Page 92 of Savage Revenge

Is he drunk? Or on drugs?

“What did you say to those Savage fuckers while you were sleeping in Cash’s bed? He threw you out, huh?” His lips curl into a smirk as he trails his gaze down my body. “Doesn’t surprise me. You’re not wife material, but I was looking forward to playing with you for a while. A little less talking and fewer pastries, and you’d be just about perfect.”

I swallow tightly, trying to ignore his words, but they cut deeper than they should, and a small gasp escapes my throat.

Elliott laughs and tilts his head to the side. “It doesn’t matter. Your dad is dead, and now you two will join him. And CK Gaming is all mine, which happens to include Kingston Casinos.

The tips of my fingers and toes go ice cold. What? What did he just say?

Jacob coughs, drawing my attention to him as he gasps for breath.

“He’s dying!” I scream as I lunge to put pressure on the wound. Warm, thick liquid seeps through my fingers, and I meet Jacob’s gaze, his eyes sparkling with pain and the knowledge that he’s not going to make it.

Tears drip down my face as I shake my head. “Just hang on. We’ll get help.”

Even as I say it, the life drains from my brother’s eyes right before me. As I fall back on my butt to look up at Elliott pointing his gun at me, I let out a sob.

“Cash is going to slaughter you,” I scream.

Elliott charges for me, and I brace myself. He’s bigger than I am. With his free hand, he grabs my ponytail and yanks, dragging me across the shiny floor. My scalp burns, and my neck is screaming in pain, but I fight, kicking and punching as hard as I can. It does nothing to slow him down as he pulls me toward the hallway to my bedroom.

“Cash is going to find you dead in your bed with my come all over you.” He sounds like a demon, and the evilness of his threat brings tears to my eyes as I thrash wildly, shouting for help the entire time.

He’s halfway to the hall when a deafening gunshot rings through the air, right before Caleb comes thundering in, his gun pointed at Elliott, who collapses with a shrill scream, clutching at his leg.

Caleb tackles Eliott and throws his gun to the side with ease, quickly twisting him into a pretzel and restraining him while he continues to cry out.

“You okay?” Caleb asks as he looks up at me, then over at my lifeless brother. “Jordyn, look at me. Are you okay? Nod or shake your head if you have to.”

I shake my head and fall back onto the cold tile, gasping for air, choking out sob after sob as I rest my head against the side of my couch. “Where’s Daddy? Where is he?”

“He’s coming, Jordyn. He’ll be here soon. Can you find me something to tie him up with? A shoelace, anything.”

Without answering, I climb to my feet and stagger through my apartment. I grab a couple of tennis shoes, unlacing them as I rush back to Caleb. Everything is blurry as I go through the motions, not registering what I’m doing as I hand them over. Then I take slow, unsteady steps toward Jacob.

When I’m only a few feet away, I stop and stare at him for a long moment before my knees give out and I drop to the floor, unable to hold it together anymore. My body is wracked with sobs while I mourn the brother I didn’t really know. Jacob was innocent in this. Jack was innocent. Myfatherwas innocent. All of this for power?

Caleb doesn’t interrupt me as I cry uncontrollably, but he walks over and stands by my side, putting one finger on my shoulder. Reminding me he’s here if I need him.

God, I was such a bitch to him.

And he just saved my life.

I don’t knowhow much time has passed.

Everything around me is fuzzy as my tears fall like a waterfall. I lost my brother. And I love a man whom I shouldn’t have fallen for, but I did.

Caleb talks on the phone the entire time he’s beside me. I don’t hear him, though. Not past the ringing in my ears.

Slowly, a warm hand slides down my back and another one under my knees before I’m lifted. His scent is the only thing I need before I curl into him.

Daddy.

I need his strength because, right now, I have none.

“I’ve got you, kitten.” He moves through my apartment, passing several people who I don’t know before he closes us into the privacy of my bedroom.

Instead of putting me down, Cash sits on the tan armchair, settling me in his lap. I sniffle and try to hide my face from him. I’m sure I look hideous. I don’t even want to imagine how blotchy my skin is or how red my nose is. And what kind of person worries about those things when their brother was just killed by a psycho?

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