Page 108 of Savage

Fuck. Fuck, I need to calm down, but I keep replaying Stef’s despairing look as she walks toward the front door.

“No, you dick, you tell them that your girlfriend got kidnapped. This has got to be the blackmailer, right?” Chase suddenly frowns. “Wait. Here. He looks up for a second, and… I recognize him.”

Drake glances down at the still frame. “Yep, that’s the idiot who tried to blackmail you. My IT guy sent me pictures a few hours ago. His name’s, um…” He gets his phone out, tapping on the screen. “Sorry, man. I was in a meeting when I got this, and I hadn’t had time to look at it too closely. Okay. He says his name is Dylan Castor. He’s a real piece of shit. He’s been arrested on suspicion of several crimes, but he keeps weaseling out of the charges. No evidence, etc.”

Chase laughs. “Fuck, really? Because I got another report from the PI this morning. This is Stef’s ex-boyfriend. She was living with him for a while. I was going to forward that info to you tonight.”

Stef’s ex.

“I’m going to kill him,” I say flatly. “When I find him, there isn’t going to be a single bone in his body that’s still where it should be.”

Drake gives me a long, measuring look. “Is she worth going to jail over?” he asks carefully, though there’s so much in that question that I want to punch him for its implications. “She’s more than just your property?” It sounds like a question, but I can tell he sees the truth.

“Nobody’s going to jail,” Chase says. He hands my phone back to me. “I know several extremely good criminal defense attorneys.”

Right as I take the phone, it buzzes with a new message. I stare at the notification in disbelief.

It’s from the blackmailer—from Dylan.

I got ur girl

She tastes so good

Shoulda paid me the first time

U want her back, i want double now.

Drake whistles. “He’s got some balls, I’ll give him that.” He flashes me a dark grin. “Too bad I bet my guy is better than him. Forward that to him.” He gives me his IT contact’s email then makes a quick call, barking out the order to trace it now before hanging up. When he’s done, he looks at me. “You sure she didn’t want to go with him?”

“She was on a fucking leash, and he’s pointing a gun at her,” I bark at him. “Do you honestly fucking think she’d want to go with that little pissant, to live in fucking misery, when she has me?”

Drake and Chase exchange a look, and Drake says carefully, “She’s a drug addict and a whore, man. She—”

Whatever he sees in my eyes has him stopping, lifting his hands palms out in surrender.

“All right. I was just—”

Chase elbows him, hard, and Drake stops talking altogether.

“Right, we’ll find her,” Chase says. He pulls his own phone out and scrolls through something. “The report said that Dylan was squatting in an abandoned house on the other side of the city. Do you want to start there, or wait for Drake’s contact?”

The thought of sitting around and doing nothing is unbearable. I’m already on the verge of destroying a wall or Drake’s face.

“Fine. One second.” I go back to the bedroom, ignoring the mess, and open the safe. There isn’t much inside—my passport, some cash, a few important documents…

…And my handgun.

I load it and head back to the living room.

Chase’s eyes widen when he sees the gun. “Please tell me it’s not registered to you. Do not murder somebody with a gun registered under your name.”

“We might need a gun if that shithead tries to pull his on us,” Drake points out. “But yeah, this is a fucking stupid idea, Hunter.”

The only stupid idea was not keeping Stef locked up and safe. If she’d still been in her bedroom, behind lock and key, Dylan wouldn’t have been able to reach her. She wouldn’t have been out here, vulnerable, easily stolen from me.

“I don’t fucking care. You can stay here if you want, but I’m going to destroy that shithead.” I stalk toward the front door, not caring if they follow.

“Fuck. I don’t want to perjure myself,” Chase mutters. “But okay, I’ll come along to help. Don’t start by shooting, okay? We can’t spin it as self-defense if you shoot first.”

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