Page 30 of Savage in the Streets
Keeping Caleb Savage at bay hasn’t been easy. He’s impatient, temperamental, and determined to get to Bailey.
Fortunately, he lacks a clear understanding of the judicial system.
So I lie to him.
Ashton:With the surveillance the courts have in place, a meet up is too risky. Once we’re in court again, and they see that she’s not a flight risk, I’ll be able to set up a meeting.
Caleb:that’s bullshit
Ashton:I could set up a meeting now, but you have a few outstanding warrants, so things could go sideways for you.
Caleb:clock’s ticking
His effort tosound like a badass makes me snort with laughter. It’s shocking how gullible Caleb is, especially with how many courtrooms he’s been in during his twenty-five years.
I go into the living room to see Bailey seated on the couch, watching a true-crime show.
How fitting.
Her legs are jackknifed under her body, an oversized sweatshirt drawn over her knees. She’s undeniably cute for a thug.
Just seeing her makes me want to pick up where I left off last night, leaving a trail of kisses from her lush lips to her needy cunt.
God I want to fuck her so bad.
But that is not why I’m here.
I take a seat, which draws an apprehensive gaze. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your cave?”
“Question.”
She hits pause on the television. “What is it?”
“Why haven’t you hired a tattoo artist? It’s been at least five months since you last had one.”
“Because every person that applied for the position had a history of drug use.”
“You care about that?” I ask in earnest.
“Not only did it take a serious toll on my shop when my business partner passed, but my childhood as well. You might think I’m lying, but I’ve never touched drugs. Heck, I barely drink alcohol. It’s not worth it.”
I believe her. I have no good reason to, but her tone suggests genuine distaste. Not only that, but I found none in her apartment, and she had no way of knowing I’d be searching it.
She looks back toward the television. “Is that all?”
Yes, but I don’t want it to be. I shouldn’t crave her attention like I do, but here I am, pleading in my head for her to look at me.
“How’s it working out with Mabel?” I ask innocuously.
“She sends me pictures of her finished work. It’s decent. She managed to fuck up one of my client’s hair.”
“Ouch!”
“Oh, he doesn’t realize it, and that’s all that matters. If she lived closer and my outlook was better, I’d ask her to come on full time.”
“Is it true you made her take a blowtorch to someone’s hair?”
Bailey smirks. “People pay good money for heat damage.”
