UnWreck Me (Savage Beast MC Book 7) Read online

  Touching the page three, I decide to completely bypass the first couple of rental pages. I know that a single woman, who will probably not have a man in her life anytime soon, should not be staying at most of those places alone.

  I find a couple places that are around the middle of the road price range, sending a message to the realtors so that I can schedule to see them as soon as possible. I’m not paying another month’s rent on this place, not if I can help it.

  Pulling up my email, I find my accountant’s name and send him a message requesting him to call me in the morning about my finances. I’m not going to sit on this and waste any time. I’m moving on and I’m doing it as soon as possible.

  I want nothing that’s attached to Layne anymore, not the apartment he found for me or any of the clothes he supplied me with. My next step is to sell all of the designer and one-of-a-kind pieces he bought for me.

  Not many people know, but I wasn’t just an escort who worked for Layne, I was more than that. I was trusted, I was given access to his personal information that other girls never could have imagined having. It all came at a price as well, because when Layne wanted me, he had me, no questions asked.

  I was Layne’s personal whore.

  HAWK

  Shifting the truck into park, I climb down from the seat, I feel like shit. Not just a little bit, but I feel like a fucking asshole for walking away from yet another woman. This is what I do though, this is who I am.

  I am the man who never stays, who convinces himself that these women, Trista and Avah, they’re better off without me. I don’t lump Savanna in with them, because not only was she a screaming bitch, she had a little too much crazy inside of her to be right in the head.

  Dragon starts to rush toward us, not just walking, but fucking jogging, and my heart jumps into my throat at what that can mean.

  “Dragon?” I ask as I rush toward him.

  My legs begin to move without me even giving them the signal. Something ain’t right, I can feel it down in my gut. Mountain and Dutch stay frozen behind me, still perched on their bikes, fucking goddamn frozen like ice, no doubt feeling that gut-wrenching sensation the same way that I am.

  “Mountain, Hawk, need to talk to you,” Dragon calls out as he stops in front of me. His gaze flicks over to Dutch. “You too.”

  None of us speak right away, the men behind me don’t move, either. Dragon takes a step back and starts to walk inside the clubhouse, my feet staying planted this time.

  Whatever he needs to say, he’s going to have to say it right fucking here, because I can’t walk into that clubhouse to hear whatever it is, if I need to get on my bike or back in that truck, I’m not wasting a fucking second running across the gravel parking lot to get to my vehicle.

  “We ain’t goin’ nowhere. Tell us right fucking now,” I growl.

  Dragon curses, looking down at his boots before he lifts his gaze up to meet our own. “It’s Trista and Leighton,” he murmurs.

  Mountain becomes unstuck and charges after Dragon. He grabs ahold of him and wrenches him forward, their noses almost touching.

  “Where the fuck were they, when they were taken?” Mountain shouts.

  Dragon’s eyes shift to the side, then come back to meet Mountain’s from over my shoulder. “Your house.”

  Mountain pushes Dragon backward, then turns and starts hissing to himself, no doubt losing his mind second by second. I’m not there, at least not yet. I need more information.

  “Who?” I rasp. “Who took my daughter?”

  Dragon shrugs his shoulder, a move that makes me want to cut his fucking throat instantly. “We don’t know. We have no fucking clue. There’s been zero communication and Worm can’t find anything, either.”

  I take a step forward, my eyes wide as I shake my head. “Where is my daughter?” I demand. “Where is my fucking daughter?”

  Dragon doesn’t have any answers. He doesn’t have anything. I feel worthless, yet again. I walked away from her to deal with club shit, to deal with Avah.

  I could try to rationalize that I was just trying to save little girls, but that would be a lie. That truck is full to the brim with product, so nothing is ever done selflessly, especially by me.

  “Jaguar is on the phone,” Taz announces from behind Dragon.

  We all freeze, even Dutch. He knows what happened with Jaguar, everyone knows what happened with Jaguar, it’s no big secret he is on our shit list and we’re looking for him so that we can deal with him our own way, the Beast way.

  “Fuck,” Dutch hisses. “Jaguar?” Speaking for the first time.

  There’s a moment of silence as the phone call with Jaguar is dealt with, but when Dragon ends the call, his gaze finds mine and he jerks his chin.

  “They were taken to the Donkey Punchers. I don’t know why, but Jaguar is with them. He saw them, he got them out.”

  “Where the fuck are they?” Mountain demands on a hiss.

  Dragon looks directly at Mountain, his gaze focused on his and nowhere else. “He doesn’t know. All he could do was help them escape the clubhouse. Says he has a reason he needs to stay, but that he wants to make shit right. They’re up in NorCal in the woods. He said he can’t go out and look for them, that he’s doing something there, something he can’t tell me about yet.”

  “Fuck him. I see him and I’m ending him,” Mountain growls. “I’ll put the bullet through his head myself.”

  I don’t blame him, I feel the same way, except, I know what kind of man Jaguar is. He’s not going to ruin his entire brotherhood, his oath, for pussy. He may fuck up a little in the heat of the moment, but he’s not going to completely ruin everything, he has a plan.

  “Mountain,” Taz shouts. “He didn’t take them. He didn’t have to help them and he sure as fuck didn’t have to call us to not only tell us where they are, but where he is too. Trista is my Old Lady and she’s gone too, you ain’t the only one whose woman is missing.”

  Mountain takes a step toward Dragon, I watch as he lifts his hand, extends his finger, and points it directly into the center of Dragon’s chest. I wince at the imagined sensation of having a man’s finger pointed at my chest. Many men have had their digits broken over that shit.

  “You didn’t call me. If something happens to her that I could have prevented, you didn’t fucking call me,” Mountain growls.

  “It wouldn’t matter, we didn’t know where she was.”

  “You don’t get to make that call,” Mountain grinds out.

  Dragon leans forward, his lip curled in a snarl. “I’m the fucking president, so yeah, I do.”

  I decide it’s time for me to step into this conversation. “No, Dragon. You don’t. You’ve overstepped, again. I get you toe the line and usually shit works out fine when you do. This is different, that wasn’t your call to make. Mountain deserved to know his woman was missing and I sure as fuck deserved to know my daughter was.”

  “She ain’t branded. And Trista’s man knew she was gone. I am well within the fucking scope of my duties and requirements as president of the Savage Beasts,” Dragon snorts.

  My blood is boiling inside of me, I’m on the edge and my fingers twitch to reach for the closest object that I can find so that I can beat the shit out of my president. I don’t do that though, I have bigger goddamn fish to fry than Dragon and his bullshit.

  I have to find my fucking daughter.

  Chapter Three

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  AVAH

  I smile at the customer as I slide over the documents for him to sign. He gives me a leering look, his gaze flicking to my tits before he brings it back up to my eyes, as if I didn’t see him. I don’t wipe the smile off of my face though.

  Customer service fucking sucks ass.

  However, it’s the only job that I’m qualified for, plus it’s the only job I’ve ever been trained for. Layne may have trained me to spread my legs for my customers and this isn’t exactly that, but I know how to turn on the charm, sell some shit wit
h a smile even if I find the customer repulsive.

  I’m good at this though. Sales, smiling, pretending—being fake. I’m phenomenal at being fake, head to toe, inside and out.

  The customer signs the documents and I continue to go over all of them with him before I hand him the keys to his brand-new Corvette. He leans over the desk, his coffee breath washing over my face.

  “You want to take a spin? Be the first passenger?” he asks.

  They always ask this, always. Keeping my award-winning smile firmly in place, I tilt my head to the side and used my syrupy sweet fake voice to answer him. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not allowed to do that. I hope that you enjoy your new car, it’s a beautiful machine.”

  He stands, mumbling something to himself then grunts before he leaves my office and walks straight out of the glass doors and toward the bright red Vette. Tipping my chin down, I begin to finish the computer work to go along with this sale before I slip my copy of the documents into a file.

  My doorway dims with a shadow. Lifting my head, I look up to meet the eyes of the same man who darkens my doorway every fucking day.

  “Graham,” I say, trying not to sigh in annoyance, but it’s really hard because he’s really fucking annoying.

  He’s asked me out every single day since I started here six weeks ago. He is relentless and he doesn’t understand that it’s never going to happen. Never. Going. To. Happen.

  “Another one? Must be nice to make sales left and right,” he grumbles.

  Not only does he keep asking me out, he’s also starting to become angry that I’m selling more cars than he is, which in turn means I’m making more money than he is with my commissions. He’s getting very combative with me, all the while attempting to get in my panties. He’s the typical angry male, although I like assholes, he’s nothing like Hawk.

  “Just doing my job, Graham,” I announce as I dip my chin and pretend to do more paperwork.

  Thankfully, a few moments later he turns and stomps out of the room. I don’t bother watching him, knowing exactly what an oversized man who is throwing a tantrum looks like. I could live my whole life and never see a man-baby tantrum ever again.

  I work until nine in the evening, selling one more car. This one doesn’t give me a huge commission, it’s a used minivan that I sell to a single mother. In fact, I decide not to take a commission at all. She’s worn and terrified, afraid that she’s not going to be able to afford even its low price.

  This woman is a hard worker with mouths to feed. She deserves a hand up and that’s exactly what I aim to give her. Instead of charging her even low Blue Book, I decide to pay for half of the van myself, without telling her.

  Leaving the office, her worn smile taking up her entire face and making her look ten years younger, I feel good—really good as I head home.

  My small, but clean, and safe apartment awaits me. Pulling my BMW into its marked spot, I let out a sigh and turn the engine off. I don’t know what is going to happen in the future, it’s been two months, but I still think about Hawk every single day and I hate myself for it because I highly doubt that he’s thinking of me at all.

  Climbing out of the car, I gather my purse and take my keys out as I walk up to the main door of the building. I’m not surprised that the door has been propped open, it seems as though it’s this way morning, noon, and night.

  Kicking the piece of wood that’s keeping the door ajar to the side, I smile to myself as I hear it click closed behind me. I don’t bother taking the elevator, knowing just how slow it is. I’m tired and want to be home before the sun rises.

  A man in jeans and a T-shirt passes me, he smiles in my direction and offers a hello. I give him a small smile, and wave. I recognize him as the man who lives across from me. Though we haven’t said more than a few words to one another, I do catch his lingering gaze as I pass him every so often.

  “Evenin’ babe,” he murmurs, his deep voice washing over me like smooth honey.

  He’s handsome and if I wasn’t such a complete disaster, I would totally be all about him. He lives across the hall, he’s nice to look at, and he always greets me with a smile.

  “Hey,” I say softly.

  “You doing anything tonight?”

  He asks me this sometimes. I don’t know if he realizes that I do nothing in the evenings except watch television and crash, my mind so busy wandering as I think about Hawk, Trista, and my sad excuse of an existence.

  “No,” I admit on a chuckle.

  “You ever want to change that, you let me know, yeah?”

  Nodding my head, I turn from him and continue to make my way upstairs.

  When I finally climb to my floor, I open the door and turn down my hallway, only to freeze at the sight in front of me. There are dozens of roses in vases all around my doorway. My heart starts to race at the sight.

  Other women may think that dozens of roses are sexy. I do not. It’s not because I don’t like roses, I do. They’re pretty and sometimes they even smell really great.

  However, I have no man in my life to bring me flowers, and when you’ve been an escort in the past, there’s a sense of dread that seems to always follow you around. Especially since I no longer have security available to me, in any capacity.

  Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I look around the hallway, checking to see if anyone is watching me, but I’m alone and I don’t sense anyone’s eyes on me from anywhere. I think about just stepping over the flowers and ignoring them, but decide against it.

  Unlocking the door, I quickly slide the vases just inside of the door before I slip inside and quickly lock the door behind me. Crouching down in front of the roses, I search through them looking for a card.

  I find a card, one in every single bouquet and my heart slams against my chest with each beat. Sinking down to my ass, I pull the cards out of the tiny envelopes and place them all out in front of me.

  I MISS YOU

  YOUR ASS IS ALL I THINK ABOUT

  I HAVE FINALLY FOUND YOU

  YOU WILL BE MINE

  I WILL OWN YOU

  WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT

  I AM WATCHING YOU

  DID YOU THINK I WAS GONE?

  I’M COMING FOR YOU AVAH

  YOU’LL WEAR MY BRUISES FOR LIFE

  NOBODY WILL EVEN KNOW YOU’RE GONE

  YOUR TIME IS UP

  I’m sure the cards are not in any kind of order, but that doesn’t make them any less menacing. I know exactly who it must be.

  The senator.

  He’s coming for me.

  I knew he liked having me. I knew he liked abusing me and whoever else entered his bedroom chamber. I knew he loved it when he attempted to blackmail me for anal, though in the end, I still got paid. This is a man who craves power and control, who gets off on it.

  But I didn’t think that he was truly capable of kidnapping and holding me as a slave. I thought it was just a little kink that he liked to pay for every now and then to get his rocks off. And as an escort, I was used to this, all of the time. I was there to fulfill a fantasy, something that they couldn’t or wouldn’t ask a girlfriend, lover, or wife for and I was fine with that.

  However, I’m starting to wonder if the senator was part of Layne’s dirty list and maybe he didn’t have him on his computer or on paper. Then I wonder how many of these men were in handshake agreements for girls, for sex slaves.

  The way these notes are written, I have a feeling that the senator is not new to any of this, and frankly, that is terrifying. Especially after finding all those documents that Layne had, all those things that he did, all those men that he sold girls to.

  Gripping my phone in my hand, I think about calling the one person that I know could and would help me, but my fingers won’t move.

  They’re frozen.

  I stay exactly in the same spot, unable to move a muscle, the term frozen in fear becoming very clear to me, as the sun rises and a new day begins all around me.

  HAWK

  Trista
wraps her arms around Taz’s side, curling close to his body and I can’t help but watch them. Almost lost her to those fucking Donkey Punchers, almost lost my little girl. I can’t let anything happen to her, not ever again.

  “You know she’s okay, yeah?” Dragon asks from beside me.

  I’m still pissed the fuck off at him, but I can’t hold a grudge, not when it comes to him. I’ve known the fucker for far too long and even when I don’t always like his decisions, I know that they always come from a good place.

  “I’m ready to start a war. I want the Punchers gone.”

  He nods his head with a grunt. “Yeah, brother. I do too, but we can’t go running in there without a plan.”

  Pressing my lips together, I can’t help but think that Dragon has Jaguar as a part of the plan, whatever this plan is. If I gave more of a shit, I would probably ask.

  “Tell Jag hi when you talk to him again,” I grunt before I walk away from him.

  Pinkie isn’t entertaining anyone else tonight, so I make my way toward her. She tilts her head back when I walk up beside her, a smile playing on her lips. Arching a brow, I jerk my chin toward the hallway where my bedroom is located.

  She doesn’t say a word, simply slides off of the barstool and smooths her microscopic skirt down with her hands. Turning my back to her, I head toward the hallway and my bedroom. I know she’s following behind me, not only can I sense her, but I can hear her high heels click as she shuffles quickly at my heels.