Page 54 of Savior
“Lucinda is a fine piece of ass, too.” He adds, before he glances over his shoulder in Vanna’s direction again. He takes his time eye fucking her in front of me, his tongue slowly dragging across his thick lower lip.
I bet that fuckin’ lip bleeds like a stuck pig…
He turns back to me. “You’ve got a taste for fine bitches. I’ll give you that much. I wouldn’t mind a taste of what she’s got going on, myself.”
I keep my gaze steady, a straight face. I don’t let him get a read on me, even though my blood is boiling now. “You’ll give me back my woman, is what you’ll give me.”
He lets out a clipped chortle. “Maybe you ought to pay a toll of some sort?” his tone suggestive. “Pay us a return fee.” I already know what he’s got in mind, and another pang of rage laced adrenaline surges through my body. He called me a cuck for a reason. And that shit ain’t going down. Not with Vanna. Nobody is going to touch her. Fuckin’ ever. I don’t lower my eyes from his as I glare at him.
“What do they call you?”
We both know damn well I could look down at his cut and read his road name for myself. I want him to know that I’m dead fucking serious about what I’m about to say to him, and so I don’t break eye contact. Not even for a second.
“Reaper.” He replies.
“Well, Reaper. I’m going to level with you.” I say, adjusting the bowie knife at my side. I thread my fingers together and extend my arms to crack my knuckles, then throw my head to either side, cracking and loosening my tense neck.
I never shift my eyes from his as I let my arms drop back to my sides, ready to grab the blade and the Glock tucked in my back. Seventeen rounds... Fourteen men... And they’re all probably packing, as well.
“She’s leaving with me. Or she’s leaving without me. But she is fucking leaving. And I mean right now.”
“How do you figure that?” Reaper sounds mildly amused.
“Since I’ve walked through that door, I’ve already run through fourteen scenarios where I kill as many of you as possible, before someone manages to take me out. And in every one of those scenarios, I’m afraid that you, Reaper, are the first man down. So, unless you want me to show you what crazyfucking looks like… And that be the last fucking thing you ever see… I suggest you let me get my girl… I didn’t come here for a fight. I came here for Vanna.” I say, taking a slow step closer to him. “And I ain’t. No. Fucking. Cuck.”
Reaper stares at me now, as if he’s stunned to silence by my words. He finally does speak after a moment. “Damn. That’s the fucking guy I heard about.” He says, nodding slowly as he seems to look me over again with a brand new impression. “Fucking Mean Dean the Machine.”
“That was my father… And he was a nice guy by comparison to what I’m prepared to do here tonight.” I warn him.
Reaper folds his thick, tattooed arms across his chest, eyeing me for a moment, before he cocks his head over his shoulder towards the booth Vanna is in with the two other Demons. He curls his lip, tongue pressed to the back of his teeth as he lets out a sharp whistle, grabbing their immediate attention. With just a look, the Demons get up from the table, muttering things I can’t hear at Vanna, before they walk away from her to occupy themselves with other women. I’m glad they’re no longer surrounding her, but the tension doesn’t leave my body. It won’t leave. Not until she’s safe again. And as long as she’s here, she isn’t safe.
“Alright, Keegan. Go get your lady.” Reaper says.
I know that he, and every other Demon in here, is watching me. I have to retain my level of control, fight the urge to snatch her and drag her out of here. Even though there’s nothing I want to do more than that. Approaching her with a quietude I don’t feel at all, I come to stand before her. She looks up at me timidly. She knows she fucked up. I can read it all over her paling face.
“Let’s go. Now.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounds grave.
She slides wordlessly out of the booth towards me. Now on her feet, I grab her arm and escort her back towards the door I came through. This could have gone very differently. Yanking the door open, I shove Vanna through it first, then slam it behind me. Once outside I snatch her by the arm again and haul her towards her car, past Daniel and the prospect standing guard. She has to jog to keep up with my strides, her boots clacking on the pavement.
Vanna’s fumbling with something in her purse. The lights flash on her car. At least she has sense enough to get her car unlocked. I rip the driver’s side door open when we reach the car and swing her around to get inside it. She slides into the driver’s seat quickly and I bend down to get directly in her face. Her eyes look wide and worried. She fucking should be!
“You drive this cage straight the fuck home.” I say to her. “No fucking pit stops. No fucking detours. Straight. The. Fuck. Home, Vanna.” She stares at me like a little frightened doe in headlights, nodding her head slowly. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Making sure she’s inside the car all the way before I slam her door shut, I storm back towards my bike, texting Viking that we’re leaving, now and whole. He responds right away, letting me know that he, Axel, Viper and Diesel are heading back to town as well. Apparently, my brothers were never far, having followed me and waited somewhere close by. Mounting my bike, I fire it up and crab walk it backwards to get in position and take off after Vanna.
The entire way back to town, I’m staring into her rearview. She’s checking her mirror frequently, looking at me through nervous eyes. I’m sure she’s hoping the ride back home is calming me down. But it isn’t. I’m fucking livid. Fucking Vanna! Putting herself in danger like that. No telling what could have happened tonight. They didn’t want to let her go…
Fuck! Iwant to hit something! Someone! Repeatedly!
Thirty minutes later, I pull in the end of my driveway behind Vanna and follow her up the hill, until she comes to a stop in front of the detached garage. I park my bike behind her. I’ll open the garage and bring the bike in later. Right now, I just need to get my fucking hands on her.
Dismounting the bike, I leave the keys in it and approach her car door. She hasn’t made any move to exit the car on her own. I grab the handle to do it for her, but it’s locked. She’s looking up at me nervously. I close my eyes and count to ten in my mind. It doesn’t help either.
“Get out of the car, Vanna.” I demand, though trying to speak softly.
“You look really mad, though.” Her voice is quiet, even for being behind a locked car door.
I suck in the night air through my nostrils and exhale slowly. “Baby, if you think I can’t get this door open in thirty fucking seconds flat…”
