Annihilation Road (47 page)

Brandon nearly fell over trying to get on his feet. Swearing, he stormed out.

Savage took Lana’s chair, his thigh brushing Seychelle’s. “Hi, ladies, I thought I’d join my fiancée for tea this afternoon. As always, when she’s away from me, she gets herself in a little bit of trouble.”

“Fake fiancée,” Seychelle corrected. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she took it out automatically, glancing down at it.
You are in such trouble.

That’s a shocker.
It took a hot minute to type that reply back when she really wanted to laugh. He looked so relaxed and at ease sitting there with the women around him. He
was dressed in his jeans and boots, his tight tee and vest with his colors, looking hotter than hell. How did he do that? So sexy. And he’d left his meeting to come see her. To reassure her. He also hadn’t left her alone the way she needed. Maybe she should just kick him under the table.

“Ah yes, you did forget something this morning when you left so fast with Lana, didn’t you, baby?” Savage said. He picked up her left hand and displayed her bare finger to the women at the table. “Looks a little naked to me. What do you think, Inez?”

“Definitely naked,” Inez agreed.

Seychelle tried to pull her hand away. “Don’t encourage him.” He was up to something. She wasn’t going to like it, she could tell. This was retaliation. Big-time.

Savage pushed a ring onto her finger. It glided on as if made for her. As if it had been on her finger a thousand times and fit perfectly. She tried not to look at it, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t know a lot about jewelry or diamonds, but she did know when something was incredibly beautiful. The center stone was a fancy oval-shaped vivid teal-blue diamond. It nearly took her breath away, it was so beautiful. Small petals made of sparkling diamonds wrapped around the center stone like a flower, so they would lay on her finger perfectly.

A collective gasp went up around the table. Seychelle just stared at the ring, almost uncomprehending. She lifted her lashes and looked up at Savage, unable to think what to say. She couldn’t embarrass him in front of everyone and say no, she wouldn’t marry him, but she didn’t know how to feel. What to feel. She loved him more than she loved anyone. Herself.

She knew why he’d put the ring on her finger. It was so beautiful. It sat there, weighing on her, making her feel as if she was his, just the way he wanted her to feel, although she didn’t need the ring. Just being in his company did that. Breathing him in made her feel as if she belonged with Savage. It wasn’t the ring, no matter how much she wanted to blame it on the ring.

“You left home without your engagement ring?” Rebecca asked. Her voice trembled and her fingers shook as she placed them protectively over her wedding rings and rolled them back and forth soothingly. “You took it off?” She made it sound as if that would be a sacrilege.

Savage put his hand over Seychelle’s. “I like to tease her, but no, she didn’t leave home without it. Seychelle would never do that. This is the first time she’s ever seen it. I asked her to marry me some time ago, but the ring wasn’t made, so she called me her fake fiancé. That’s been a running joke between us. Ice finished it and gave it to me, so I brought it right away. I thought you ladies might enjoy seeing it as well.”

“Seychelle.” Doris whispered her name. “Let me see it, child. Ice made it. He’s so famous too.” She looked up as Sabelia came up to the table, carrying a tray with several teapots on it. “Sabelia, look. Savage and Seychelle are official. He isn’t her fake fiancé anymore.”

“Congratulations, Savage, you actually pulled it off,” Sabelia said as she put the teapots on the table. “The ring is beautiful, Seychelle.” She admired it for a long moment, then flashed Savage a grin. “You do have good taste. That was very intense, the scene with Campbell. He’s brought that girl in here more than once. He’s got a dark aura surrounding him.”

Savage sighed as the women began to pour tea into their cups. “Sabelia, do you think I could get a cup of coffee?”

“Your aura is as dark as they come,” Sabelia volunteered. “With a great deal of red swirling around in it. Wouldn’t want to try to figure you out. I’ll be right back with the pastries.”

“And my coffee,” Savage added.

Doris laughed. “I forgot you think tea is poison, Savage. He believes we’re trying to do him in with tea, ladies.”

Savage glanced at his watch. “Don’t think it, Doris, I know it. Blythe looks like an angel, same as this one right here.” He brought up Seychelle’s hand and kissed it. “But both are little hellions. They disagree with me on just about
everything and then sweetly ask if I want a cup of tea. Don’t you think that’s just a little suspicious?”

Seychelle couldn’t help the way her heart stuttered around him. Her big, bad biker sitting with the older women, making them laugh the way he did. He looked so wicked, his low, clipped voice so sexy she could barely stand it. A tearoom was the last place a man like Savage would ever go. He would never sit at a table with a group of older women, chatting, making them laugh. She knew he was there for one reason. For her. He was there for her.

He had his fingers threaded through hers, their joined hands on his thigh, rubbing seductively back and forth while he conversed. Sabelia brought his coffee and the pastries and sandwiches, which he ate with one hand so he could keep hers captive. It was impossible not to be in love with him, to slide deeper and deeper under his spell, when she knew she was only going to suffer more heartache if she didn’t save herself.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Savage suddenly pressed her hand tighter against his thigh and leaned close, his lips whispering against her ear. A touch only. The lightest of kisses, if it was even really that, but the caress sent little darts of fire racing down her spine, straight to her sex. He was addicting. It was scary how much he could wrap her up emotionally as well as physically.

The bells tinkled merrily and Eden Ravard hurried in. She waved to them, smiling widely. “I didn’t think my hair was ever going to get finished. It isn’t even long, and it took forever to get blown out.”

“Well worth the wait,” Savage said.

Eden giggled like a schoolgirl. Savage had gone to her house twice with Seychelle, helping out in emergencies in spite of the fact that she had four sons and a stepson, none of whom were ever around. The ladies fanned themselves and Seychelle shook her head. “Don’t fall for his charm. He’s a bad-boy biker.”

Sometimes Seychelle didn’t know who Savage was. He
rarely spoke, even when they went together to visit her older friends’ homes. He would prowl around looking to do repairs, and she would do all the actual visiting. Other times, he’d turn into Mr. Charm, like now.

“Best kind,” Eden said. “What did I miss?”

Doris nodded in agreement. “Look at Seychelle’s ring, Eden. You missed that.”

Savage brought her hand out over the table, securely trapped in his, for Eden to admire the ring. When she’d done enough complimenting, he kissed the stone and stood up, tugging Seychelle with him. She couldn’t help the way her stomach did little somersaults and her heart accelerated.

“I really have to get back to the clubhouse, ladies. I left a meeting to come here and see my woman. I’d like to borrow her for a few minutes if you don’t mind.”

She shouldn’t go with him. She didn’t need to be alone with him, not for one moment. She had to finish her lunch with the ladies, ask for a ride to her house—or just walk now that Lana was gone—and be alone just for a little while to think things over. The last thing she needed to do was be alone with Savage. Even knowing that it was the worst possible idea, Seychelle followed him right out of the Floating Hat.

“Savage.” She tried a half-hearted protest when he tucked her under his arm once they were on the sidewalk, heading toward his Harley.

Jackson Deveau, the deputy sheriff, was standing next to the motorcycle in full uniform, looking as if he was inspecting it. Savage didn’t even hesitate. He walked her right up to the motorcycle, ignoring the cop.

“Stopped by to tell you congratulations,” Jackson said.

Savage glanced at him, no expression on his face. “News travels fast. Thanks. Just gave her the ring a little while ago.”

Jackson frowned and then turned his attention to Seychelle as Savage swung his leg over the bike and settled onto the seat with a creak of the leather.

“Ma’am. Didn’t realize. I was talking about your man
and his little prank he pulled. It was a nice one, and I want him to know the full extent so he can gloat about it.”

“Don’t have a clue what you’re going on about, Deveau, so spit it out. Got a meeting to get to.” Savage’s tone, his voice, were as expressionless as the mask on his face. “Was just going to say good-bye to my woman.”

He was lying. Nothing gave him away, but he knew exactly what Jackson was talking about, and Seychelle wanted to know what it was.

“Those ladies you got all excited about buying a present for me for my birthday went right to Clyde Darden and asked him to name one of his fuckin’ flowers after me. Not just any flower either. They wanted one he could show all up and down the state. Wanted it to be named something heroic. Notice I’m givin’ you the details, Savage, so you can spend a lot of time thinking about how you got me good. Those ladies needed to raise a lot of money so Darden could grow this flower in his greenhouse and then travel to those shows and enter it. So they went to the Red Hat Society, two chapters, and asked if anyone wanted to help them out with their birthday funds so Darden could keep entering those damned contests. Red Hat ladies not only got behind the idea, but they decided to do fund-raisers for Darden in my name. And the fuckin’ flower’s name.”

Seychelle had no choice. She had to bury her face against Savage’s shoulder. Bite her lip. Count in her head. Press her hands tight in a fist into his abs. How he could sit there straight-faced she had no idea. Savage was definitely behind that prank, but how? She was
so
going to ask him.

“There’s a reason I’m giving you all the gruesome details, Savage. I believe in revenge. I bide my time, and I go for total revenge. You are going to know it’s coming, and you deserve it. It will be far worse than what you did to me. So enjoy this while you can—you got me good, but know I’ll be planning the payback.” Jackson smiled at Seychelle. “I’d say congratulations, ma’am, but I think you’re a little
crazy to be hooking up with this one. Think about what I just told you he did. That’s one of his jokes. He gets serious, and Lord only knows what he might plan.” He turned and walked away.

“You totally did that, didn’t you?” Seychelle demanded. “How?”

Savage shrugged. “The ladies were worried about what to give him for his birthday. Said he didn’t like birthday presents. I just mentioned how Darden names his flowers, and the conversation went from there. I don’t see how that could be construed as my fault.”

“You’re not telling me the entire truth, are you?” Because he wasn’t. She was certain of it.

He laughed, his gloved hand over hers. “No, babe. I’m not.” His smile faded, his blue eyes looking into hers. “I came here to talk about us. I only have so much time, and you left this morning really upset.”

Seychelle wasn’t going to lie to him. “I’m in love with you, Savage, but I don’t know if I can be what you need.”

“You’re exactly what I need, baby. We’ll work things out. What you saw this morning scared you. I shouldn’t have . . .” His eyes went even colder, and he cursed in his native language. “I’m not trying to be impatient. We’ve got time, Seychelle. You never have to get there. Never.”

She shook her head. “Don’t. You know that isn’t the truth. You need that, and I want you to have everything you need. I just have to think whether or not I can be that person.”

“I told you I would know. You respond to the things we do.”

Her stomach knotted. “I know I do, and I don’t know if I like that in myself. I don’t know how far I’m willing to let myself go. I have to really think about it, Savage. Living that reality isn’t the same as fantasizing over it. You have a reason for being the way you are. If I was only going down that path because I love you and wanted to sacrifice for you,
then I would be able to say yes in a heartbeat. But there’s a part of me that wants it for me. I don’t have any excuse. None.”

“Why do you think you need an excuse?” His fingers found her ring.

“Shouldn’t I have a reason for craving something like that? You don’t like yourself at times, and you were shaped into who you are. It doesn’t make sense to me. It isn’t normal.”

“What the fuck is normal, Seychelle? Because my normal is mixing pain and pleasure. That’s normal. That’s hot as hell. Arousing. And I’m as pleased as fuck it’s arousing to you. I know it’s difficult to think you enjoy that kind of thing when everyone around you has a different sexual practice, but what they do is their business and what we do is ours. You think about how much I love you. Think on that, baby. Think how much I take care of you and always will.”

Savage hooked his palm around the nape of her neck and dragged her to him for one of his long, claiming kisses that stole her sanity, then indicated for her to go back into the tea shop. He waited until she was safe inside before he took off on his bike. She listened to the pipes fade away before she joined the others.

Seychelle walked to her cottage. She needed to feel the fresh sea air on her skin and listen to the roar of the waves as they raced to the bluffs and crashed against them. She had purchased the house on the narrow road across from the headlands because she liked the privacy and the close proximity to the ocean.

She detoured and took a path through the tall grass leading to the bluffs. The grass rippled with the wind, bending and swaying as if dancing to the sound of the waves as they rushed the rocks. The wildness of this coast appealed to her. The Southern California coast was warmer and so much more predictable, but here there were rip currents and undertows, and the water was cold and crazy rough.

She wrapped her arms around herself and walked slowly along the path she’d taken hundreds of times. It was narrow and all sandy dirt. Gulls screamed and dove at the water or circled the sea stacks before settling and folding their wings. Some of the birds squabbled in the air, making her want to laugh.

She loved Sea Haven and her little home here. She’d come here at her lowest, when she knew she was going to die. She’d been so exhausted, barely able to stand most of the time. Walking to the bluffs had become her first goal, and then to the town of Sea Haven. She couldn’t believe how far she’d come, how much stronger she’d gotten. How much happier she was.

She lifted her gaze to the sky and the seagulls again. Savage made her happy. There was no doubt about that. He made her feel as if she wasn’t alone when she’d been so terribly lonely even in the middle of a crowd. Truthfully, when she’d tried to date and hadn’t reacted at all to any man kissing her or touching her, she’d felt as if she wasn’t normal. So why was she upset that she was reacting to him and his brand of sex? Why did she have to question everything good that came her way?

She turned back toward her house and began to walk slowly. She still could die very young. Just because she was feeling stronger and she was with Savage didn’t mean her heart was suddenly better. She hadn’t gone to a doctor. They hadn’t actually been successful at stopping her from taking on an illness, because they hadn’t tried yet. She still wanted to live life to the fullest, experience everything she could. She didn’t want to miss anything. Why was she suddenly thinking about retreating from Savage? It made no sense. She was panicking, just the way she always did.

She put her hand over the ring he’d had made for her. She was looking up the diamond when she got home. She’d never seen one like that. She knew Ice was a famous jeweler, although few knew he was a biker, just that his pieces were sought-after. She was certain that if anyone knew he was a biker, it would make the demand for his jewelry skyrocket.

Savage and she had just moved so fast, she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. She was a processor. She liked to think about things. She wasn’t impulsive, as a rule. She
liked the way they’d been at the beginning of their relationship, when she could lie on the bed with him and not worry about what was coming next and how fast she’d have to get there. At least, that was what she told herself, because it was so much easier than facing the truth.

Seychelle didn’t want to have to figure out why she’d been born the way she was. Or if not born with those little dark corners, why she’d developed them. How deep did they go? Could she stop before she got into territory that was beyond what she thought was too much? How much was too much? How did she even answer those questions? She needed to go into her haven of safety, sit in her favorite spot on the bed and just let herself meditate. Maybe the answer would come.

The house was cool and shadowy when she unlocked the front door and stepped inside. All the shades were drawn over the windows. She frowned, wondering if Savage had pulled them down so people couldn’t see in while they were at the other house. She’d never done that. She had live plants in the house, and they thrived on light. She went to the window closest to the door and raised that shade.

It wasn’t like her cottage was large. The rooms flowed into one another, and when she turned and looked straight from the cozy living room to her kitchen, her breath caught in her throat. Facing her, seated at the table as if he belonged there, was Joseph Arnold. There was a gun in front of him, just lying there on the kitchen table, right within his reach.

“You’re home.” He sounded strange, like a lover welcoming her back after a long absence.

Seychelle’s mouth went dry, and she glanced at the door. She was only a few feet from it. Could she make it out? She had no idea why, but she knew with absolute certainty he had come there to kill her. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. I didn’t think you’d ever get back. Those old ladies take up far too much of your time,
Seychelle. You’re always helping them when you should be paying attention to your duties here at home,” Joseph scolded.

A million things ran through her mind at top speed. She’d read about stalkers when Joseph Arnold had first begun turning up at every venue she’d sung at. Then small things disappeared from her home. She’d talked to a police officer in San Francisco. The officer had been kind but explained that Arnold hadn’t really done anything that could be construed as threatening at that point. Once he identified himself as a music scout, he appeared to be trying to help her. The cop believed her, but still said with regret that there was nothing they could do. They couldn’t catch him at anything.

Seychelle had tried to be very clear with each encounter she’d had with Joseph that she wasn’t interested, but it never seemed to faze him. He kept following her everywhere she went. She’d thought after Savage’s rather violent reaction, he would stop, but he didn’t. There he sat, right at her kitchen table, as if he owned the place—and her. He acted as if he thought they were in a relationship.

She walked farther into the room, going to the next window and raising the shade. “You know something? You’re right. I do spend way too much time with all of them. I feel so bad for them. Most of them are completely alone in the world. I sort their medications out for them and make certain they have groceries, but I do stay too long. It tires me out.”

Deliberately, she walked past him to enter the bedroom. It was easy to see into the room, and again she went straight to the window and raised the shade. “I thought I’d change my clothes really quick. I like to get comfortable in the evenings. Are you hungry? I was going to make myself a salad.”

She went to the dresser, pulled off the engagement ring and placed it in the top drawer. Right there, she exchanged
the top she wore for a long sweater. The sweater went almost to her knees. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she removed her shoes and then went back over to the dresser to shimmy out of her jeans. As she did, she grabbed her phone and hit the contact number of the last person she’d called—Savage.

“Joseph. Did you want a salad?” She pulled on leggings and slipped the phone into the pocket as she called to the intruder loudly.

When she looked in at him, he had the refrigerator open and was staring at the contents. Very slowly he turned back to her, his face flushed, eyes narrowed. “Why do you have a steak marinating in here? You’re a vegetarian.”

“Doris was coming over. She wasn’t feeling very good—one of her migraines coming on—so she gave me a rain check. Why?” She walked straight over to the table where he’d been sitting and stared in feigned horror at the gun. “Oh my God, Joseph, you brought a gun into my house. Is it loaded? Why did you bring that here? You know I hate guns. Get it out of my sight right now.” She started to cry, backing away from the table, hands in the air. “Why did you bring that in here? Just go. That was so mean of you. You know guns freak me out. Go, get out of the house and take that horrid thing with you.”

Seychelle turned and ran into the bedroom and flung herself on the bed, crawling up it to the headboard, pulling the sheet over her so she could hide the cell phone. Hopefully, Savage was hearing every single dramatic word. She put her face in her hands and sobbed. It wasn’t that hard to do. She really was scared. She just didn’t cry in loud, heaving wails that could wake the dead, as a rule.

Joseph came into the room a few minutes later, looking around and then dropping into the chair in the corner of the room. “It’s all right now, Seychelle. Stop crying. It’s gone. I’ve put it away.”

“It’s still in the house. I know it is. I didn’t hear the door
open. Go put it in your car, or on the porch. I don’t want it inside my house.” She hiccupped and sobbed in between each word.

“That’s unreasonable. If you can’t see it . . .”

She cried harder and shook her head. “Why are you here? You ruined everything. I thought we could eat together and just have a nice time, but you had to bring that horrid thing into my house for no reason. I mean it, Joseph, get it out of here.”

She kept her head down, face in one hand, but with the other she mopped the tears with the hem of the sheet. She really wanted Joseph to take the gun outside. If Savage and his brothers from Torpedo Ink showed up, she didn’t want bullets flying.

Why hadn’t she thought to call 911? It hadn’t even occurred to her. She had automatically turned to Savage for help.

“Seychelle.” Joseph’s tone was sharp. Nasally. His temper was beginning to fray. “Stop crying. You can’t see the gun. I put it in a drawer, out of sight.”

She didn’t want to take a chance on making him angry with her. As slowly as she thought she could get away with it, she lowered the sheet from her face and dashed at the tears with her palm. With the other hand she made certain to turn the phone over, so the speaker was facing upward. Savage was her lifeline, and she knew he would come. She
knew
it. That told her everything she needed to know about her relationship with him.

She
might have uncertainties about herself, but she wasn’t unsure of Savage. He was never going to let her down. He came to her visits with her elderly friends and went out of his way to make sure their homes were safe for them. He didn’t like talking but went out of his comfort zone to be charming. He told her ahead of time what to expect and made everything her choice. He gave her adventures she would never have on her own, and she loved them even if sometimes she
was scared. Savage would come because she could count on him. That was an absolute certainty.

“Are you certain I won’t come across it when I’m making our salads? I have to get out utensils.” She was careful to keep a wobble in her voice. She risked a quick look at his face, not wanting to take things too far but needing to stall. How long did it take to get from Caspar to Sea Haven on the Harleys? Ten minutes? Less? Five? She had to think in terms of longer. The longest. What if they had gone out of town? The club did that sometimes, and when it was club business, Savage didn’t tell her.

“Make the salad for us, Seychelle. You won’t find it, but if you get close, I’ll warn you and get whatever you need out of the drawer for you.”

She wiped her face again and nodded. “Thank you.” She forced herself to slip off the bed and walk on bare feet right past him.

Joseph turned to follow her. He was so close she could smell him. His drug of choice was cocaine, and that, mingled with his natural body odor, sickened her. She coughed delicately into her elbow and kept walking. In the kitchen he toed a chair around, straddled it and stared at her with a little smirk on his face.

“Tell me what those old ladies had to say that was so exciting you were late getting home. I saw Inez; she’s such a busybody.”

Seychelle retrieved the items she would need to make a salad from the refrigerator. She took her time, still stalling. Still hoping. “Why do you say that? Has she said something to you?”

Joseph glared at her. “Said she noticed I was always watching you.”

“She never said a word to me.” Inez hadn’t, and she should have. “I hope you told her you worked in the music industry and were just trying to find a way to help me be successful.”

He watched her wash all the vegetables before spinning the lettuce to get it dry. “You don’t want to be successful; that’s why you always quit.”

She sighed and half turned to face him, as if in resignation. “I don’t like to admit it, even to myself, but my health isn’t very good, and after a while, singing in bars is exhausting. I went to a doctor, and he told me if I kept it up, I wouldn’t live very long.”

Joseph’s face darkened into a scowl. His eyes narrowed to twin points of blazing anger. “If that’s true, why would you sing in that biker bar?”

Where the hell were her rescuers? How long had it been? It felt like a million years had gone by. She took a deep breath and let it out, striving for a normal voice. “You know I love to sing. Did you hear that band? I’ve never, not once in my life, had the opportunity to sing with a band like that. It was amazing. The good thing is that they don’t play on a regular basis. I wouldn’t have to commit to singing every weekend. I could pick and choose when I felt up to it. They’re kind of laid-back that way.” She poured enthusiasm into her voice.

“Are you fucking them?” He spat the words at her.