Page 113 of Savage

More than once, even if his intention wasn’t to save me the first time. If I’d stayed at Ntimacy, though, I’d be nothing more than a fucked-out whore. Giulio probably would’ve gotten rid of me, and I—

Hunter sighs and pulls me closer, his lips brushing against my forehead. “Stef.”

Trembling, I cling to him. “Master,” I whisper. “You saved me. Again.”

His eyes flutter open. Those impossibly blue eyes gaze directly into mine, and it feels like he can see right through me.

Maybe he can.

“Of course I saved you,” Hunter says slowly. “You’re mine. Nobody else gets to have you, or hurt you, or—” He stops and turns away from me. “Fuck. When I saw what he’d done to you. I really wanted to kill him.”

I bite my bottom lip, unsure of what to say to that. When did he start seeing me as more than just a disposable slave? He’d been so willing to return me to Giulio at first, but somewhere along the way…

He must’ve started to care.

“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t,” I reply. I want to cuddle close to him again, but I’m afraid I’m going to crowd him.

“It shouldn’t have come to this.” Hunter covers his eyes with his arm. “I should have dealt with him faster. And don’t worry, I’ve already talked with the building’s security because it’s unacceptable that somebody like him managed to get inside the building at all.”

“How did he get in?” I ask, tentatively reaching out to touch his arm. “I mean…” I shudder, thinking about how easy it had seemed to be for Dylan to break inside.

“He pretended to have a delivery—and the porter on duty was apparently an idiot who just let him through.” Hunter sits up, and the sheet falls down to his waist, revealing his bare chest. “They’re changing the locks on the condo too. And… fuck, I need to get a new couch. And a new mattress.”

I wince. “He got through the lock so fast,” I whisper. “And I… I’m sorry about the c-couch.” I can’t help but stammer, looking at him pleadingly, hoping he won’t blame me for the damage. “He had a gun. And I didn’t—”

“I’m glad it was ketchup and not your blood,” Hunter interrupts. “I didn’t… I can’t ever see your blood like that again, Stef.” He pulls me into his lap and kisses the top of my head. “Furniture can be replaced. You can’t.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I kiss him—slow and deep, steadily turning more urgent as his hand slides to the back of my head and he pulls me closer.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I don’t… Not many people have really cared what happens to me before.” I bite my bottom lip. Alicia had. Alicia had cared more than my own parents did.

I don’t think about them often. It still hurts, knowing how easily they gave up on me.

I don’t think about Alicia often, either, but that’s for different reasons entirely. I don’t know where I would’ve ended up if she’d survived that car accident, but it probably wouldn’t have been here. I’d have finished high school, gone to college, and found some job that I probably would’ve hated.

Is this really so much worse?

“Other people are idiots,” Hunter says with his usual sternness. It makes me smile to hear him turn that voice on other people.

We sit quietly for a moment, our arms wrapped around each other. I can’t believe how much comfort his steady warmth is giving me, when just a few months ago I hated him.

A few months ago, I’d hated myself, too, hadn’t I.

“I was an idiot,” I say softly. Hunter doesn’t respond, and I don’t know if I should laugh that he isn’t immediately disagreeing with me. I’m glad he isn’t interrupting, at least. “Before… everything. Going out with Dylan was a mistake. Taking the drugs was a mistake. Dropping out of high school was a mistake.” I bury my head in his shoulder. “I didn’t even realize how far back my mistakes went. But today, when he had that gun aimed at me… I don’t want to die with my life having been nothing but a mistake.”

“You aren’t a mistake,” Hunter says, his voice pained. “If this is because of what I said—”

I shake my head quickly. “No,” I say, realizing that’s the truth as I say the word. “Master…” I sigh, blinking back the inevitable tide of tears. “My parents were disappointed in me, too. They’re the ones who threw me out. They didn’t try to make things better. They gave up on me almost immediately.”

His arms around me tighten. “You’re never seeing them again. Ever.”

I swallow thickly. “I don’t want to see them. They probably think I’m dead anyway. After… After Alicia died…” I hesitate, but the tears start to come anyway. “She was my best friend, had been for a long time. She introduced me to Dylan before she knew he was a… druggie. Before I became one.”

I’m so thankful that Hunter stays quiet, only gently stroking my back to give me comfort. I don’t know what I would do if he gave me false platitudes, the way everybody else had back then.

“Alicia and Dylan used to get along,” I say with a broken laugh. “Then she got into a bad car accident. From one day to the next, she was gone. And I didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. Dylan offered me some of his stash, and for a few blissful hours, I wasn’t sad.” I bite my bottom lip. “But it always came back. The pain, the grief, the knowledge that I’d never talk to her again.”

I nearly choke on a sob.

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