Page 42 of Savage Hate
His eyes find mine. “They believed him. Gave him a ton of money to continue spreading the gospel. He was manipulating them.” He pauses, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times. “They’re unwell now. Hospitalized.”
I let out a heavy sigh, feeling like there is more to that story. “Wow. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs again. “Each day away from that fucking cult is a victory. I’m getting my revenge. Slowly, but surely.”
I nod. “So, that’s why he’s after you. Because you’re outing them by inking their faces.”
He smiles. “Among other things. We have the capacity to do something about it. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Scarlet Letter Vigilantes,” I add, twisting my lips to the side.
“Can I get business cards with that name?” Damon asks from his place at his station.
I smirk, and then Damon and Jude busy themselves with their prep. I turn to Silas, but before I can speak, he takes a step closer to me.
“How’s it healing?” he asks, his voice low, just for me to hear. “May I?” he adds, reaching out for my shirt.
I nod, and he takes another step forward, unbuttoning my pants and tugging them down ever so slightly. I try not to audibly gasp as his calloused fingers graze my skin. He lowers my underwear and takes a quick peek at my healing tattoo. I’ve been keeping it covered with underwear, so it doesn’t rub against the rough texture of my jeans. Silas runs a finger over the sensitive area, and the sensation makes me shiver.
“It looks good,” he murmurs, pulling my underwear and pants back up. I button them as my eyes find his. His icy blue irises are darker somehow, and his lids are hooded. Licking his lips, he takes a step back. “Have you been taking care of it?”
I give him a small smile. My heart is hammering inside of my chest. “Yes. I am taking very good care of it, master,” I respond in a teasing tone, in an attempt to alleviate this growing tension.
I doesn’t work, though.
His eyes darken further, and their intensity bores into me, causing me to start breathing heavier as my pulse whooshes in my ears.
“Don’t call me that,” he commands.
I cock my head to the side in confusion. “What,master?” He makes a low humming sound in his throat, and I swallow. “I was joking–”
“Don’t make me show you how much that wordisn’ta joke, Lennon,” he adds, raising his eyebrows as he saunters off.
What.
The.
Hell.
twenty-five
Lennon
My eyes are burning by the time I wrap up for the evening. I didn’t realize how crappy I slept last night, and how tired I am right now because of it. Tonight passes by uneventfully, with no more signs of Liam or anything else amiss. And the guys didn’t have me scrubbing toilets tonight, either. Their revenge plot seems to have petered out, and I’m not quite sure why. Something about my mom insulting me, or about the tattoo, seems to have softened them a bit. And then everything with Liam…
The tattoo is a reminder for you. Not for us. For you.
That maybe all along, we were the good guys.
That maybe you fit in here–at Savage.
With us.
My throat constricts when I think of Silas’ words, about how different they are from the first encounter we had the night I moved in. I glance at them as they clean up their stations, and a warm feeling spreads throughout my body as I watch them bicker with each other. I didn’t expect to like them, to like working here, or being their friend. But I do, and somehow, I feel more like myself here than I ever have.
My phone dings loudly from my purse, and I glance down at the screen. I gasp and my mouth opens and closes as I read Lola’s words.
Just found out there’s a condo in my complex that will be vacant soon. I signed you up to view it tomorrow morning at 11. Hope you don’t mind. :)
