Page 18 of Savage Captor (Deadly Devotion #1)

Grey

I don’t try to hold back my temper as I storm through HQ’s main building. I’m too impatient to wait for the elevator, so I take the stairs, intent on getting to Boyce’s room and ripping him a fucking new one.

Cain catches up with me as I’m storming past the second floor. “Is she stable?”

She’s more than stable. She’s as sharp as her last name suggests, not to mention witty.

And so, so beautiful with her doe eyes and parted lips.

I’m having to confront the fact that Scarlett Sharpe is a human—more, a likeable human.

She’s not a demon or an evil seductress.

She’s a young woman who’s innocent of her father’s crime.

“She’s awake. Seems lucid.” Lucid enough to jab at me despite the fear shining in her eyes.

“Good,” Cain says. “I checked up on some things. Had an acquaintance of mine double-check the information we received from Boyce. Turns out, he handed us a bunch of photoshopped bullshit. Scarlett wasn’t receiving money from her father’s account.

Someone paid for her college and her off-campus housing, but it wasn’t her father. ”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. The transactions for her tuition and apartment were both made by a shell-corp. I have a list of all the shell corps Luther uses to wash his money, and this isn’t one of them.

Scarlett’s Patron is someone else.” Cain pauses thoughtfully as we reach the top floor.

He glances at me from the corner of his eyes. “Probably her boyfriend.”

My nostrils flare as something hot roils inside of me. The idea of her having a boyfriend is fundamentally repulsive, though I can’t pinpoint precisely why . Something about it just feels wrong.

“Whoever he is, he’ll never see her again,” I grunt, and make my way into Boyce’s office.

I don’t even bother to knock; I just barge right inside.

Boyce is seated behind his desk, talking with someone on the phone.

At my abrupt entrance, he pauses in his conversation and looks me over, eyes narrowing.

Cain follows behind me and shuts the door, stopping beside me with his hands folded into the pockets of his slacks.

“I’ll call you back,” Boyce grunts, and hangs up the phone. He looks from me, to Cain, and then back to me again. “What the fuck are you doing in my office?”

“You lied,” I say, stalking forward. “You fucking lied about Scarlett. You showed us bullshit bank statements and a few out of context pictures, and convinced us that she’s her father’s asset. You preyed on my grief and set me on an innocent girl.”

Boyce’s demeanor changes in a heartbeat, going from irritated to something far more calculated, callous, and dangerous . His upper lip curls into a sneer, and he gives me a glare that challenges me to cross him at my own peril.

“Innocent,” Boyce scoffs. He smiles, but the slant of his lips is malicious. “No Sharpe is innocent .” He reaches for a full glass of liquor on his desk and drains half of it in a single swallow. “How’d you find out?”

He doesn’t even try to deny it. I want to do to him everything that I did to Scarlett. I want him to suffer for what he made me do—no, what he inspired me to do.

“I called Scarlett’s father to let him hear her screams. He told me that he disowned her, offered to buy her from me only to sell her into slavery. He never supported her. He kept her as a fucking captive— ”

“Careful there, Greyson,” Boyce says, his tone growing quiet. “You almost sound like you care for the girl.” He polishes off his drink, then pins me with a warning glower. “Who authorized you to call her father in the first place? Sure as shit wasn’t me, which means you went against orders—”

“I suggested it,” Cain interjects, stepping forward.

Even now, he has my back. We both know that Boyce isn’t ballsy enough to try to come for Cain; not when most of the Nighthawks are fiercely loyal to Cain.

“I thought it might be an effective way to confront Scarlett with her lies and force out the truth. It was quite a shock to find out that she was telling the truth, after all. Care to explain why you lied and framed Scarlett?”

Boyce flexes his jaw. “If you’d listened to orders, it would’ve worked out.

I’d have sent her body to her father and ensured he received it while surrounded by his men, who would’ve compelled him to avenge his only blood relative’s honor.

Instead, you had to go off the rails and tip Luther off.

” His sweaty palm slams down on the table, rattling the surface.

He shakes his head as he thinks, glaring at the table.

I use every inch of composure and control I have to keep from leaping across his desk and strangling him for his lies.

“We can still stick with the plan,” Boyce says. “Greyson, kill her. Now. We’ll still arrange for her corpse to become a spectacle to the Widowers.”

“No,” I say without hesitation. “No fucking way.”

Boyce tilts his head to look at me. The glint in his eyes promises murder. “Excuse me? ”

“Killing her now would be a waste of a useful resource,” Cain says calmly.

“She can only do so much dead, but alive… alive is a different story. If you think the Widowers will revolt if they hear about her death, imagine what they’ll do if they hear that their biggest rivals have turned her into a toy.

That’ll definitely draw them out of hiding. ”

I turn to glare at Cain, silently, warning him to shut the fuck up.

What he’s suggesting is ludicrous. It’s wrong.

And yet… heat coils in my gut as an image of Scarlett flashes through my mind.

Her eyes are bright with defiance as she lays in my bed.

Arms tied above her head, legs spread and attached to the footboard, maybe even to a spreader bar to keep her vulnerable to my gaze…

Christ . I can’t let my mind go there. I just promised to protect her; I can’t have dark fantasies about her.

She’s my captive, but she’s no longer the girl I’m going to interrogate or kill.

She’s something else. In the absence of my hatred, my admiration and respect for her have doubled.

I’ve started noticing things about her that I previously ignored.

Like how pretty her cheeks look when she blushes.

How expressive her face is. How accepting she is of her fear, and how she’s braver than most of the men I know.

“What are you suggesting?” Boyce grunts.

“I’m suggesting that we make her into a toy. Use her, fuck her, keep her as a pet and ensure every single Widower knows it.”

Boyce nods slowly, his frown dropping as he warms to the idea. I, on the other hand, am not on board with it. Dirty fantasies aside, Scarlett’s already been tortured here. To turn her into a goddamn sex slave on top of it… I can’t let Boyce do that to her. Not to her.

“We’re not rapists here,” I interject.

“We are whatever I say we are,” Boyce snaps, banging his fist on the table again. He might be lenient with Cain because he’s rightfully afraid of his second in command, but I’ll receive no such latitude from him.

“I’ll pay her a visit later tonight. Maybe even film myself fucking her,” Boyce says. A disgustingly eager grin crawls over his lips.

The image his words conjure, of him forcing himself on Scarlett…

it’s too much. I can’t stomach it. A mixture of panic and determination drives my next words, as obscene as they are.

“No. She’s still mine. Killing her is off the table, but if she’s going to be anyone’s toy, she’ll be mine.

” I lock eyes with Boyce. “Don’t deny me this. ”

It’s wrong. It’s so goddamn wrong just how much I like the words that fall from my lips. If Scarlett’s going to be stuck here, then she’ll be under my supervision. She’ll be my toy. I’ll take care of her as she heals. And maybe once she’s better…

“That’s a fair request,” Cain remarks. “After all, Grey’s the one who’s gotten the short end of the stick in all of this.”

“You’ll have to tame her,” Boyce challenges. “You’ve never tamed a woman before, and if that girl’s anything like her father, she’ll be tough to break.”

She’s impossible to break , and more, I don’t want to break her. But bend her a little…

Damnit, she was right when she called me insane, but I can’t seem to stop imagining her in countless positions. Held open for me. Completely at my mercy. Waiting for me to do whatever I want to her…

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Boyce says. “After all, you seem to be very protective of her all the sudden. Maybe I should be the one to break her in for you. Just in case.”

I take a menacing step forward. “ No .”

“I’ll stand as witness the first time he takes her,” Cain suggests. “That way you know he’ll go through with it.”

My lips thin at Cain’s declaration, the liberties he’s taking, but I can’t go against him. As unspeakable as his suggestion is… it keeps Scarlett alive. It lets me keep my promise of protecting her without imploding the structure of the Nighthawks.

Boyce flexes his jaw and runs a hand through his greasy hair, mussing it up. “Okay. Fine. But if Greyson’s too much of a pussy to take charge, bring the girl to me. I’ll see to it that she’s properly looked after.”

I want to kill him . God, I haven’t wanted to kill anyone this badly in a long, long time—not even Scarlett when I thought she played a hand in my brother’s death.

I want to tear Boyce’s world apart. I want him to live and breathe agony, experience every form of pain there is at my hands. I can almost see it; having him strapped down to a metal cot in the annex, where I can get to work on him with one of my knives…

I think Cain senses my mounting anger, because he checks my shoulder with his as he turns around.

“Not now,” he murmurs, quietly enough that Boyce won’t hear. “You’ll get your opportunity soon.”