Page 17 of Savage Hero

Nyx struggles when I sling an arm around her waist and drag her to her feet, but when I stoop to pick up the baby, she stops resisting. I hold out the pink bundle to her, and she takes it with shaking hands. Her lips are glossy, her face pale, and she keeps her eyes lowered as I guide her out of the elevator.

My dick aches and my insides are still twisted in pain, but I force myself to walk how I always do. Long strides, a fast pace. It tears me up inside, but I’m no stranger to pain. No stranger to making myself do things I don’t want to.

There are some things about me no one will ever know, ever be able to understand. But one thing I make known far and wide: I’m CaesarEl SalvajeDomingo, and I’m not bound by right and wrong. I’m bound by honor, held by duty. Respect for my family, for the cartel, runs deep.

It must—it’s all I have left.

Chapter Nine

Nyx

I’m still shivering when Savage slams closed the door of the walk-in closet behind me. Then there’s the sound of something—I’m guess furniture—being dragged in front of the door. Guess this prison won’t be as easy to escape as the last one.

I set Princess down and go through her diaper bag looking for a bottle. Thankfully there’s one left. It’s not warm enough, so I sit down on a black velvet bench and shove it between my legs as I take up the little pink bundle and start entertaining the baby girl inside with my best goofy faces.

I used to love playing with Athena and Phoebe, my two younger sisters. But they’ve outgrown everything except boys and clothes. They should be out of school already, back at the motel,hopefullydoing their homework.

My heart sinks when I remember Savage has my phone. I’d have loved to hear their voices one more time. I know I’m never leaving this place, but would it have killed the universe to allow me a little closure?

Then again, maybe it’s trying to keep some karmic balance. I had all the closure I needed with Mom.

I squeeze my eyes shut, viciously shaking my head when moisture beads my lashes.

Idiot. Gotta keep your head in the game, Nyx. You let up for even a second, your opponent’s gonna get the upper hand. Which means you’ll never get that uppercut.

My boxing coach had been talking about bouts in the ring, of course, not Caesar Domingo.

Savage.

I grit my teeth, and Princess starts crying.

“Ah, crap.”

I take the bottle out from between my legs and prop Princess up in one arm so I can feed her with the other. I’m not sure if it’s warm enough, but it’d be a miracle if Princess was still alive in twenty-four hours anyway.

Nothing like a shitty last meal, right? The baby doesn’t seem to care—she closes her eyes and suck on that rubber teat like it’s her mother’s nipple.

I rock her a little as I let my gaze roam.

This is obviously Savage’s closet. A few suits, but mostly leather jackets and dark jeans. Some boots and sneakers. The middle cabinet where I assume a shit ton of jewelry would normally go is empty but for two pairs of diamond cufflinks under the glass.

And a ring-box.

A pink, velvet ring box.

Utterly intrigued, I shift Princess to a better grip and go over to the display case. It’s unlocked and opens easy enough. I have to juggle the baby a bit to keep the lid open, but I manage to snag the ring box and hurry back to the bench to sit down.

It opens reluctantly, like its hinges have rusted.

My shoulders slump.

It’s empty.

“Damn it, Princess.” I rock the baby again—she’s halfway done with her bottle, the greedy little cow. “Why do I feel like I’m trying to find my way in the dark here?”

I read the articles. I studied the grainy photos. But Savage Domingo is giving his online persona a run for its money.

Well, right until he almost forced me to give him a blowjob. That was the most thug-life thing he’s done since I’ve met him.

---