Sin & Savage (20 page)

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Authors: Anna Mara

BOOK: Sin & Savage
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And to think that she was saying she was in love with him too? Well—it made him feel like the luckiest asshole on the planet!

But before they could start a life together, there was still…
business
…to attend to. He needed to find out about the aftermath of the botched gun deal; he needed to meet up with Snake and deal with the 100G’s in cash he still had on him; and he needed to find Joe Sorelli and Nana so that he could finally complete his mission.

Savage blew out a breath of frustration as his mind computed his next logical step.

Chapter 42

Holding a pair
of scissors, Tori stood by the bed and watched him as he downed his third bottle of beer. She threw him a stern look. “Ready now?”

“Not yet.” Suddenly, he burped, the alcohol having hit the spot. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

Tori sat down on the mattress beside him. Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, she gingerly began cutting the garment from the bottom up, exposing his chest.

“Once we cut this thing off you, we’re going to have to find something else for you to wear,” she mused absentmindedly, as her eyes remained on the task at hand.

“Don’t sweat it, Snow White. I’ve got a couple of clean, white t-shirts in the saddlebags. In my line of work, you never know when you’re going to get splattered with blood.” He laughed, as he tipped the bottle back and took another long sip of beer.

Her eyes flew up to his and narrowed, blazing with censure at being reminded once more of what he was truly involved in.

Savage laughed again. “Wow, if looks could kill, there’d be no need to patch me up because I’d be deader than a door right about now.”

Tori lowered her disapproving eyes back to what she was doing. When she had cut halfway up, she used both hands to tear the rest of it, the thin material easily shredding in her hands. She made sure that none of it was stuck to the gash and with his help, was finally able to free him of the shirt. With his bare chest fully exposed, Savage leaned back against the pillows, grimacing slightly.

Tori could see that caking blood covered the wound itself and all along the left side of his abdomen, but she wouldn’t be able to tell how bad it was until she cleaned the entire area up. But she could see that it had stopped bleeding and had begun to coagulate on its own. That was a good sign, at least.

Her eyes travelled up his bare chest and suddenly settled on the large cross tattoo. Droplets of blood had been drawn beside the tattoo, with the words Paid In Full emblazoned there also. Shock flew through her at seeing the image, knowing full well what it meant. It referred to Jesus paying for the sins of humanity with his shed blood on the cross. But he wasn’t a Christian, so what was he doing with that inked on his chest? It didn’t make sense.

Her curious eyes flew next to the nasty-looking, seven-inch jagged scar situated beside the cross, on the right side of his torso. It was pink and rough-looking, attesting to its seriousness. Immediately, she knew that whatever had happened to give him that wound had been a life and death moment for him.

She blinked hard as she realized that she’d been rudely staring at it for a few seconds too long. Her gaze quickly rose back up to meet his and she saw that his dark eyes were intently staring back at her with a far-away look of their own.

“Iraq,” he announced in a deadpan monotone.

The shock of the word hit Tori full force. “What? You were there?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I was a real red, white and blue Marine, full of Mom’s apple pie. Can you believe it? Me?” He laughed, his words thick with irony. “Maybe there’s hope for my sinning soul yet, right, Snow White?”

Tori instinctively knew that this was something he rarely talked about and sensed that he was trying to gauge her reaction to what he’d just told her. Had he really been a good guy once? Had he gone to war?

“There’s hope for everyone, Matt.” She covered her surprise with busyness, opening the first aid box on the nightstand.

“Is there?” His eyes narrowed with doubt, as he studied her bent head. “You wouldn’t think that if you’d been over there.”

Her eyes flew back up to his cold face, and she noticed how he was staring at her with a haunted, wounded look.

“What happened…for you to get this,” she asked softly, as she gently touched his scar with her index finger.

His eyes went flat, devoid of all emotion. “It was dawn, and we were in the Humvee, heading back to camp. We got hit with an IED. It exploded and our vehicle was launched up into the air, flipping over like a toy. There was fire everywhere. The others didn’t make it.”

“Oh my God! But you were okay…” Her voice faded to nothingness.

“I was thrown out and got hit with shrapnel. I was pretty banged up. The docs told me if I’d gotten hit a micro-inch closer to where my cross tattoo was, I would have died on the spot.”

Tori felt a slam to her gut, as she realized at how close he’d come to dying. “But you didn’t…” she mumbled, still too shocked to form a coherent sentence together.

Savage threw her a half laugh. “No, I didn’t, Snow White. Assholes like me are a lot tougher to kill.”

“But—you weren’t an asshole, not if you were fighting for your country…”

“The thing is, my beautiful Tori, that when something like that happens to you…afterwards, you either go the right way or the wrong way in life.”

“And you went the wrong way.”

The judgmental words had flown out of her mouth before she’d realized what she was saying, but he’d heard her—super loud and crystal clear. His serious gaze locked into her, his eyes watchful and probing, like he wanted to say more; but then his lips suddenly curled into a teasing grin and he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I went the wrong way,” he laughed.

Tori tore her eyes away from his penetrating stare, to reach for a pair of sterile latex gloves from the first aid kit.
I wish you had gone the right way, Matthew Monroe,
she wanted to shout at him,
because I see so much good in you!
But now wasn’t the time to say something like that.

Slipping on the gloves, Tori fished out a large piece of gauze and, refocusing on the task at hand, began soaking it with rubbing alcohol. “This is going to sting a bit.”

“Hence the beer.” He grabbed another bottle and after twisting it open, chugged a large gulp of the liquid. “Okay, ready.”

Gently, Tori placed the cloth against the wound.

“Motherfuck!” he bellowed, before gulping down another long chug of the beer.

Tori swabbed the blood off of the wound and surrounding area. As she continued her ministrations, her curious eyes kept darting up to his face, watching him as he gritted his teeth.

“Why
do
you have that cross tattoo on your chest?” she asked, hoping that getting him to talk about something else would take his mind off of his agony.

“My mother…” His hand flew to his brow to wipe the beads of sweat pooling there. “She’s a good woman who believes in Jesus—kinda like you, actually—and she told me that if I was insisting on being a stubborn, hard-headed idiot wanting to join the marines like that, well then I needed the good Lord’s protection on me at all times whether I believed in him or not, so she made me get the tattoo.”

Tori laughed. “Stubborn, hard-headed, and an idiot? Wise woman! I think I like your mother already.”

“You’d get along great. But of the two of you, you’re far more dangerous.”

“Why do you say that?” she quizzed distractedly, as she finished binding his gash with gauze. Luckily, she had deduced that the cut looked like a flesh wound only and they might be all right with not going to the hospital. As she removed her gloves, a silent prayer of thanks formed in heart that it hadn’t been worse.

Suddenly, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. His gaze burned her with raw intensity. “Because in your eyes, I see the man I could be and that defeats the man I am,” he vowed, his voice low and passionate.

He leaned in and captured her mouth in a kiss that made her head spin. He pulled away slightly, his lips barely touching hers. “Tell me again that you love me. I want to hear it over and over and over again—and then maybe I can finally believe that someone like you can love an asshole like me.”

Tenderness shot through Tori. “You can doubt everything you see, hear, smell, touch, and taste in this world, but never doubt my love for you. I love you, Matt, and I intend on saying it over and over and over again until you do believe me, make no mistake about that.”

To make sure he understood how deeply she felt, Tori wrapped her hands around his neck and brushed her soft lips back and forth over his. She heard him groan then and she sensed him deepen the pressure. His hands encircled her back, bringing her closer; and as their souls fused together, a toe-curling, mind-numbing bolt of fire surged through her. Responding with a low moan of her own, Tori threaded her fingers through his hair, losing herself to the moist heat his lips were generating against hers.

He grunted then tore his mouth off of hers. “Shit!” he swore softly, as his eyes glazed over with pain, his hand instantly shooting to his wounded side. “Sorry, Snow White, but I think I’m out of commission for the night.” He laughed bitterly, his eyes filled with apology.

Coming to her senses, Tori gasped, as she released her hold on him. “I’m so sorry, Matt. I didn’t realize… I mean—I did, but I forgot.” She bit her lip with worry. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Savage took in her look of distress and his mouth curved into a wry smile. “Not as much as you not loving me would.”

“That’s not going to happen and it’s about time you start believing me.”

“Keep telling me that, gorgeous, because I never get tired of hearing it.”

She smiled. “How about I fix us something to eat? I know it’s pretty late but I don’t think either of us has eaten anything since lunchtime.”

“I think I just drank my supper,” he laughed, referring to the beers he’d just had.

“Doesn’t count, mister! You need good, solid food so you can heal. I’ll check the kitchen and see what I can rustle up.” Tori gave him a quick peck on his lips before getting up from the bed and disappearing out the door.

Chapter 43

Tori sat on
the edge of the bed in the other bedroom and checked her cell phone, hoping beyond hope that Nana had called. But no—there was nothing, no missed calls at all. She dialed Nana’s cell number but the call just rang and rang and rang.

A knot of fear twisted in her gut. Where was Nana, for God’s sake? Was she all right? Was she in trouble? Where had she gone? Oh please, God, let her be all right.

After leaving Matt in the other room, she’d gone to the kitchen and discovered eggs, milk, and bacon in the well-stocked refrigerator, along with a stick of French bread in the pantry. Everything appeared edible and fresh, what Joe Sorelli had probably been subsisting on before he’d decided to abscond with her Nana. But she couldn’t lay the entire blame on him for her disappearance because she knew the older lady had gone willingly. Another shiver of panic went through her. Where was she, for God’s sake?

Tori rubbed her sore eyes as exhaustion overtook her. She was so so tired right now, what with everything that had happened today and all the places she’d been and all the tension she’d faced. It felt like every bone and muscle in her body throbbed with fatigue. All she wanted was a few minutes of peace—just a few minutes,
please.

She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. She’d just rest for a little bit—maybe five minutes—and then she’d get up and cook Matt some eggs…

* * *

“Tori?” Savage gingerly walked into the empty kitchen. He frowned when he didn’t see her there. Where was she? He’d waited for her to come back and when she hadn’t, he’d gotten up and gone looking for her. Bare-chested and wearing only his jeans, he’d padded barefoot into the kitchen to see what she was up to.

If truth be told, he was already feeling better now that he’d realized that the injury was only a flesh wound. In fact, with a good night’s sleep and some food in him, he’d be feeling much better by tomorrow and he’d be well enough to ride again.

His eyes took in the clean look of the kitchen. Obviously, she hadn’t started cooking anything yet. Where was she?

Walking back out, he crossed the living room and went to the other bedroom. And that’s where he found her. She was curled up on the double bed, in a fetal position, fully clothed, clutching her cell phone to her chest—and fast asleep.

A sweet smile played on his lips. She looked so damned beautiful. He still couldn’t believe that someone like her could love someone like him. He only hoped things wouldn’t look different to her when the bright sunshine hit her tomorrow morning. Would she change her mind? Would she decide that she wouldn’t want to be involved with a bastard like him after all?

Who could blame her if she did? Certainly, not him! He knew he wasn’t good enough for her; he was no fool. But he needed her—desperately—like water to a dying man in the hot, Nevada desert. Her love was his salvation, out of the hell his life had become—and he’d do anything for it—
anything!

His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he reflected over all of the things they’d been through. In fact, Miss Snow White had had one helluva day and done things that she’d probably never experienced before in her life. She was one tough, Texas cookie, he had to admit.

He himself was used to all of these types of shitty, life-threatening situations happening all the time; after all, it came with the job. But her? The schoolteacher and preacher’s daughter? Hell no! This world was alien to her, but she’d shown bravery and courage and street smarts and strength. She was a real trooper and he was proud of her. He loved her actually, no doubt about that.

Spotting an extra blanket on top of a chair in the corner, he padded into the bedroom and placed it over her body, careful not to wake her.

Bending down, he lightly brushed his lips on her temple. “Sleep well, my sweet Snow White,” he whispered, before moving out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Walking back into the other bedroom, he slipped on his socks and boots; and then treading softly, walked back across the living room and out the front door. As soon as the fresh, night air hit him outside, he inhaled a deep, cleansing breath of it. Man, it felt good to be alive!

Carefully, he climbed down the porch steps, making sure not to twist his mid-section in any odd way because that would hurt like hell. But he was a big boy and he could take it, he grinned to himself. After all, he was one tough son-of-a-bitch. He’d been through much worse in his life.

Walking across the driveway, he went towards the black duffle bag on the ground where Tori had dumped it. Picking it up, he smiled to himself. At least he still had Snake’s money! That ought to garner him some brownie points with the bossman, considering the fiasco the gun deal had turned into.

From the bike, he retrieved his jacket that he’d dumped over the seat. Reaching into the garment’s inside pocket, he fished out his cell phone and turned it on. Thirteen missed calls! Shit! Guess it was time to get back to work. Savage scrolled through the messages, trying to decide who to call back first.

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