Page 59 of Savage

Chapter Eighteen

River

The club was loud, crazy, and people were in great party spirit. The VIP section was jam-packed with people that were part of my team. It was a celebratory night, and every night after every successful arena show that was lined up for weeks to come.

My right knuckles were bandaged up, but the need to punch something hadn’t dissipated. I was the complete depiction of catastrophe—disheveled hair, tear-stained shirt, a murderous expression that was directed to everyone except for the woman who had caused it.

Cara stuck to my side like damn glue. I wasn’t sure if she was terrified I’d leave her, or she was making sure I wasn’t going to get into trouble. Whatever it was, she remained by my side, making it known that she wasn’t intimidated by my mercurial attitude.

People noticed her. Of course they did. Cara had grown into a bold, confident woman who commanded unwanted attention with the way she gazed at people. She had those penetrative eyes, the ones that warned you she’d suck your soul dry if you gave her the chance. At the same time, she had a beguiling look, a temptress that promised a night of passion. Anyone with a dick got hard just by looking at her. What straight man wouldn’t?

Like tonight, she was all dolled up, looking like an elegant, sexy angel. Normally, I’d get territorial, but I felt no such thing. I was a blank space, devoid of any emotion, devoid of life.

Angel…

I snorted at the thought. Cara wasn’t an angel any longer. She had transformed into something I didn’t want to be a part of—a vain, selfish, self-serving slut that most Hollywood actresses were known for.

What made me think she was going to be different? It was a blatant warning when she had entered the scene. However, I had been too fucked up, too caught up possessing her again that I didn’t even pause tothinkthat she would eventually serve me the same cold, remorseless dish like I had before, once upon a time.

The society I revolved in was already full of bullshit; I didn’t need that same venal energy in my personal life.

The anger I felt over an hour ago had pitted deeply into my system. It sought a dark side of me, fed on it, raged within me like a caged animal needing to be freed. It churned into something ferocious, and I could feel the hate begin to take a life of its own.

I drank myself to stupor, trying my damnedest to block all the bad shit that was taking hold of my mind.

Cara tried to act like a doting girlfriend, but I couldn’t speak to her. I guessed I was too tempted to lash out and ask her how she liked being a total shameless slut? Instead, I kept my mouth shut, for both our sakes.

That Spanish bastard was probably getting a kick out of this whole thing. And if rumors got out thatmygirlfriend was cheating on me with him, the guy would skyrocket to fame. Sleazebags always used that method to get themselves more publicity. The more scandalous the story, the better the exposure. Cara was an easy target. And she fucking fell right into it. Hook, line, and finger.

Though my senses registered each move she made, each long drawn sigh, each time she fidgeted, and every single time she glanced at me with that cute frowning face of hers, I detected them all. Not once did I reach out or pretend that I was enjoying her company, though. It would’ve suited us better had she gone back to the hotel, but she had been adamant on accompanying me. Arguing with her would’ve meant I spoke to her, and I’d rather not. The words that were at the tip of my tongue were too callous, even for her. Again, for both our sakes, my silence was golden.

Ari had warned me to stay drama-free and be out of relationships for the next year or so, but I didn’t care. I wanted Cara like I needed air to survive. No woman fired my blood the way she could. She alone could drive me mental and send me to heaven in a heartbeat. She was my weakness and my strength, and the mere thought of losing her again made me want to burn something, commit murder, overdose on something strong—anything destructive to satisfy this monster taking hold of me, I’d be grateful for.

“You okay, fool? Who pissed you off?” Phoenix sat across the table, squinting at me while he held a vodka and a cigarette. “You look like you ‘bout to kill someone.” He eyed me like one of those speculators at a boxing match, waiting for a good fight. “Who tha’ fucker at? Lemme light his ass up.”

When Phoenix started talking mad slang, it was a sign that the man was buzzing—buzzing really good.

I nonchalantly twirled the contents in my glass. The ice clinked with each twirl before I shook my head and took the shot. I welcomed the burn. It relieved the tumultuous violence in my chest, a balm I needed—anything to numb the pitting ache.

“It’s one of those nights, man … just one of those damn nights,” I muttered, not meeting his inquisitive eyes as I poured another serving of vodka.

Before Phoenix got the chance to interrogate me further, someone strode into our VIP area, blocking my view. Hot pink stilettos and a Barbie pink top. I didn’t need to glance up to match the face.

“Stassy.”

“River …” Ari’s niece, Stassy, cooed before bending over and giving me a tight boob hug. “You’re the best. Loved the whole thing, babe.” She pouted her injected lips before kissing my cheek then sashayed away.

Stassy’s hugs were the kind that made me feel a little molested. The woman never failed to rub her tits on me. Look, I was a titty man, but that was just plain rude. The things women did to get a man’s attention these days were just too sad. If the man desired a woman, he’d move heaven and earth to acquire her. There was no gray in that. Excuses would only prolong misery. Cut the losses and move the fuck on.

Tipping my head back as the smooth liquid glided down my throat, my eyes travelled to Stassy, at the table next to us, and when she caught me looking at her, she winked.

Stassy was going to be messy. I wasn’t sure why Ari arranged for her to be a part of this production. I mean, did she do anything productive other than party with us? She was great and all, sweet even, but what the fuck was she following us around for? If Ari planted her as his spy, I wouldn’t be surprised. If he intended for her to be my plaything,againI wouldn’t be surprised. Ari Braun covered all his bases. Most especially his biggest client. He catered to my whims, known and unknown.

“If she stuck to you for a second longer, I’d have punched her throat!” Cara hissed, fuming by my side.

She was getting jealous? Good. At least she’d get a little taste of her disgusting medicine. Her hand rested against the side of my thigh, as if she wanted some sort of connection but was too terrified to take action.

Phoenix, tired of the ongoing drama blatantly unfolding before him, stood up and downed the rest of his drink. “Aiight, I’m gonna go spin some good shit.” He grinned at me before he chucked a bottle of vodka my way, which I caught in one swift grab. “And for fuck’s sake, smile, fucker! You have so much to celebrate tonight.”

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