Page 22 of Savage Temptation
Jagger holds a hand up. “Slow down a second, baby. You are not putting yourself out there for him to play target practice with. Bourbon’s hunt was a success. Yes. He found the young man who delivered flowers to the ounge after the police let him go. I’ve got a few questions for him. That’s all. We start small before showing our hand.”
I purse my lips and bite the inside of my lip to keep from causing… “You know what? No. I don’t believe you for a second since you’re armed like a tank. You’ll get answers and then go hunting, which will get you hurt or killed”
The bastard actually has the audacity to smile at me. Like I revealed his plan, but he has no plans of changing a damn thing.
He turns to Reaper. “You good with the plan, Prez?”
Reaper nods. “Keep us in the loop. Find out if he knows how they are getting Euphoria into the city. It has to get here somehow before those fuckers can put it in the flowers. Call in support if you need it.”
“Copy.”
I hear Jagger acknowledge his president’s orders, but the man I love has other ideas.
“Oliver doesn’t play by the rules,” I throw out when Jagger tries to walk toward the front door. That pulls him to a stop, his keys dangling from his fingers. He’s not trying to be rude or hurtful. I know he wants to keep me safe, but I’m done having my control taken away.
“He’ll find me one way or another. I’m safest with you, Storm.” His new name feels nice rolling off the tongue.
“You have to stay here.Thisis where you are safe.” He threads his fingers through my hair and pulls me in for a kiss. Everyone suddenly has somewhere else to be. Okay, so that is how this is going to play out. I see I am left to fight this battle alone.
“I’m going to find out what this kid knowsaloneand…”
“The hell you are. Not without me.” I take his keys and head for the door. “There’s no damn way I’m sitting this out like a scared little girl. I want my life back, I have to fight for it. I’m good with that.”
And that is how I land in the middle of the Voodoo Lounge at the stroke of midnight with a flower boy in tears.
7
EMILIA
Iwish I had taken Jinx up on the offer of a change of clothes. I would have liked a shower too. Since I didn’t, I am irritable and have little patience for tears
Frankly, it’s hard to feel bad for the flower boy when he keeps throwing me a judgmental side eye at my feathers.
Jagger pulls out his guns and places them on a table. They are impressive pieces with silver pearl inlays on the handles. I don’t know the names of guns at all, but those puppies are huge and scary. Big enough to leave the sniffling flower boy with a big hole in his head if he doesn’t start talking. And I tell him as much.
“Crying won’t change the fact that you’re not leaving that chair without giving us answers. Unless you want to be worm food come sunrise. Jagger only wants to know delivery schedules. We already know about the Euphoria and the deliveries using flowers. Tell us that and you can run home and live to tell the tale that you survived a Savage. Oliver never has to know.”
The mention of Oliver’s name has the kid who looks to be no older than eighteen with a patchy attempt at a beard andmustache on his baby face turning ghostly pale. And the tears dry up.
“That’s interesting.” Jagger picks up on the shift in the guy and takes over.
“Oliver scares you.” Pure delight ripples over Jagger's expression. “What do you think he will do when he finds out you let yourself get caught by a Savage?”
“Gator bait,” I chime in feeling a little sick to my stomach at scaring the kid, but I know it will help many people in the end. I make the chomping sign with my fingers against my thumb. “Painful. Have you seen them do a death roll? I hate the idea of being stuffed under a rock and nibbled on every now and again when they want a midnight snack.”
The longer I talk the paler the boy gets. He shifts in his chair.
“Uhh. You’re…you’re kiddin’ right? You won’t do something like that to me.”
Jagger runs his finger along his gun. “She wouldn’t, but you work for Oliver you know damn sure he would.”
The boy chokes down a swallow and I swear I want to pick up the phone and call his mother to come pick him up. But that won’t do anyone any good.
“Look man, I just needed extra cash. My momma is workin’ three jobs, and I found something that could help. If you like I can give you the full delivery schedule they gave me. That work?”
The boy presses his lips together like he is trying to keep from confessing more truths.
“What?” I ask, looking at him through narrowed eyes. We’ve kept the lights low and the whole place locked down since we aren’t exactly supposed to be in here. So, I doubt he can see my quizzical look. Because of that, I layer in all the intimidation I can muster into what I have to say next. “Spill it, asshole! What are you not telling us?”
