Page 8 of Savage Desires

"I hate this. I hate them so much," she says fervently.

"Good. Use that hate to stay alive. Continue to make yourself useful. Become invaluable when it comes to the others. Show Madame how much easier things are for her when you're around to take care of them."

"What about you?" she whispers.

"It seems my fate has already been sealed. One of us needs to survive this place. I want you to survive. If you ever get the opportunity to escape… take it. Run and never look back. Don't try to save the others. Just go. Disappear."

"But—"

"No," I say, cutting her off. "In this world, it's everyone for themselves. The others wouldn't hesitate to leave you behind. Don't die because you want to save everyone. And don't go to the authorities. It's not safe. They are corrupt. The only way is to disappear."

I can see her internal struggle at the thought of not helping the other women. I'm not wrong; she knows it, but abandoning them goes against her caring nature.

“Promise me, Georgie. Promise me you'll save yourself."

"I promise," she whispers.

I nod, holding her tighter. "Good."

CHAPTER THREE

KISTEN

It's been five days since the night I stopped Todd Fucking Mallory from whipping my Beauty. It didn't take much to find out who the fucker was. For as lax as the security at Mecca is, their digital security is locked up tighter than the Pope's ass. It's too bad for them that one of my many talents is hacking into systems. One look at their financials told me things are not what they seem at Mecca.

Hera was right. I'm interested… very interested.

They are obviously laundering money through the club—poorly, I might add. On the surface, everything looks fine, but with a little digging, it's easy to get a picture of what's happening. They are running a prostitution ring right out of the club. I give them a gold star for attempting to write it off like the girls are regular employees. There are even paycheck records and what look like personnel files for each girl. It would all look on the up and up, except those paychecks are all automatically deposited in the same offshore account.

Based on how afraid Beauty looked with the woman she called Madame and how desperate she was to get away from me, I would say she's not there of her own free will. Which is a massive problem for me. I don't care if a woman chooses to become a prostitute. That's their prerogative. I do care when people force innocents into the life. I abhor sex trafficking and have made it my life's mission to destroy as many operations as I can.

After two hours of waiting, I hear the lock disengage and the steady beeping of the alarm panel. I smirk when I hear him shut and lock the door before resetting the alarm. It amuses me that he thinks a little security system and lock will keep him safe. Considering who his daddy is, I'm guessing he doesn't think anyone would have the balls to come after him.

That's where he's wrong. I give zero fucks that his daddy is a hotshot attorney. Kevin Mallory might be able to get his son out of legal trouble and push rape allegations and DUIs under the rug, but there's nothing he can do to make me disappear. No, I'm the justice for the women he's hurt over the years and the young boy he killed while driving drunk. Consider me his judge, jury, and executioner. He would've paid for hurting Beauty, but a little digging into his past sealed his fate.

He won't be walking away with a simple punishment. I was going to stop at breaking every bone in his hands for hurting her. Now? Now, I will start with his hands and not stop until he's begging for a mercy that I won't give him. Todd Mallory will die today. Slowly and painfully. He's going to become a missing person that only his daddy will miss.

Heavy footsteps head in my direction, and then he flicks the light on, illuminating the room I've been waiting in. The idiot is staring at his phone, not a care in the world. He hasn't noticed Death sitting in his living room, twirling his favorite knife in his hand… waiting.

Todd picks up the remote and turns the TV on to some sports channel. He goes and gets a beer from the fridge; the whole time, he barely looks up from his phone. Idiot. He finally looks up and sees me when he reenters the living room.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He sounds angry. Brave even. Except I can see the way his hands tremble and the way his pulse is racing in his very sliceable neck. He's scared, and I love it.

"Do you remember me, Todd?" I ask with a disconcerting smile.

He swallows thickly and nods.

"Good. I like that you didn't forget me. I'm a memorable kind of guy, and it hurts my feelings when people forget me." I stand from the chair and step towards him. "Do you know why I'm here?"

He shakes his head. "Look, man, I don't want any trouble."

I laugh darkly. "Sometimes we just don't get what we want."

"What do you want?" he asks, swallowing thickly.

"We're going to have a nice little conversation."

"What do you want to know?"

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