Page 1 of Savagely Yours
CHAPTER ONE
DEZ
A low thud sounded from behind the closed office door, and I waited for the “Don’t worry, I’m fine” that always came after any odd noise from the other side of the wooden partition. When nothing followed, I rose from the main security desk and knocked.
“Ms. Tapley? You all right in there?”
For a moment, there was no response.
Then came a soft, “No, I’m not.”
I opened the door and peered inside.
She’d closed all the blinds so that the fading evening light filtered in slits into the large office. Lamps provided the rest of the lighting, casting a soft glow in shades of gold and amber. I’d been assigned to the security detail for federal prosecutor, Larke Tapley, for a little over a year. So, I’d come to learn that once those blinds shut while the sun was still out, that meant she was overwhelmed.
“What’s going on?” I asked, slowly entering.
Only the top of her head was visible from where she’d planted her forehead on her desktop. Papers and open books were scattered everywhere, another sign that she was barely holding it together. Usually, she was organized and detail-oriented to thepoint that she could spot an off-center necktie from a mile off—mine.
Only the first slip-up was authentic; the discipline instilled in me from my time in the military never entirely went away. That single time that my tie was askew, I’d had no time to readjust it after removing my coat.
Every instance since then was orchestrated to get her to walk up to me and nudge it back into place with a light touch, while she absentmindedly recounted some story that I always absorbed like a sponge.
“Am I crazy?” She raised her head. “You’ve been by my side for at least a year, Dez. You know me better than everyone else I work with.”
I shut the door and walked over to her desk. “That’s because you don’t talk to them,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but I don’t like them, though.”
I took a seat in one of the guest chairs on the other side of the desk. While I’d known returning to civilian life would have presented its own unique challenges, I didn’t anticipate how bored I would be outside of these private moments with her.
Regardless, I remained on high alert.
Something was happening around the globe. People from different countries had recorded things on their phones that were so out of this world, many people wrote them off as AI-generated. When the issue grew too large for the government to ignore, all the public received from the Feds was vague reassurance that the videos they’d seen didn’t pose a threat. All the while, alarm bells had been secretly sounding in the nation’s capital.
Before all of that started happening, I was hired through a private defense contract as part of a team to provide security for Larke Tapley. The request began as a safety precaution due to a case she’d been assigned. Then, one week ago, I was debriefedto watch out for anything suspicious in addition to assassins looking to murder the cute prosecutor.
“Ithink I’m crazy,” she continued. “Why would I have agreed to this case?”
“Because of who asked,” I said.
“He only asked because he thinks I’ll make a good scapegoat.” She motioned to herself. “Look at me.”
And I did.
I’d been “looking” at her since my first week on the job. I’d had to review a dossier complete with background information, videos, and photos of Larke Victoria Tapley. Still, no lens could accurately capture a pair of alluring eyes that perfectly complemented her honey-brown skin.
At first, noticing it was enough; I was hired to do a job, and I was too disciplined to let a pretty face distract me.
Eventually, however, noticing became attraction.
It became ruminating, daydreaming, looking away whenever she smiled, and thinking about her long after we separated for the evening.
“I’m looking at you. What’s wrong with you?”
“In the public eye, I make a good scapegoat,” she reiterated. “I’m Black, a woman, and I received my law degree from an HBCU.”
“Those all sound like excellent accolades to me.”
