Page 36 of Savage Sin

I know it as a fact without needing to hear his answer.

He pushes to his feet. “Yes. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure he suffers for it. Do you understand me?”

The weight pressing on my chest intensifies. I can do nothing but watch as Rage leaves me to my thoughts without a backward glance.

Nine

Rage

Ican’t stand to face her judgment or the sorrow in her voice, so I pin my eyes forward and don’t look back when I leave her to think about all I’ve shared. She needs to know what I am capable of. The levels of my immorality. I can pretend I’m some do-gooder and wear the Savage cut, but I know the truth of who I am. And now so does she.

The drugs and the Euphoria baggie she showed up with are another strand in this massive web of crime I’ve been in the middle of since birth. There’s only one family with the Euphoria recipe and that’s my Savage brother’s family. Ares is the president of our crew and the reason I’m still alive today. His twisted brothers would love to see me and everyone involved with the Savages dead.

But that’s not what has my guts in knots. The fact Persephone mumbled Silas Antonov’s name in her sleep has my chest locked with dread. He’s Ares’ younger brother and the greediest one of them all, which makes him the deadliest. He’ll do anything to make sure he’s the most powerful of the Bratva. I’ve had my suspicions about him being on our side of the world cooking up his family recipe in my backyard since Riot killed Kirill Antonov a few weeks back. It is then Euphoria started showing up in a big way in New York City.

My brother mentioned something big going down with the Colombian drug lords, but I didn’t pay too much mind to his work. I didn’t tie them and the Russian mob together until I received his head in a box with the single word written in Russian:Traitor.

My brother was no traitor. He was the only good thing I ever touched that didn’t turn rotten to the core. He made me want to do better and watching him climb the ranks inside law enforcement made me think I could be a better person, too.

I step up to the door and listen to her soft cries.

But good isn’t in my nature. Not in the way it was in my brother’s.

At least I’m not a cold-blooded killer anymore. Case in point, Persephone Castel is still alive, as she pointed out. My younger strung out self would have tortured what I needed from her and be done with the games. Maybe I have changed. I’m not good, but I’m not evil either. I’m in this sort of gray area and I don’t know how I feel about that.

I’m not exactly sure when the change happened. The day my brother earned his badge, maybe? Does it matter? It doesn’t change the fact I have the source of information I need in my bed and I haven’t done shit to pull the details I’m after from her. She makes me want to dig deeper and peel back all those juicy layers until I get to the heart of the woman.

I started out life as a trained killer before I lost my virginity. And now this stranger makes me want to talk out my feelings. And that is just fucked up.

I move through the cabin and head to the security room.

I hit the sleep key on a keyboard and a multi-thousand-dollar security system springs to life. Infrared images feed onto multiple screens docked on the wall in front of me. There’s not a nook or cranny that doesn’t have a camera angled at it. Remote cameras dotting the property past the tree line show there are no lurkers.

It truly is just me and the Colombian drug princess.

Satisfied all is calm, I turn back to her room, but stay in the shadows just outside her door. She’s asleep now, but fifteen minutes ago I could have taken her and she would have given herself to me.

One second she’s soft and pliant and in the next, the rough exterior of her upbringing shows. She might be a princess, but in no way was she ever daddy’s little girl. And now her step-father has taken over, a detail he had to have worked really hard to keep under wraps.

A tiny whimper has me almost entering the room.

She’s dreaming, I realize, and pause. She looks so young. And alone. I know the feeling. I’m excellent at reading people, but I’ll be the first to say this one has me scratching my head. One thing is for certain, though. I would bet my bike that every man that has entered her life has tortured or abused her. That alone has me wanting to slay her dragons. I meant every word that I said. When I get my hands on her step-father, I’ll kill him for the both of us.

Christ.

I need to focus.

I thought I was after Castel, but one drug lord does not differ from another.

I scrape a hand down my face and pull out a cigarette. I don’t light it, opting to let the roll of tobacco hang from my lips. I need to know who I am killing and why. Castel is—was, I correct myself—a deadly motherfucker who took whatever he wanted. I didn’t hear about him until about five years back when my brother wanted to take him down. Being a Drug Enforcement Agent wasn’t my brother’s first pick as a dream job, but he said seeing me suffer with my addiction drove him into wearing the DEA badge. I didn’t lie to Persephone.

Honorable move while I turned into a criminal. He didn’t hold my lifestyle against me. But I do. Wanting to help me is what got him killed.

Persi moves in her sleep, tugging on the ties. I’m tempted to put some slack in them, but she’s proven that is a bad idea. I love the spirit in her. The way she fights to protect whoever she doesn’t want me to know about is commendable. Stupid, but commendable. I don’t believe for a second it’s her step-father, and she’s not saying. Yet. I know the soft touch approach will eventually break her. It will just take some time and I have as long as it takes.

My backup phone vibrates and I pull it out of my back pocket. I tossed my main phone overboard the night I took Persephone. Ares is resourceful and he would have tracked me down within an hour had I kept it.

To keep from waking my resilient prisoner, I move to the kitchen.

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