Page 65 of Savage Fire

“Let’s go home,” she echoed, her heart soaring. “By the way, I can’t live without you either. And I never want to.”

Hours later, after Tessa had tucked her mother into one of the bottom floor guest rooms. Her mother was weary, had a pounding headache, and was eager to hear all about Tessa’s life in Vegas. Lisa Ramos-Mannerly had lived the last seven years in hell, and now that her own personal Satan was dead, she had some living to do. Once she spent some time with Tessa, she planned to head back to Heavenly and connect with Sheriff Jobs. As Jacob’s onlylegalwife and beneficiary, she was now the owner of his assets, including the ranch where the fucked-up polygamist community had set down roots. It would take some doing, but her mother was determined to push them out of town, clean up the property, and deed over tracts of land to the other “wives” and Jacob’s children. After living with that man, they deserved something good. Finally.

During the hours long drive back from that horror movie cabin, her mother had wept tears of remorse, anger, relief, and joy. She’d apologized profusely about her part in tracking down then kidnapping Tessa, informing them that Jacob monitored her cell so he’d immediately known Tessa had called. Then, he’d threatened to give his ten-year-old daughter to one of his “ranch hands” if she didn’t comply. Lisa had no choice, and Tessa didn’t blame her.

Davey was still unconscious, but his blood pressure was up, and the prognosis was good, the transfusions having helped save his life. Now, he was being monitored by Dr. Liz and Ringmaster who—much to her surprise—had been a medic in the Navy.

Exhausted but still wired as hell, Tessa rejoined Fang in his bedroom.

He was seated, head cradled in his hands, on the side of his bed. The man looked shattered.

Closing and locking the door behind her, she walked to him and sat beside him, throwing her arm over his shoulders, and pulling him into her. She pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Javier, what’s going on in your head?” she asked softly, her hand squeezing his thigh. In that moment, her man needed her touch, her comfort, and she’d give it to him.

He’d saved her, and her mother. He was her hero. And she loved the shit out of him. And, God, she wanted to tell him…but something was holding her back.

Whatever it was that he needed to tell her about his past was weighing on him just as much as what happened to her. And she needed to know what it was; something inside her told her it was vital. There could be no him and her without him baring his ugliest truths. She had no doubt that his truths were gruesome.

“Talk to me,mi lobo solitario,” she implored. Her lone wolf…but he wasn’t alone anymore. For years, he’d lived the life of avarice and complacency, happy to be uncommitted physically, but still emotionally frozen. Now…she needed to know why.

Haunted, filled with anguish and guilt, his voice was the embodiment of pain and shame.

“My father…he thought that since I’d gotten such a specific education from the whores, that I would be best utilized in finding, buying, and selling women.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Tessa slapped him hard across the face. He grabbed her and held her against him, but she wrenched herself from his arms and practically fell from the bed in her hurry to get as far from him has possible.

“You were a sex trafficker? You kidnapped women and children and sold them as sex slaves?” she shrilled, her heart racing as she tried to suck air into her lungs.

He dropped his head into his hands once more, and she stared, disbelieving.

It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t have fallen in love with such a despicable man.

God, I’m going to be sick.

She couldn’t believe the man she’d gotten to know, the man who’d saved her life eleven months ago, helped nurse her back to health, had held her during her nightmares, had been such a loyal brother to the MC, had saved her and her mother tonight was a man capable of what he said he’d done.

She jumped to her feet, desperate to escape the room, to put space between her and the piece of shit on the bed, but his next words stopped her in her tracks.

“If it hadn’t been me, he would have picked someone else, and it had to be me. I had to.” It was past time to explain, but Tessa had to understand, she just had to. He couldn’t live without her. She was everything to him.

“Why?” Tessa cried, angry, heartbreaking tears streaming down her face.

“Because if it wasn’t me, I could never lookmi madrein the eye again.”

She huffed, throwing her hands in the air. “You think yourmotherwanted you to be apimpfor the Cartel?”

“No. She hated what I did, wanted nothing to do with me or anything I offered her from thedinero sucioI’d made.”

“I don’t blame her,” Tessa sneered, her tears flowing slower. Her anger was surpassing her hurt. Good. That was good. Anger he could handle; her tears shredded his heart.

“I didn’t, either. But I did what I did because Ihadto. You might call me a pimp—and I was—but I also did more for those women than any other man in the Cartel would, especially any other man myfatherwould have put in my place.”

“What? What was it you did that was so good that it made it alright to whore out innocent women against their will?”

“Don’t forget,mi fuega, I lived in a bordello for years. I was raised there, knew the ins and outs, the needs and desperations. The hopes and dreams of women stolen from the streets of their villages before they were even old enough for their first bleed. I knew, intimately, what could make those women’s lives just a bit easier, even if I couldn’t save them.”

Tessa glared at him silently, her tears completely gone now. She was frowning at him, her body tense, but the wariness in her gaze was giving way to inquiry.

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