The Revenger (13 page)

His green eyes seemed to drink in the sight of her face. They sparkled and radiated victory. He bit his lip.

When she found her voice, she settled all her hate for him there. Whatever these other emotions, she had felt that the longest. “I could care less how much it was worth. It sure as hell meant nothing to me.”

He watched her lips while she spoke.

“Savannah, can you feel this? The pull? I feel like the world turns from right here. It revolves around us; we’re the center. Kiss me.” He leaned down as if saying it would make it so.

She licked her lips and almost gave in to him, despite everything, when the gold ring on his hand brushed against her arm. She felt a sudden stab of her pent-up power.
He has it in his fucking ring!
She turned her head, and his lips met the top of her hair. She grabbed his hand, though it hurt to do so, and tried to pull his ring off.

He quickly thwarted her efforts and grabbed her wrists. He pinned them behind her back and watched her struggle. He barked a low laugh as he pulled her harder against him. “If you had kissed me right now? When I asked? You might have bored me. God bless you, Savannah. You’re like none of the others. Do you want my ring? I’ll bet you do.”

He transferred her two wrists into one of his long-fingered hands. He used his free hand to trace her face. When he got close to her mouth, she snapped at him, trying to bite.

He laughed again. “Yes. Yes! Fight me. Christ, I will have you tonight. Fight me the whole damn time.”

Savvy turned her head and held back her tears.
Fucker.
She attempted to kick him in the nuts, but he easily blocked her and stepped between her legs. The railing bit into her arms and back as he leaned against her to keep her still. Her dress made a distressed ripping noise as the slit elongated to reveal more of her thigh. She briefly wondered where Boston was, but then remembered he protected her every day so Sagan could do this very thing to her.

“Kiss me, Savannah. Give me a little tongue.” Sagan leaned down again, which was stupid. Didn’t he know she would just bite him? She turned her head again and was surprised to see people walking up the stairs from the beach.

“Sagan! Has it gotten so bad that you have to force them nowadays?” The voice was playful and deadly.

Sagan cleared his throat and backed away. He slung his arm around her shoulders like they were on a date. She ducked out from under his grasp and stepped behind him.

“Hey, pretty4, you all right? Saggie hasn’t hurt you, has he? I can always give him a good spanking for you.” The man stepped into the pool of light that lay on the deck like a blanket.

“Jack, this is Savannah. She’s my newest girl. She won’t be needing you to defend her.” Silas nodded in her direction.

Jack, the defender of pinned girls, looked past Silas to smile into her eyes. She wished she could see his aura. If Jack was coming here without a gun pointed to his head, he was likely a bad guy. But he held out a hand to Savvy.

While everyone else had dressed like this party was a fancy wedding, Jack wore a white T-shirt and low slung, well-distressed jeans. Leather cuffs and layers of stones on leather strings around his neck completed the look, and his forearm had a few tattoos.

He tipped his hat. “You don’t mind if I take your new girl out on the dance floor for a spin, do you?” Jack didn’t give Sagan the chance to answer. “Great! Thought so. Savannah, would you care for a dance?”

Savvy nodded and accepted the hand Jack offered. At least he wasn’t wearing a ring like Sagan’s. When Savvy looked over her shoulder, she cringed as Sagan punched the porch railing hard enough to make a cracking sound. Jack held her hand tightly and pulled her to the center of the dance floor.

Even though the music vibrated the room and the people around them were grinding and gyrating, Jack assumed a formal, ballroom dance position.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to get you out of here?” he murmured.

Savvy looked at his face, confused.
Who the hell is this guy?

Boston walked by and touched her hip. When she met his eyes, he shook his head. He didn’t need to speak for Savvy to know going with Jack could be deadly for Tobias.

“No, but thanks for offering. Who are you? I didn’t think anyone talked to Sagan that way.” Savvy took another look at her white knight. He had high cheekbones, a deep tan, and white teeth framed by a neat goatee. His long hair was held back in a ponytail.

“Hmm…I guess you could say Silas and me? We’re not the regular kind of friends. But I have to point out, he’s usually beating the willing ladies away, especially those that are his.”

Jack was a strong leader, and Savvy did her best to follow him across the dance floor. He smiled as he spun her and returned his hand to her lower back. It felt warm.

She remembered Boston telling her this night was dangerous for many reasons, including the presence of Sagan’s enemies. Savvy knew right where Sagan was; she could feel his existence with her entire body. She shivered as she felt his hot gaze demanding her attention. He’d come in from the balcony.

When Jack turned them, she watched as Sagan cleared a table of his hangers-on with one angry hand gesture. He picked up a glass of clear liquid and met her eyes across the room. He was furious. Savvy watched the worried looks fan out from one person to the next like he was ground zero.

Dancing with Jack was playing with fire.

“I don’t belong to anyone. What kind of ass-backward caveman mentality is going on here?” Savvy shook off her dread and looked back into Jack’s handsome face.

He dipped her and leaned close to her lips. She turned her head, and he whispered, “Say the word, and I’ll take you from him. I hate to see a woman mistreated.”

She sighed and patted his shoulder thankfully as she answered. “I’ll keep that in mind. I think dancing with you is not the greatest choice right now.”

Jack’s eyes looked troubled, but he released her instantly. He halted a passing waiter and grabbed two glasses of champagne, passing one to Savvy. She drained it like it was water and set the glass back down on the tray.

Jack still held his full glass with an amused look on his face. “I was going to toast our new friendship, but wow, you’re thirsty.”

Savvy took his glass and pounded it too. Jack began to chuckle. “Well, princess, I’d better leave you to your own devices. Your captor is looking surly. My offer stands.” He looked at her knowingly, then bent at the waist to kiss her hand.

If her brain wasn’t so full of bubbles and alcohol, she might have wondered if he was genuine or not. Instead, she just giggled.

Boston swooped in as soon as Jack had cleared. “You better get over there. He’s going to go ballistic.”

“I don’t even want to pretend to care.” Savvy knew her voice was a little slower, slurring even.

Sagan sat alone at his table. He glowered at her, fuming.

“You can care or not care all you want, but remember: he’ll take his anger out on everyone, not just you.” Boston waved her in Sagan’s direction.

Playing With Fire

Toby’s night thus far had been a sickening repeat of the numerous nights before it: No Savvy. No sign of Savvy. No evidence she’d ever existed. He’d shoved her picture in the faces of patrons at crappy bars and tattoo parlors—anywhere he could. He’d gotten vague answers from cracked-out bums, but no leads.

His sister had vanished. Savvy had wanted to die for so long, maybe she just ceased to exist out of sheer determination.
She could be dead. She’s probably dead.

He wished he could control his mind and forbid it from imagining the things that could have befallen his sister. The thought that reoccurred most often was that Savvy had figured out a way to end herself with her crazy strength. Anything out of the ordinary called to him now. No scenario seemed too far-fetched. Maybe he was manufacturing leads because he needed hope to hold on to.

With all this swirling in his head, Toby had to pull over when he saw her: a solitary woman standing on the sidewalk in the worst part of town. She looked like she was waiting for him.

And she didn’t look like a hooker. He turned off the engine and removed his helmet. He watched her, but remained straddled on his machine. He had yet to see her face, as she was covered by the shadows thrown from the dying streetlight. Her hair looked like knives—short and aggressive—and the hazy blue light silhouetted her small body.

The quiet night spread between them.

She seemed to be in no hurry, and she didn’t fidget. She didn’t flinch when a car door slammed nearby. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he could feel her gaze.

More car doors closed, and a group of men migrated their way. Toby got off his motorcycle. Either the men were with her, or she would be a target. The bits of conversation that floated through the night like a premonition made that clear enough. The woman shook her head once and held up her hand. Toby stopped and took a deep breath. Adrenaline filled his veins and pounded in his head.

“Look, boys! Ask and you shall receive. I told you we needed some pussy, and look what we have here.” The thug’s statement was heartily seconded by his friends.

Toby squinted and tried to make a plan, but it all happened too fast.

The woman pulled a gun from behind her back and turned to face the men coming her way. She didn’t warn them or threaten them, just unloaded her pistol at their feet.

Toby hopped back on his motorcycle and tried to get his key in the ignition. He looked up to see the gang of men running away like third graders headed for the last open swing.

“Toby, don’t leave.” The woman finally spoke, and her voice was oddly pleasant.

He stopped because she knew his name, and goddamn it, maybe that meant she knew something about Savvy. After the show he’d just witnessed, he couldn’t help but see the parallels between this woman and his sister. She tucked her gun behind her back and held up her hands in the universal gesture for surrender.

Toby put the key in the ignition, but stilled as she walked over. The woman was slight; he would never have pegged her for a gun-toting badass.

When she was an arm’s length away, he could finally make out her face. She was a delicate beauty, better suited for ballets and art studios than dirty, dangerous streets.

“Savvy’s alive,” she said as she resumed her patient stance.

His sister’s name stirred up the adrenaline again. He gave the woman a hard stare. “I’ve had a lot of prank calls and stupid comments regarding my sister. I’m sick of it. How the hell do you know my name?”

“Come sit with me in my car. It’s more private. I’ll tell you everything I can.” The woman took a step backward, motioning to the black SUV parked at the end of the street.

It felt like a trap. This was all wrong. This person knew his name, what he wanted to hear most in the world, and that he would be riding down this road tonight.

She saw the distrust in his eyes and sighed. “You want some proof? Fine.”

She opened her jacket, and Toby flinched, waiting for another gun. She shook her head and made very slow, deliberate, movements after that.

“I’m Teresa, and this is why you need to believe me about Savvy.” She held out a picture.

The night was way too dark, and despite the grating unease in his stomach, he dismounted his bike and walked to the streetlight. She gave him space and kept her hands visible. She didn’t want to spook him—that much was obvious.

The picture was indeed Savvy. She was running on a beach with a huge, handsome man. Toby felt like he’d been punched in the heart—first with relief, then with anger.
Savvy’s jogging on the beach with a boyfriend while I crawl the streets praying I don’t find her body?

The woman spoke as if she could read his mind. “It’s not what it looks like. She was taken against her will and stays because she must.”

“Tell me what the fuck is going on
right now
!” He spun to face this all-knowing woman in an absolute rage. She knew everything but was saying nothing.

“Get in the car, and I will.” With that, she walked to her vehicle without a backward glance.

Toby looked from the picture to the SUV and back again. The police had no leads. The picture in his hands would just confirm their suspicions that Savvy had gone of her own free will.

But maybe they could trace the man in the picture.
I could take this evidence to the news and flush the guy out with publicity.

The woman started her car. She could very well leave, and he would know nothing more.

He tucked the picture into his pocket and approached the passenger side door. He climbed in, greeted by a hot cup of coffee and a sad smile.

*~*~*~*

Savvy could always bring her brother’s face into her mind’s eye, even now— tipsy and suffocating from whatever was in Sagan’s ring. She had to try for Tobias, even though she was melting. She could see cracks in her resolve if she looked hard enough. Sagan was the source of Sara’s screaming, and he wasn’t dead yet. He should be swimming in a pool of his own blood, gasping like a fish out of water by now. Instead, he sat, twirling a bottle at his empty table. Mentally she skinned him, gutted him, and served him to Fate on a platter.