Page 25 of Savage Rule

“Fine,” I give her my fakest smile. “But you’ll still owe me,” I say, and lift my hips so she can see my still raging hard-on.”

“Like I said, raincheck. See ya, Dimples.” She turns on her heel and walks onto the balcony. But before she disappears into the darkness like the villain she is, she says over her shoulder, “I’m leaving tonight. I suggest you do the same if you don’t want to wear out your welcome with Marcone.”

And just like that, she’s gone.

It takes me an hour to free myself. Although I was willing to break my bones to do it, all I had to sacrifice was the flesh on my left hand. Once that was out of the rope, I managed to untie the ropes that bound my other wrist and feet. However, that wasn’t the first thing I did.

I rub the bandages covering my bleeding raw skin and smile. Fucking psycho. The moment I had my hand free, I rubbed one out. And I’m not a leftie, but horny as I was, it didn’t matter. All I needed was to close my eyes and picture her face.

It was only after I found some semblance of release, that I took the time to undo the other knots tying me to the bed.

She told me she’d be leaving, but that doesn’t stop me from searching for her. I wait for her in the same spot on Bourbon Street where I’d seen her earlier. The crowds die down as drunks flee to their rooms and eventually the music dies down too.

When she never shows, I scour the Quarter, scanning every alley I pass for signs of a villainous blonde. I even go back to that dilapidated house we fought in.

Nothing.

As soon as I return to my room, I dial Luca. I tell him about the unfortunate incident that left me all tied up for hours, but left out the things she did. That’s my own little secret.

When he questions why she left me alive, I say, “I don’t know,” also leaving out that I let her live when I had the chance. “Something must have stopped her.” A big thank you to my dick for that. “If she’s still in New Orleans, she’s holed up. I searched all night.”

“She’s gone,” Luca says.

“How are you so sure?” I narrow my eyes suspiciously.

“The bodies of both Sergio Ramos and Jorge Ruiz have just been found. They had pennies over their eyes. Now we know why she was there.”

“Shit.” I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the ropes still dangling from the footboard. “When?”

“Half an hour ago.”

“News travels fast.”

“Enzo Marcone sent me a message. He wasn’t aware they were in New Orleans, so that’s pissed him off.”

Scarlet’s parting words come back to me,I suggest you do the same if you don’t want to wear out your welcome with Marcone,and they suddenly make sense.

“I thought he didn’t want to be involved,” I say to Luca.

“He doesn’t. What he wants is us out of his city.”

“We’ve worn out our welcome.”

“Exactly.” He lets out a breath. “The last thing I want is to bring war to his territory. Not when I’d like a contract with him in the future.”

“Agreed. I’ll get on the first flight back.” I hang up and stick the phone in my jeans pocket. But it takes me a moment to get up, my gaze affixed on the rope.

A chill crawls up my spine as I reach for it and let it slip through my hand. Did Scarlet come straight from the murder scene? If she did, her adrenaline would have still been high, still pumping through her veins making her even more volatile. Killing me would not have only been easy, but if I know anything about the way shit is run in our world, she was ordered to.

That means I came much closer to being gutted myself than I realized.

Yet, she didn’t. The question is, why? Because getting her kicks on my tied-up ass wouldn’t have been enough.

She’s crazy, that’s why. She’s crazy and she’s driving me to madness too. A demented obsession where all I can think about is killing her, kissing her, fucking her and back to killing.

I can’t live like this.

Standing, I collect all of my belongings and shove them in my leather bag. I’m going back to New York, then I’m going to find that hellcat and finish this once and for all.

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