Page 10 of Savage Revenge (Savage Sins #1)

Jordyn

CASH SAVAGE IS THE ENEMY

Despite my effort not to cry, tears roll over my cheeks as I slide down the wall until I land on my butt with my knees curled up to my chest. What the hell am I going to do? How do I get out of this? And the question that is burning inside me most of all: Is my father a murderer?

I stare at the broken glass scattered all over the floor and huff out a breath. I can’t believe I missed him with that vase. It’s probably a good thing. Pissing off Cash Savage more than he already is might not be the best idea.

Only a minute or two passes before the lock disengaging has me springing to my feet again.

I expect to see Cash, but instead, another man I don’t recognize walks into the room.

He’s bigger than Cash, both in height and broadness, which is saying something.

If I were to guess, Cash is at least six-foot-three, but this guy is several inches taller than that.

We lock eyes, and I immediately glare at him. “Unless you’re here to break me out, leave me alone.”

A small smile plays at his lips, and I’m immediately annoyed with myself that I find him attractive. Seriously, what is wrong with me? First, Cash, and now this dude? They are criminals. Kidnappers.

“Once the glass is cleaned up, I’ll leave you alone. Until then, you must be Jordyn. I’m Caleb. Nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand like I’m going to shake it.

“Go fuck yourself,” I mutter as I look him up and down with disgust.

This time, he actually chuckles and shrugs. “Can’t do that while I’m on duty. Maybe later, though.”

He stands in front of the closed door, statue-still, until there’s a knock. He opens it, letting in an older woman with gray hair. She has a broom and a vacuum with her, unbothered by the scene before her.

When she looks at me, she smiles sweetly. “Hello, dear. I’m Edith, Cash’s nighttime housekeeper. If you need anything, let Caleb know and he’ll send me a message.”

I like her immediately. She has kind eyes that I trust right away. “Can you please call the police and tell them I’m being held against my will?”

Edith smiles as she starts cleaning up large pieces of glass. “I’m sure if Mr. Savage has you staying here, there’s a good reason for it. Once I’m done, I’ll bring you a nice sandwich and a drink. Do you prefer whiskey or gin?”

I guess it was wishful thinking that one of Cash’s employees would help me out.

“Whiskey.” I let out a defeated sigh. “An entire bottle of it, please.”

She smiles wider and winks at me. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Then she continues cleaning up the mess while I stare at her in disbelief. How can someone who seems so sweet be an accomplice to kidnapping? Sometimes, people really surprise me.

As soon as she shuts off the vacuum and heads toward the door, Caleb opens it for her and lets her out, but he doesn’t leave with her.

“I’ll be right outside your room. As Edith said, if you need anything, let me know,” he tells me.

I throw my hands in the air. “Yeah, and shall I teleport through the locked door to get to you?”

Caleb raises an eyebrow, his expression purely amused. I hate him. “Or you can knock, and I’ll answer it since I’ll be right outside.”

This time, I raise both hands and flip him off.

Chuckling, he steps through the threshold and leaves me alone in this prison.

White-hot anger rushes through me, my entire body trembling as I stomp over to the bed and pick up a pillow to scream into.

It only makes me feel marginally better by the time I’m done.

As I look around the room again, my gaze shifts to the large windows. I rush over to one of them. How high up am I? Maybe I can jump. I have no clue where we are, but I can see the lights of The Strip in the distance, so at least I know I’m somewhat close to Vegas.

I use every ounce of strength that I have to try to open the window, but it doesn’t work. There’s some kind of locking mechanism on it. Even if I were to get it open, I wouldn’t survive jumping from this height.

There’s nothing but concrete below, which wraps around the sparkling, blue, illuminated pool.

Perfectly manicured patches of grass adorn both sides.

It looks like a resort down there. Chairs, loungers, lounge beds, two cabanas and smaller potted palm trees wrap around the pool in clusters.

I try to look at the surroundings, but I can’t really see anything beyond the lit-up fountain that’s on the far side of the pool because it’s so dark out.

How long have I been here? It was late afternoon when I got to my apartment. There’s not a single clock in this room, though.

Another wave of nausea hits me, and I run into the ensuite, kicking the door shut before I go to the sink and splash cold water on my face hoping to keep myself from throwing up.

Thankfully, it works, and when the feeling passes, I stare at myself in the mirror, wincing at my reflection.

So much for all the beauty treatments I had earlier.

My hair is a ratty mess, my makeup is smeared, and my skin is red and blotchy.

No wonder Caleb found me so damn amusing. I’m a wreck.

It takes me a minute of searching the expansive bathroom, but eventually I find a stack of fluffy white washcloths in a linen closet and use one to wash my face.

Cash’s cologne still wafts in the air, and it’s then that I realize it’s because it’s on my clothes.

How the hell did his scent get all over me?

Once I’ve scrubbed at least a couple of layers of skin off my face, I throw the cloth on the counter and go to the toilet.

I can’t believe this is happening. Stuff like this doesn’t happen in real life.

This is the type of thing people watch in movies.

It’s got to be a bad dream. Right? I pinch my bare thigh and wince as I finish peeing.

Ouch. That hurt. This is not a dream. It’s a total nightmare, though.

One that’s real and that I need to get out of.

As soon as I wash and dry my hands, I peek into the bedroom.

It’s empty, though Edith must have come back in while I was in the bathroom because there’s a tray of food on a table near one of the window seats.

If this were any other situation, I’d be completely in love with this room.

It has such a calming vibe to it between the crisp white and cream colors and the added touches of pillows, throw blankets, paintings of cacti and palm trees on the walls.

It’s the type of place you’d want to stay on vacation.

You know, when you’re not being held against your will.

Why do I find it annoying that Cash has such a nicely decorated room?

Maybe he has a woman in his life who helps him with that sort of thing.

Considering he’s an arrogant asshole, he probably has a slew of women helping him with stuff like that.

I don’t even want to think about what his type might be.

Probably skinny and plastic and dumb. The type who laughs at everything he says, which is why his ego is so damn big. Disgusting.

My stomach growls loudly, and I glance at the tray again.

What if it’s poisoned? Do I really want a sandwich to be my last meal?

I’m so hungry, though. I hadn’t had anything other than coffee all day and was planning to grab some food while I was changing at home.

Obviously, those plans went to shit the moment I walked into my apartment.

I tiptoe across the thick carpet and sit on the padded window seat that overlooks the backyard and pool. Another nice touch to the space.

There’s no bottle of whiskey on the tray, but she did leave a half-filled glass with some in it. Without hesitation, I drink it in one gulp, appreciating the burn it causes in my throat then down to my chest.

“Thank you, Edith. I forgive you for not calling the cops for me,” I mutter to myself.

She might not help save me, but if she brings me plenty of alcohol to deal with Cash, then I might make her my new friend.

The neatly stacked turkey and cheese sandwich is perfection as I wolf down half of it in a few bites. I’m not sure if it was truly that good or if I was just starving, but it doesn’t matter either way. Between the liquor and the food, I feel a bit better by the time I’m done.

With my back against the wall, I reach for one of the close-by throw blankets and cover myself with it as I curl up in the window seat and stare outside at the night sky.

Just as my eyes start feeling heavy, movement below catches my attention.

Cash strides across the patio toward the pool and sits in one of the chairs near it.

I’m not sure if he can see me, but he’s not looking in this direction, so I don’t move away.

For some reason, getting this glimpse of him feels intimate.

And as he lights up a cigarette and rests his elbows on his knees, then drops his head, I almost…

almost feel a sense of sympathy for him.

It’s obvious he’s not in the right frame of mind.

He’s hunting for the person who killed his dad, and he isn’t being rational.

I watch him for a long time while he sits there, smoking and running his hands through his hair, looking like a defeated lion hiding in his den.

Part of me wishes I could go down there and talk to him, make him realize that there’s no way my father murdered his.

The other part of me still hates him and wants him to suffer the same way I am right now.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but the dim oranges and yellows of the sun on the horizon begin to creep up from behind the mountains by the time he stands and turns toward the house.

I should move away from the window, but I can’t make myself.

And when he looks up and meets my gaze through the glass, my entire body freezes.

We stare at each other for a long moment, and I can’t breathe the entire time. My heart does a weird stutter as I keep my eyes locked with his. It’s as though something passes between us, though I’m not sure what it is.

Then, he breaks our eye contact and goes inside without so much as a backward glance in my direction.

“Wake up, kitten.”

The deep voice sends a wave of warmth through me when I roll onto my back and slowly open my eyes with a soft groan. As soon as I see Cash standing over me, everything comes crashing back into reality.

He sets a coffee cup on the bedside table, then straightens and glares at me. Obviously he trusts me a lot more than he should since I threw a glass vase at him last night. He’s basically handing me another weapon. Lucky for him, I need this coffee more than I want to murder him at the moment.

From the shadows lingering under his eyes, I’d say he hasn’t slept since he went inside in the wee hours of the morning.

I can’t remember how long I sat in the window seat after that, but at some point, I dragged myself to the bed.

Once I crawled under the silky sheets and pulled the perfectly weighted duvet over me, I slept better than I have in months.

It’s probably whatever he drugged me with that’s still circulating in my bloodstream.

“Coffee,” he announces, nodding toward the cup.

I rub my eyes and sit up. “Did you make it or did Edith?”

“I did.”

“Hm. No thanks.”

Cash is silent for a second, then sighs. “Don’t be a brat.”

If he thinks this is me being a brat, he hasn’t seen anything yet.

“Drink your coffee and then come downstairs. Caleb will show you where to go.”

“Again, no thanks. I’ll stay here until you pull your head out of your ass and let me go.”

“Goddammit, Jordyn,” he barks. “It wasn’t a fucking request. If you’re not down there in half an hour, I’m coming back up here. You won’t like what happens if I do.”

I glare at him. “What are you going to do? Threaten to spank me again?”

Why am I challenging him?

“It won’t be a threat if I have to come back up here, kitten. It will be reality,” he warns darkly.

That’s why. Because he’s an asshole, and I don’t think he has enough people in his life who tell him no.

“You’re gonna spank me, Cash?” I ask sarcastically. “Are you going to want me to call you Daddy while you do it, too?”

His eyes flicker, and his nostrils flare as he slowly leans over, resting his hands on either side of my hips so our faces are only inches apart.

“Actually, I want you to call me Daddy all the time, not just while I’m spanking you, kitten.

Now, drink your fucking coffee and be downstairs within thirty minutes. ”

Then he pushes himself up and stalks out of the room, leaving me, once again, staring at the door in complete shock with my mouth hanging open.

I want you to call me Daddy all the time.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach as those words replay in my mind.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why does the thought of calling Cash that have me squeezing my thighs together as my panties suddenly become damp?

I’m his captive. Nothing about this is sexy or hot.

It’s sick and twisted, and I’m going to need lifelong therapy after this is over. If I’m even alive.

The scent of coffee interrupts my stray thoughts, and I glance at the steaming cup again. He made it for me. Not Edith or anyone else.

It probably tastes like shit.

Carefully, I pick it up and bring it to my lips, taking a small sip. My eyes widen as the smooth, bitter flavor washes over my tongue, followed by a lingering nutty aftertaste.

Holy crap. This is the best coffee I’ve ever had.

Before I know it, the cup is empty, and I’m sad that it’s gone.

As much as I want to defy him to prove a point, I’m not sure I want to test Cash. Would he actually come up here and try to spank me? I don’t think he’s a man who bluffs.

Something is seriously wrong with me.

Cash Savage is the enemy.

He’s a monster who will destroy me if I let him.

Which is why I need to get my hormones in check and get a hold of this situation before it gets any more out of control.

I might be his prisoner, but I’m going to make him regret the day he ever laid eyes on me.