Page 48 of Savage
He was telling the truth.
Novak showed me the messages confirming what I’d already come to realize.
“Rodger,” I called.
He turned back to face me. His brown eyes were wide with hope. Novak tossed him the phone back.
“You’re going to only let one of those go through but bust the other four. Message me exactly which one,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay, I can do that, but are you sure—”
I glared at him, and he shut up. Devyn released his wife. She scrambled up into the bed and hid behind him.
He couldn’t truly protect her even if he wanted to, and we all knew it.
I nodded, and we headed out. “Don’t mess this up.”
“I won’t,” Rodger shot back.
That was what they all said. We’d see if he actually followed through. We left the suburban home. I entered the car as Ken moved to the front to drive. The twins made their way down the street to their parked car.
“Back home?” Ken asked.
I rolled my shoulders back, easing the tension between my shoulder blades. My phone dinged, alerting me to a message.
A picture of Sayge sprawled out on my bed, his long hair spread out. The shirt he wore was unbuttoned but covered his cock. His chest and torso were bare, showing off his pale flesh. I ran my tongue over my teeth, wanting to bite and mark him all over again. The ones there were all but faded.
Another message popped up, and my good mood dropped once more. “Main house.”
* * *
“Right this way,” the maid said as she led me to one of the sitting rooms. The moment I walked through the doors, she closed them behind me. I found the old man sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace as if it wasn’t a hundred degrees outside.
“Sit,” the old man said, pointing to the chair next to him. He had his drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, trading back and forth between the two.
We sat there in silence. I waited until he was ready to address me.
“I heard you’re keeping three strays.”
My back stiffened.
His gray eyes flickered over to me. I hadn’t prepared for him to know. He hadn’t paid any attention to me in years.
I messed up.
“Weaknesses are no good to the Lauretti’s monster,” he said coolly.
The urge to reach for my gun made my palms sweat. I should have hidden them better. An ice-cold chill crept up my spine and penetrated my heart. Everything slowed down in front of me.
It was a normal day like any other. I’d helped my mother in the kitchen, making her favorite apricot and ratafia sponge cake. She smiled down at me even if I never returned the gesture. She was a kind woman with bright green eyes and dark brown hair. She was the only parent I knew. My father wasn’t spoken about, not even by my mother.
Just as she’d placed the cake into the oven, screams echoed into the kitchen. Gunshots followed, and my mother grabbed me. “You have to hide—”
“Aurora, I know you’re here,” a deep voice resonated around them.
I’d only heard it once when my mother spoke on the phone. She’d begged for more time. The sheer terror on her face was unmistakable. She cupped my face, her warm fingers trembling.
“Mio prezioso ragazzo. Qualsiasi cosa succeda. Sappi che ti amo.” She placed a kiss on my temple.
