Page 28 of Savage Revenge (Savage Sins #1)

Jordyn

CUPCAKES AND RED FLAGS

I’m starting to think I’m actually living in an alternate universe rather than being held hostage by the man who just fucked me…

while I’m on my period. The same man who pulled out my tampon like it wasn’t some gross women’s problem that he didn’t want anything to do with.

And the same one who makes me feel… everything.

He has no boundaries. No lines. And I’m starting to wonder how far he’ll go.

In reality, I knew what I was getting myself into when I fucked him.

Cash Savage may be sick and twisted, but I might be right there along with him.

Which, strangely, I’m okay with. Because the last several days have been nice. Really nice.

I love Vegas, and I love my job. It’s something I was born and bred to do, and unlike my brother, I want to do it. I live for it. But I’m starting to wonder if that’s the only thing I want to live for anymore.

The smile is still on my face as Cash pulls down my shirt and comes to stand behind me, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

His normally slicked-back hair hangs around his eyes slightly, and his beard is longer since he hasn’t shaved yet.

The man is sex on a stick; it’s absolutely unfair how hot he is.

A pang of jealousy prickles through me at the thought of how many women probably line up for a chance with him. I hate them all.

“It’s fun being a brat to you. I’m pretty sure you need someone to bring you down a notch occasionally,” I answer proudly.

It’s true. Cash needs to be brought back to reality sometimes. One where he isn’t the boss who no one challenges.

“You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute because otherwise, you’d be walking around nonstop with a red ass,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

A shiver runs down my spine, and suddenly I can’t remember why I was irritated with him a minute ago. The man gives me sex amnesia or something.

“I have a surprise for you in the kitchen whenever you’re ready. I need to shower and then make some calls.”

A surprise? Why would Cash do something for me?

“Oh, okay. I’m going to go put some clothes on, and then I’ll go down.” I shuffle toward the bathroom door, aware that I still don’t have a tampon in.

When I glance back at him, we lock eyes and stare at each other for a long moment. It should probably feel awkward. Like the morning after walk of shame. But I’m not ashamed of last night. Or this morning. That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, and I’m going to remember it forever.

I guess being kidnapped has its advantages from time to time.

Holy hell.

The house smells like a bakery. Better than a bakery. Brown sugar and cocoa and butter. Good God, do I smell bread?

Whatever surprise Cash has for me, I have a feeling I’m going to love it. Especially since I’m already craving chocolate and carbs. Well, actually, I’m always craving those things, but it’s worse at the moment.

I nearly skip down the hall and slide into the kitchen with a grin, ready to hug Birdie.

Only she isn’t who greets me.

My smile falls as my shoulders drop. “What are you doing here?”

Beckett smirks at me. That easy-going, knows he’s hot, lazy kind of smirk that probably makes most women’s panties burst into a ball of flames. Not mine, though. Strangely enough, despite how good-looking all the Savage brothers are, only one makes me feel all squirmy.

“Good morning, bombshell. Nice to see you, too.” Beckett taps a button on the coffee machine. “I’m here because my brother said you might be craving some chocolate and other delectables this week.”

What?

I’m so confused.

Scanning the room, there are at least six different kinds of baked goods on platters on the gleaming counters. Did he buy all this stuff and bring it here? The house wouldn’t smell so good if he had done that, though.

“Wait, did you bake all this stuff?” I ask, scrunching my nose as I look up at him.

He winks at me, causing a tiny flutter in my stomach.

“My brother is a coffee snob and loves to buy expensive beans as a hobby, and I like to bake shit. So, what’s your flavor, bombshell? Chocolate?”

It takes a second before my jaw works and I’m able to speak because, seriously, what the hell? “You baked all of this? From scratch?”

He slides a steaming hot mug toward me, then sets a small glass plate next to it. A second later, a cupcake that looks too good to eat is placed on it.

“Are they poisoned?” I ask as I study it.

Might be worth it if they are. At least I’d die eating something delicious.

“What the fuck? What kind of person do you think I am, bombshell?”

I narrow my gaze at him. “Seriously? You and your asshole brothers kidnapped me and are holding me hostage. Forgive me if I don’t put poisoning my cupcake past you.”

Beckett glares at me, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look scary. Really scary. “They’re not poisoned, Jordyn. Jesus Christ. We’re not total monsters.”

I think that’s the first time Beckett’s ever used my first name, and as much as I hate to admit it, I prefer bombshell .

“Take a bite then,” I say with raised brows.

He shoots daggers at me, then sighs and, while keeping eye contact, picks up the cupcake and slowly removes the wrapper. Then, like an untrained animal, he shoves the entire thing into his mouth and grins at me as crumbs drop onto the counter.

I gag slightly and shake my head. “I said take a bite, not inhale the entire thing. Don’t you have manners?”

“No,” Cash snaps, making me startle and spin around to face him. “He doesn’t. My mom was tired of having babies in a hospital, so she decided to have Beckett at the county fair. He won first prize in the prettiest pig competition.”

Laughter bubbles out of me, and I half expect Beckett to get pissed, but instead, he chuckles and flips off his brother.

Cash walks up to him and grabs him in a partial headlock, partial hug.

My chest warms as I watch them. It’s clear these four men love each other, and from how hard Cash is trying to find his father’s murderer, I think they were close with their dad, too.

The smooth taste of coffee on my tongue suddenly turns bitter.

Here I am, acting like I’m on some exotic vacation with a hot guy, and they’re hurting.

Still searching and wondering. And I’ve done nothing to try to help.

The only thing I’ve been is a distraction.

One that I’m sure Cash is going to get tired of quickly.

When I realize the kitchen has gone quiet, I glance up to find Cash and Beckett watching me, and I swallow heavily. I need to help them. They deserve justice. Even if it means this will end sooner rather than later.

Besides, Cash and I still hate each other. Right?

“Cupcake?” Cash asks, holding a bite out to me on a fork.

My heart twists, and I lower my lashes and accept his offer, moaning as the rich chocolate hits my tongue.

“Oh, that’s really fucking good,” I mumble around it.

Beckett grins. “I call those the panty-dropper cupcakes.”

I choke, and Cash smacks his brother as Beckett bursts out laughing.

Yeah, it’s pretty hard to hate these men.

Our eyes meet for a second, and like every time, a spark ignites, only this time, there’s a weight in the pit of my stomach that I don’t like.

Averting my gaze, I stare at the pile of delicious chocolate cupcakes in front of me. “Do you think you guys can share some information with me about your dad and your business?”

All laughter dies, and I lift my chin, watching as sadness creeps over both of their intense features.

“I don’t know anything.” My fingers wrap around the hem of my tank top. “But I want to try to help if I can.”

The two men look at each other, then back at me. For a second, I’m afraid that Cash is pissed, but then he surprises me once again.

“What do you want to know, kitten?”

I shrug and hold my hands out, not really sure what I want to know. “Has that phone been dusted for prints? Our fathers’ history as enemies is well-known in Nevada. Could someone be trying to set up my father?”

Neither of them looks convinced, but Beckett looks at his brother. “I don’t know any of Dad’s other enemies, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have any. I suppose we could have the phone tested. Cassian’s team has the tools to do that.”

Cash rubs his chin, a thoughtful look on his face. “I wonder if Elliott Carver would know of any problematic people other than Kingston.”

I tense when I hear Elliott’s name. I shouldn’t, but for some reason, guilt washes over me. And of course, Cash doesn’t miss a thing.

“Why did you wince? Do you not like Carver or something?” he asks curiously, his eyebrows pinched.

I lift my shoulders and try to look as nonchalant as possible. “No, he’s fine.”

Does Elliott wonder why I blew him off? Will he still want to go out once I’m back home? The thought of spending time alone with him no longer holds any appeal.

Because of Cash?

Of course it is. I’m dick-sprung on the man. Every other guy I fuck after him will be a disappointment.

“He’s fine ?” His gaze narrows. “How so, kitten? Because when I went and saw him and mentioned your name, he thought you were pretty fucking fine , too.”

Red flags.

Big huge red flags.

With sirens.

And horns.

“He said that?” A week ago, I probably would have loved knowing that Elliott Carver said something nice about me.

But I’m not the same woman I was a week ago.

“Does it matter?” His voice is low and deadly, and even Beckett looks slightly alarmed.

“No,” I answer quickly. Too quickly.

Cash stares at me for a long moment, his gray eyes piercing into me like a knife. As if something dawns on him, his eyes widen a tiny bit. Barely enough to see it if I hadn’t been looking.

“I went and saw him the night you were supposed to go out on a date with some random fucking guy,” Cash remembers slowly. “And when I was in his office, he told me he got stood up. No call, no show.”

Shit.

This is so bad.

The vein in his neck races, and his jaw clenches so tight I’m afraid he’s going to break a tooth.

Cash is going to detonate.

“Were you supposed to go out on a date with Elliott Carver that night?”

“Cash—”

“No,” he snaps. “Answer the fucking question , kitten. Were you planning to go out with him? Was he the motherfucker you hoped you’d be getting fucked by?”

He pushes off the edge of the counter, crowding me, his nostrils flaring.

And even though he’s twice my size and probably five times stronger, I’m not afraid that he’ll hurt me.

He might spank my ass, but he won’t actually harm me.

I have a feeling anyone else is fair game. What is he so angry about, though?

“It was just a date,” I say quietly.

He rubs his jaw like I hit him, though he doesn’t stop staring at me. “Just a date,” he says slowly. Dangerously. “Were you going to fuck him, kitten?”

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on?” Xander barks as he stands in the threshold, scowling.

“Nothing we want to be part of,” Beckett answers as he moves toward Xander.

“Don’t go. We need to pay Carver a visit. Tell Kian to meet us,” Cash instructs, his scowl trained on me. “My kitten and I can finish this conversation later.”

He moves to step past me but pauses, his jaw tight.

“Just remember, there isn’t a place in this house I can’t see you, so don’t even think about arranging any fucking dates with my men while I’m out.

The only person you’re going out with or letting into that pink little cunt,” he presses a hard kiss to my temple, his voice dripping with a threat, “is me.”

Then he’s gone, and I’m left in a kitchen, surrounded by an array of baked goods while my mind is reeling about what an asshole Cash Savage is.

Why is he going to see Elliott? Shoot. Why did I react when Cash brought up his name?

But in some deep down, super fucked-up way, it feels like betrayal to Cash that I was going to go out with Eliott.

It makes no sense whatsoever, especially since I didn’t know Cash at the time.

Finally, after I’ve downed an entire deliciously fluffy cupcake, I grab one of the flaky, buttery croissants and head upstairs to get ready for yet another pool day.

Once again, as soon as I walk into my room, Cash surprises the hell out of me. Because on my bed is a bottle of ibuprofen, some chocolates, and a little stuffed kitten that warms up in the microwave and works as a heating pad.

And suddenly those red flags seem a little more beige.

Hugging the warming kitten to my chest, I plop down on the edge of the bed and let my head fall back, my eyes gazing at the ceiling as his parting words float through my mind again.

Just remember, there isn’t a place in this house I can’t see you, so don’t even think about arranging any fucking dates with my men while I’m out. The only person you’re going out with or letting into that pink little cunt is me.

He thinks he’s so in control. And for the most part, he is. Maybe a little too much. But he’s not God; he can’t see me everywhere.

My gaze skirts around, trying to figure out if that is, in fact, true. We are in Las Vegas, one of the most surveilled cities in the country, where the only place you can ever truly get privacy is within the walls of your own home and public bathrooms.

But I’m not in my own home.

Fuck. No.

No. No. No.

I look at the small white box mounted high on the wall. I assumed it was a motion detector for the security system. It has to be. My apartment has something similar in all the rooms. But what if…

I’m on my feet before I know it, grabbing onto the heavy armchair to drag it with me so I can reach the device. As soon as I step onto the cushy seat, I groan and rise onto my tiptoes as high as I can.

Shit. I’m not tall enough.

The bathroom. Is there one in there too? I haven’t noticed.

He wouldn’t, though.

I’m being paranoid.

Cash was just trying to fuck with me when he left. He was pissed for whatever jealous reason that I was going on a date with Elliott and he wanted to mess with my head. It seems to be the game we play.

Even so, I dart into the bathroom and go to the toilet, stepping onto the closed lid. I reach up, my fingertips barely touching the plastic device. As soon as I get a grasp of it and yank, the entire thing pops off the wall, pulling a tiny wire out with it.

As my heart races and my stomach twists, I pinch the wire and pull. Then, when I’m staring back into the tiny lens of a camera, the room starts to spin, and I stumble down from the toilet.

He put cameras in my bathroom.

Where I shower.

And pee.

And… oh God.