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I scrunch my face up. “Family doctor? Why not call an ambulance?”
“Cops, baby. They would see the bullet holes and ask questions. We had a hard time getting it cleaned up as it was. The only good thing is we were on an isolated road and no one witnessed the accident. We got picked up and patched up as best we could.”
I shake my head, feeling extremely sad for him. If he wasn’t involved in the criminal underworld, he wouldn’t have these scars. And because of who he is, he won’t get plastic surgery to fix them, to avoid looking vain and weak. Savage is anything but weak. I wish I could help him in some way so he could be happy when he looks in the mirror. So he can see how fucking handsome he is and see what I see when I look at him.
With my head on his shoulder and tears streaming down my face, I mutter, “I’m really sorry, Savage. I’m so sorry you hurt like that. Are you still in pain?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” I wipe my eyes, sit up and straddle his waist, looking down at him.
“Is there anything I can do? Any way I can help?”
He gazes up at me, his hands on my hips. “Right now, you can kiss me.”
So I do. If that’s what he wants and what will make him feel better, I’ll kiss him every day.
When we’ve had our fill, I lay my head on his chest. Sav moves his hands down to my butt and squeezes. “I love your ass. Jesus, Abel. It’s so …” He trails off and squeezes it again. I chuckle and kiss his chest, tucking myself closer to him, if that’s possible. “I’m getting tested tomorrow. I want to feel your tight ass around my dick with nothing between us,” he says, laughing.
I laugh with him, then sit up to look at him. “There’s going to be a next time?” Oh, please let there be a next time.
“Do you want there to be a next time?” Savage asks me with a quirked eyebrow.
“Yes, please,” I squeak out, making him laugh. Yes, I definitely do. I want to feel Savage inside me again. I can think of nothing better.
Sliding off his chest, I turn on my side and Savage wraps his huge body around me and I’m content. The storm outside is over and the one in my chest has relaxed. Right now, I feel better than content. I almost feel loved.
“When are you coming home?” Cris asks me when I answer the phone. I’m not sure why he would want me to come home. It’s not like he pays me any attention when I’m there or is nice to me when hedoesnotice me.
It’s been a few days since I was with Savage and I’ve thought about it often. And Cris asking me when I’m coming home makes me smile because I have nine months left here. If nothing else, I’m a man of my word and will stay the entire year. Now, it may be for more than saving Cris’s life.
“I’ll be back next year, Cris. That’s the deal I made for your life.”
He scoffs, and I rub at my temple. I’m not sure what he expects. For me to leave after only three months? That’s only a fraction of what I agreed to. I wish I knew why he was so insistent that I come back. This isn’t the first time he tried to convince me to come back home. “You’ve spent more than enough time there. He can forget the rest. You need to come home.”
“No, Cris. If you want him to kidnap you again, then yes, I’ll be home tonight. If you value your life, you won’t keep asking me to leave before the deal is up.”
“It’s not legally binding. You don’t have to stay.”
I can’t help it—I laugh loud and long. When I collect myself, I shake my head. “You think he gives a fuck about legal? You trying to rob him wasn’t legal. You want to go to the cops and tell themwhywe have a deal that’s not legally binding?” I hear the irritated breaths he’s taking, but he’s irritated for no reason. “I’ll see if I can come visit, if you want to see me. But I’ll be coming back here until the year is up.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds and I get it. He doesn’t want to see me. He doesn’t care about me as a person—he cares about me as a possession. As long as I was at home, he could rub it in my face that he was taking care of me. He could hold over my head that he was all that I had. With me at Savage’s house, someone else is doing his job and he doesn’t like that.
He sighs into the phone, but it sounds like a frustrated sigh. He’s acting like a petulant child. Has he always been like this and I didn’t notice? “I need money.”
Honestly, I would kill for my brother to like me. “Cris, I just sent you money for the rent. What do you need money for now?”
“That’s not your fucking concern. Just get it. Three grand.”
“No, Cris. I will not. That’s double what you need for rent. And I know the rent is paid because I paid it!” I never raise my voice at my brother. I would be lying if I said I’m not a little afraid of him, but this is over the line. After last month, I got a few gigs for beta testing some software and consulted on a few developing apps and got enough to pay his rent for two months. That’s more than enough since I’m not living there right now.
I calm down a bit, taking deep breaths so I don’t yell again. “What do you need the money for? I’m not getting paid to be here, so I don’t have that amount on hand. If it’s for a bill, I can use what I have towards it.”
My phone makes those beeping noises, signaling that he hung up on me. Ugh! I flop back on my bed and put an arm over my eyes, willing the tears to go away. Why does our relationship have to be so hard? It’s not fair for him to keep bringing up how he took care of me. He still did all the illegal shit he wanted to do. By the time I was twelve, he would stay out for hours on end. I was used to getting myself up and ready for school, cooking us dinner and doing all the chores. He put a roof over my head, but I took care of the house. So, in reality, I’ve been taking care of myself all along.
I have to shake my head when I come to that conclusion. I’ve been letting him tell me since I was young that I would owe him. But he has been doing the bare minimum. I have been unsupervised for years, doing what I need to do on my own. It was me that continued to go to school when he couldn’t care less what I was doing. It was me that stayed away from his life of crime, trying to make a better life for us both. And it was me that filled out all the applications for scholarships so I could “pay him back” when I graduated.
Cris knows me, though. He knows I won’t leave him hanging without the money he asked me for. I grab my laptop from the nightstand and look for any quick gigs that will let me earn some extra cash. It won’t be three grand, that’s for sure.
When I pull up the freelance website, the first available job I see is one for Velli Corp. I read the job description, then rush out of my room, looking for Michael.
