slightest. The only thing that does matter is the fact that I’m with Hawk.

  What would happen to me if he didn’t come back? The thoughts wouldn’t leave my head. They wouldn’t go away, every second since he’d loaded on his bike and roared away, it was all I could think about.

  “You girls look like you could be on a calendar.”

  “Do they still make those?” I ask, glad to have a distraction from my own thoughts.

  Mamba’s lips curve up into a grin. “Yeah. I don’t think that shit is going away, ever.”

  “You know Playboy is going away,” I point out.

  His eyes widen before he narrows his gaze. “They’re still going to offer special editions,” he snaps.

  Pressing my lips together, I try not to laugh at him. The pure horror on his face, the defensiveness, I have a feeling that he’s been a lifelong member of the brown envelope bunny club, and he is going to stay that way, until he dies.

  I hear something. It’s the sound of crunching metal, then I see a cloud of dirt fly into the air as I turn my head and look to the side.

  “What the fuck,” Mamba whispers.

  I don’t know what to do. I’m frozen solid, bottle of water in hand, ass wet as I sit in the pool. There’s another loud crash, then I hear men’s voices and they are loud. Then they get close.

  “Get the fuck up, we’re going to my house,” Trista snaps.

  She’s already standing in front of me. I look up at her, then back at the door. They’re going to burst through there at any minute.