Savage Love (Savage Trilogy #3) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,1
need to take down Gabriel and ensure no part of Tag’s operation survives his death. Shoving the knife back into my belt, and standing up, I take her with me to our feet.
“Let’s go,” I murmur, catching her hand but when I would set us in motion, she tugs against me.
“What about him?” she asks, motioning toward what is left of Wes.
“Clean-up support is not on us. We’re leaving.” I start to move.
She tugs harder this time. “What about DNA and cameras and—”
“Baby, trust me,” I say and despite the light it paints me in, I add, “I’ll handle it. I know how to handle these things.”
“Right. Of course.” Her voice is strained, the shadows thick, and I don’t even try to read her reaction right now. Right now, I need to focus on her safety and our future, nothing else. I start walking again and this time she double steps, eager to keep up, while I dig my keys out of my pocket, clicking the clicker to unlock the black Porsche I’d rented.
When I’d arrived in San Antonio, I’d wanted to impress her. I’d also wanted its speed and agility that I hope like hell we don’t need tonight. Once we’re both sealed safely inside, I start the engine and dial Adam. “Wes attacked Candace at the cemetery.”
“I assume he didn’t know your reputation and is now dead?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation. “What clean-up do you need?”
“I’ll have Tag clean up his own mess. Just watch your back.” I disconnect and pull the Porsche onto the highway while hitting the callback to the number Tag called me from. He answers with, “I take it you’re the last man standing?”
“He held a blade to my woman’s neck. Clean up your mess before I turn you into a pile of skin and bones and enjoy it far more than a normal human being should enjoy such things. So much so I’ll take my time and enjoy your screams. He’s at the cemetery, by my mother’s grave.” I disconnect and glance over at Candace, who’s staring ahead, her fingers gripping the seat, her spine stiff. “You sure you’re okay?”
Of course, she’s not okay. She just had a blade to her neck, watched me kill Wes, and now heard me tell Tag what I fantasize about doing to him.
“I’m alive,” she says. “I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of fabulous considering all that’s happened.”
My jaw clenches with anger over that blade and how easily it ended up at her throat. She grabs my hands. “Don’t go down the blame rabbit hole, Rick,” she orders, “or the ‘save me by leaving me’ rabbit hole, either. You’re not leaving me. We just had this conversation before all of this happened.”
“You’re right, baby,” I say, hating how easily she believes I’ll leave again, and I have no one to blame but me. “We’re past that kind of doubt. I’m not leaving you. I’m not even thinking about leaving you. What I am going to do is kill Tag and every motherfucking bastard who works for him. There will be no mercy. Not after me seeing that blade at your throat.”
CHAPTER TWO
Savage
I pull the Porsche to the door of Hotel Emma, where several doormen await, and quickly scan my face for blood. I’m out of the car on the driver’s side before either of them can get to me. Further inspection of my arms, hands, and clothes, tell me that I killed that dipwad without wearing a drop of his blood. If Candace didn’t know how efficient a killer I am, or how well-trained I am at killing and getting away with it, she does now. I’ve told her that I’m not the surgeon she was once going to marry. The problem is that being told such a thing, and saying you understand it, versus having the truth shoved in your face, is like comparing peanut butter and jelly. They aren’t the same. And like peanut butter and jelly, Candace and I are not the same, but we are underrated as a team. I underrated us as a team. I just hope like hell she didn’t overrate us in her mind. Because I love the fuck out of this woman.
By the time a doorman is helping Candace out of the car, I’m by her side. I have my arm around her when I palm my keys and some cash to a guy who looks about twelve, and can’t take his eyes off the car. “Don’t wreck