Page 53 of Savage

I wish someone had saved me instead of letting me tumble into this life headfirst.

I listen to him, intent upon his words, like memorizing this fake speech will somehow lend me a little insight into the mysterious Doctor Savage. I know it won’t, but there’s a part of me that does want to get to know him.

Hunter’s eyes meet mine, and I shiver, clutching my arms around myself. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, but he keeps talking, moving on to look at some other spot in the room.

But I notice when his hands move to the podium to shift something—his notes, I assume at first.

Until the thing inside me starts vibrating.

I let out a startled little sound before I can help myself, and one of the men nearby gives me an odd look until I gather myself.

I fight not to hug my arms against my chest, keeping my posture straight—in vain, because the vibrations don’t cease. They don’t intensify, either, but it’s still enough to make it difficult not to squirm.

He continues to speak like he isn’t torturing me like this, and it’s all I can do to stand there and bear it.

Then I wonder why I’m bothering. The wine wasn’t enough, and Marylin had said there was someone with “something stronger” upstairs. I want it. I want it badly. I don’t have money for it, but I’ll figure something out. With any luck, the person dealing will be a rich fuck who likes sharing.

The way tonight has been going, though, I don’t think I’m going to get that lucky.

I slip through the crowd, biting my bottom lip to keep from making more noises. By the time I get to the stairs, I’m sweating a little. I cast a look back at the podium, where Hunter is still giving his speech, then hurry up the stairs to the second floor.

It doesn’t take me long to find the bathrooms there.

I wonder if Marylin meant the men’s or women’s bathroom, but I know the answer when a woman leaves the men’s, giggling to herself.

“Heey,” she says, biting her lip at me. She’s younger than I am, and I wonder who dragged her to this event. “You get tired of this stuffy event too?”

“Yeah,” I say, envying her for already being so fucked up. I tell myself to be patient; it’s only a matter of minutes until I can find some sort of relief.

It’s all I can think about, the thought of it pounding in my head and even making it possible to ignore the vibrations inside of me. All I care about is one thing, and that one thing is within reach.

Hopefully.

“Through there?” I ask, pointing to the men’s bathroom door.

She nods and licks her lips. “Yeah. Mike is really generous.” Then she adjusts her short dress, takes a stumbling step in her high heels, and giggles. “Shit. I should… I gotta get back to…” She laughs and keeps walking back toward the main hall. After a few stumbles, she does manage to right herself, and if I hadn’t just seen her, I’d never have known that she was high.

She’s had a lot of practice with this.

Like I have.

I push open the door of the bathroom, blinking in the bright lights, and I see two men in their early thirties standing there. They’re laughing about something—probably the girl who just left, just like they’ll probably laugh at me after I’ve left.

Not that I care as long as I get what I came here for.

Their gazes instantly snap to me, and one of them gives a foxlike grin. “Hey, pretty girl. What’s your name?”

It’s like the vibrator doesn’t even exist anymore. It’s just a vague annoyance that buzzes away somewhere far away.

“Stef,” I tell him. “Is one of you Mike?”

I need one of them to be Mike.

I’d only thought I’d wanted the stronger stuff when I’d headed upstairs, but now? Now, I need it.

The two look at each other and laugh again. I don’t care. The guy with the darker hair nods. “Yep. I’m Mike. What can I do for you, girl?”

The sink counter next to him has a very telling line of white dust on it.

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