Heart of a Savage Read online

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Author Page

  This is a work of fiction. Names characters places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locations, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Lashanta Charles

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may by reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express permission in writing from the author. Permission can be obtained by contacting the author at [email protected].

  Cover Design: Deranged Doctor Designs

  Editing: Shewanda Pugh & Adrienne Horn

  Layout & Design: Cassy Roop @ Pink In Designs

  For Josiah,

  With you . . . I am confident. I am compelling. I am capable.

  I love you.

  TODAY I SAW THE movie Suicide Squad. Awesome fucking movie. Seriously, I’d give it two thumbs up. The only questionable thing to come out of it was the character that I fell in love with. I guess it says a lot about me as a person since I connected the most and fell in love with Jared Leto. Psychotic, deranged, Jared Leto as The Joker. I should probably be a lot more concerned with this, but with my track record I figure it’s better to just go with it. I’m already damaged goods. And I don’t mean that because of the finally healed split lip or the slowly fading bruises along the right side of my torso. Fucking Connor. I mean some seriously internal shit - like mentally crumbled in my mind. But back to Jared Leto or The Joker—I want one. His entire world was Harley Quinn and as distressing as his behavior was, man do I want that. I want someone who wants me for me and not just what I can give them. Someone who cherishes me, respects me, and needs me on a primal soul-changing level. But I guess my wants are right up there with unicorns, fairy dust and people who shit bricks of gold, pure fantasy.

  Speaking of fantasy, I hit publish on the chapter I just finished writing so it’s uploaded to my blog. I don’t have a monumental following, but my readers love my blog “Bailey’s Buttons” and I get overwhelmed with comments every time I post a new chapter. I’ve been told I should make them into full-length novels, but I think that requires a confidence and diligence I don’t have. For now, I’ll stick to happily reviewing the books I read and posting new chapters according to the day of the week. Today is Friday, so Freaky Friday means sexy hotness. Just before I can start on the review for the book I just read, I hear tiny footsteps padding quickly my way. I close out the computer and hide beneath my desk just before the door bursts open. Slower footsteps move across the room and I bite back a giggle because I know he knows I’m in here somewhere.

  “Mommy, where are you?” he whispers.

  I wonder why he’s whispering as I slowly peek out from under the desk. My breath catches in my throat and I bang the side of my head. I jump back when I notice his reason for whispering. Connor is standing next to the desk staring down at me. I didn’t even know he was back home yet.

  “There you are, Mommy. I knew you were hiding from me, but Daddy found you first,” Kaelen exclaims as he rushes to where I’m struggling to get up from the floor without touching Connor. He watches with an unreadable expression, but doesn’t move to allow me room to maneuver. “Daddy said you and I could bake him a treat for dessert tonight! Can we do something with walnuts again, Mommy? I really liked the one we did last time, so this time it’s going to be a lot better,” he rambles on, completely oblivious to the tension thickening the air. I didn’t expect Connor to be home tonight. Him being here means something is wrong and if something is wrong I’ll likely suffer for it.

  I scoop him up and his arms automatically circle my neck, his head resting on my shoulder.

  “What were you doing down here?” Connor asks. He reaches out and brushes his thumb across the barely visible split on my lower lip. Observing his handiwork?

  “Nothing really, just writing a little.”

  “I thought we agreed you would save that for the weekends?”

  We didn’t agree on anything. He suggested it and expected me to blindly follow. I search his eyes for any hint of the anger that always seems to be there lately. When I don’t find it, I release a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I only posted a chapter I wrote before. It took only a few minutes and it’s Friday night, so technically the weekend.” I try to keep my voice light and airy, but I’m not sure if I succeed. After taking a few steps away from him, I turn and head for the door. “Let’s head to the kitchen, munchkin. Maybe we can scrounge up some more walnuts for Daddy, though I think you used them all.”

  I’m two steps away from freedom when Connor’s arm wraps around us both from behind. I freeze, bracing for whatever comes next. He kisses Kaelen’s forehead, then drops his hand to my hip.

  “Go tell seanmhair goodnight before she leaves, Kael.”

  Connor frowns when Kael yells grandma in English instead of the Scottish version like he used. I listen as Teagan calls back to him, letting him know where she is. I used to think it was adorable when Connor would mix English along with Scottish words. Somehow, I think he does it now in an effort to irritate me.

  “You were supposed to be at the shareholders meeting today,” he says.

  Shit. How could I have forgotten that was today? I try to slip from his grasp, but his other hand drops to my free hip and both hands tighten. “I took your mom and Kael shopping. I thought I set a reminder in my phone for the meeting. Did the date change?”

  “Where’s the receipt?”

  Sweat beads on my upper lip and my hands grip the front pockets of my jeans as I fight the urge to push him away. “I don’t . . . I don’t have it.”

  His hands tighten even more before he turns me to face me. I open my mouth to speak, but all I get out is a whimper as I’m slammed against the wall next to the door.

  “I didn’t go over $300, I swear! I used the card I always carry; you can check it, Connor.” My voice cracks as it comes out and I hate it. I hate that I’m not strong enough to stand up to him. I hate that I allow him to treat me this way.

  “I didn’t tell you it was okay to take her shopping. If you’d called to get permission like you were supposed to, I could have told you to be at the meeting instead of out spending money that you shouldn’t be.”

  It’s my money. In an effort to keep from emasculating him and to follow the instructions left by my father in his will I let Connor control it. That was a mistake.

  “I didn’t . . . think it would be a big deal, especially since it’s your mom and our son. And even with the meeting, that’s more your area than mine. I mean, you know so much more about the firms than I do. I know you did perfectly fine without me being there.” I need to stroke his ego. I need to admit that he’s better suited to be the head of the accounting firms than I am. Smarter than I am. I need to make him feel like he’s in control without my input. Usually that works, but tonight the hard glint in his eyes only intensifies. His fingers dig painfully into my hips as his holds becomes unbearably tight. “Connor?”

  “I doona n
eed ya ta tell me I’m better than ya, lass. I fucking know that. I needed ya ta show yur fucking face so the shareholders would stop questioning me on whether or not ya approve of anything I fucking do.”

  The accent is out. This won’t end well for me.

  I grit my teeth against the pain and gently cup his face in my hands. “Connor, please. You’re hurting me and I know you don’t really want to do that. You said hurting me hurts you just as much. Right?” He only squeezes tighter. I can’t stop myself from crying out this time. “Please stop.” If I’m not bleeding already, I know I will be soon because these thin yoga pants are no match for his strength. Kind of like me.

  “You want it to stop, you know what to do.”

  Of course, I do because just like The Joker, he’s a psycho. Unlike The Joker, he has no concern about my well-being. And knowing what to do doesn’t mean I want to do it. It should be an easy choice, simple really. Give him what he wants or suffer the consequences. It should be easy because Lord knows I’ve had plenty of practice, but fuck it’s still one of the hardest things I have to do. Even now, suffering as I am, everything in me rebels against it. I lift my chin and defiantly stare him down. He stares back and after a while I feel a slight trickle of blood at the top of my hips. My body is ready to cave. Ready to submit to him to make the torment end, but I fight it.

  “Doona tempt me, lass. We both know I can make ya verra unhappy.”

  I try to hold his gaze, but I know he’s right. He gave me my biggest weakness and I know that at any given moment he can snatch it away from me. He never hesitates to use Kaelen against me and I resent him for it. I try to rise to my tiptoes. Sometimes a kiss works. His hands tighten again and I know a kiss isn’t what he wants. “You have to let me go in order to get what you want.” Teeth still clenched against the pain, I grit the words out. One last brutal squeeze and he slowly releases me. I keep my eyes focused on his as I drop to my knees, his hands lightly trailing my sides and my arms before coming to rest on my shoulders. Unbuckling his pants and opening them to reveal him is done robotically, but I pause when I smell him. He’s fresh, the smell of his soap extremely strong. After a long day at the office, in and out of meetings, his soap should be a lingering scent. Instead its strength assaults me, meaning he took a shower before coming home. The only time he does this is when he’s been with someone else.

  “Did I know this one? Am I signing off on her paycheck, too?”

  “Nay, love.”

  I blink slowly. I didn’t expect him to actually answer, let alone attach an endearment to it. “And you wonder why I act the way I do? You can’t keep your dick to yourself.”

  “Until you start acting as a wife should, I’ll put my dick where I verra well please.”

  “I’ll start acting like a wife when I truly am one.”

  “But for now, you’ll open your fucking mouth and put it ta a much better use than speaking.”

  I silently comply, all the while fuming inside. He slips the head past my lips and releases a sigh that says he’s enjoying this much more than I would expect from someone who obviously needed to take a shower before coming home so he wouldn’t smell like his latest fuck. As though reading my mind he begins speaking.

  “I respect you too much to let you smell another woman on me, Lee. I want you. No one, but you. You keep yourself from me though. This is all I get and even though it’s better than anything I’ve ever felt, even though you’re better than anyone I’ve ever been with, I can’t truly have you. You won’t allow me that pleasure.” His breathless words end on a drawn out groan.

  Am I really supposed to sit here and listen to him spill this BS? I add in my hands and do my best to end this as quickly as possible. When his hips begin to pump without conscious thought, I know it’ll be over soon. He opens his mouth to speak again, but I tighten my hand and my mouth. He groans once more before I feel him push to the back of my throat while holding the back of my head. I try to pull away, but his fingers tighten in my hair and he pushes further cutting off my circulation. I gag, knowing I’ll have to swallow, but fighting it.

  “One way or another, I’ll always be inside you, Lee.”

  His come shoots down my throat and I choke. Tears drip from my eyes as I squeeze them closed. Panic sets in and I try to move away from him. He’s cutting off my air supply and the look in his eyes doesn’t give me hope that he cares. I try to say his name, but it comes out as unintelligible noises, so I slap my hands against his thighs. His fingers tighten in my high, pulling me even closer to him. My nails dig into his thighs and he grunts as he begins to soften. I’m finally able to gulp in air after trying to jerk my head away. I expect him to step away, but he doesn’t. He barely loosens his grip.

  “You’ll always be mine, Lee. Never forget that. Get pissed, fight me, and try to rebel, do whatever you want, but always remember who you belong to.”

  I jerk my head away from him, ripping out strands of hair in the process. Of course, he wouldn’t have let go like a normal person would and fuck that hurt. I brace myself for the anger that I know will come once I tell him I belong to no one, but a throat clearing has us both snapping our heads in the direction of the sound. Standing in the doorway is his younger brother Rory. If my skin weren’t so dark, I’d be flushed red in embarrassment. How long has he been standing there? I quickly stand, but keep my eyes lowered. I don’t have to see Rory to know he still watches me. I can feel his eyes.

  “Am I interrupting something, piuthar?”

  I like it when Rory goes Scottish. I like it even more when he refers to me as sister like he just did. Right now though, I want him to just disappear. Or me. Yes me, which would be so much better. Instead, the silence let’s me know he’s patiently waiting for an answer.

  “No, I was just about to head to the kitchen,” I say, still avoiding eye contact and trying to wipe away my tears.

  “Was there something you needed?” Connor asks, his tone clipped.

  When there’s only silence again, I risk a glance. Rory’s eyes zero in on mine and whatever he sees there causes fury to flash in his.

  “Tell me, brathair (brother),” he sneers at Connor. “Was yur need for her so great ya didna notice the blood on her or the pain in her eyes?” He gently grips my arm and pulls me to him. “Or am I ta believe the source of her misery is the one who should be protecting her?”

  As different as they are, their angry accents are the same. Connor moves to pull me back to him, but Rory’s words stop him cold.

  “Mathair would be so verra disappointed in you. She wouldna claim a mac who was becoming more and more like his athair each day.”

  His father. Rory is accusing Connor of becoming more and more like his father each day and telling him that their mother would never claim a son like that. Connor looks like he’s been hit with a blow to the chest. Rumor has it that their father, Killian, had to leave Scotland after he brutally murdered their birth mother in a fit of jealous rage. Her body was never found. Their uncle, Sean, and their mother’s family vowed that if their dad ever came back home, they would kill him. Connor and Rory were welcome and visit at least twice a year for weeks at a time, but their father hasn’t been in over 20 years. He maintains his innocence to this day and he seems regretful whenever her name is mentioned, but he’s an asshole to Teagan, so I don’t know if I believe him or not.

  “I’m nothing like him. Bailey knows I would never hurt her like that. Right Bailey?”

  Yes, he would. I definitely know that he would. If the firms weren’t in my name, he probably would have done it already. I’m tempted to say as much, but Kaelen chooses that moment to bound into the room and into Connor’s arms. And there it is, ladies and gentlemen. The weakness that Connor gave me and the one he has no qualms about threatening to take from me.

  I SHOULD FEEL bad about it, but Jax demanded that he be my sparring partner, so as I let my weight pin him down, I don’t feel an ounce of sympathy. He uselessly bucks his hips and screams his frustrations. “
You done yet, pussy boy?” I taunt. His anger makes him stronger; so, since I’m such an upstanding citizen, I’ll help him out by pissing him off more.

  “Fuck you, Nico. Get off me!”

  “Get me off you, pretty boy.” Nothing gets him riled up like us commenting on his looks. He’s like a girl . . . on steroids. I slap at his face to get him going some more.

  “Come on, Jax. Get the fuck up before you mess up your makeup,” Van yells in mock outrage while hitting the mat. “This is downright fucking disgraceful!”

  I laugh and smack his face again while Cade, Law, and East join in. If he doesn’t get me off him soon, he’ll never live this down and the reality of it is he’ll never get me off unless I let him. He barely makes it into the middleweight class for UFC fighters and I’m nearly too big for the heavyweights. I tried to give him an out when he first suggested I spar against him instead of my regular partner. He refused to back down and threw the first punch, so I gave in. He lets out another frustrated yell as he bucks his hips again.

  “How can someone with such a strong name be so damn weak?” Cade yells. “I was thinking about having Petra name our son after you, but dammit I’m taking that shit back! This is a fucking travesty!”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Jax screams. He slips an elbow through my guard, but I catch it before it can land and twist it back away from me. He grunts and glares at me.

  “Watch those elbows, sweetheart. You’ll need them when it’s time to cook our dinner tonight,” Law shouts.

  “Fuck! Why are you so damn huge?” Jax asks as he attempts to twist his body lose.

  “He’s not huge, you’re tiny and precious and just so goddamn cute. Now that I’m thinking about it, this isn’t even fair. Nico, you should not be sparring with girls,” East barely gets out between laughs.

  We make a really shitty group of friends.

  “I hate y’all. I swear I hate y’all,” Jax says before reluctantly tapping out.

  I bounce to my feet and hold out a hand to help him up. He glares and slaps it away before rolling to his feet and stalking towards the locker room. “Oh, come on. Don’t be a sore loser. If you get mad like this and storm off, who’s going to do our laundry this weekend?” I call after him. He gives us all the finger without looking back.