Savage Collision (A Savage Love Duet #1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  SAVAGE

  COLLISION

  T.L. SMITH

  Copyright T.L Smith 2017

  Savage Collision by T.L Smith

  Book 1

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  WARNING

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Cover – RBA

  Photographer- Perrywinkle Photography

  Edited – Swish Editing

  Proofread – Contagious Edits

  Formatting - Angels-Indie-formatting

  A kiss could bond you, taint you, claim you. If you let it, it could own you.

  A kiss from a stranger was highly unlikely.

  A kiss from a man who hid himself from me, yet slowly tormented me, was unlike any other kiss.

  It was the kiss of death.

  It was my hands in cuffs chained to his waist.

  And only he could set me free.

  How could I be so blind? How could I have let a man that was delicious as sin take a grip on me? No matter how hard I tried to pull, those cuffs stayed glued to him as the wall that stood between us.

  I had to smash that wall, I had to see the truth.

  Even if we collide. Even if he’s my own savage collision. I have to be set free.

  Other books by T.L Smith

  Sasha's Dilemma (Dilemma #1)

  Adam’s Heaven (Dilemma #1.5)

  Sasha’s Demons (Dilemma #2)

  Krinos (Take Over #1)

  Kalon (Take Over #2)

  Kratos (Take Over #3)

  Pure Punishment (Standalone)

  Antagonize Me (Standalone)

  Degrade (Flawed #1)

  Twisted Perception (Flawed #2)

  Black (Black #1)

  Red (Black #2)

  White (Black #3)

  Distrust (Smirnov Bratva #1)

  Disbelief (Smirnov Bratva #2)

  Defiance (Smirnov Bratva #3)

  Lovesick (Standalone)

  Savage Collision (A Savage Love Duet book 1)

  Dear Reader,

  This book is a work of fiction, and some situations have been embellished for your enjoyment. With this in mind, if you have been affected by matters that are discussed in this book then please contact:

  The Samaritans USA - 135 247

  The Samaritans UK - 116 123

  Lifeline Australia 13 11 14

  I hope you enjoy.

  T.L Smith

  Dedication

  To my street team, I adore you girls. Thank you for all that you do.

  Prologue

  I don’t know how my life came to be what it is today. I don’t even remember the precise moment it happened. I guess it was all small snippets leading up to one big moment. Pieces I should have put together, bit by bit.

  Remembering, though, is the hard part. How can you remember something you’re not trained to or even designed to remember?

  I think I saw him in my dreams, or was it a reality? I don’t really know.

  The moment I met him I felt comfort, which is anything but who I am. Yet, I opened every door I had for him like it was child’s play.

  Maybe it was for him, all this, all of us. Maybe it was all a game to him. It all felt real, and at times too much to deal with. Yet, I wouldn’t trade any of it.

  Despite how it all happened, despite how it all went down, I would go down for him again just to have those moments, those touches. Even if in the end they were replaced by stabs, nicks, cracked hearts, they all led me to the one spot, to him.

  He doesn’t know it, but I know it. Behind what he hides from the world, he is loveable. Despite what I hide from the world, I am also.

  My past won’t define me, I won’t let it anymore. It held me tight like a prisoner for too long, and now it’s time to break the shackles.

  I wonder if I can break his as well.

  If I can take him with me.

  Somehow, somewhere, we should deserve what others have, even if we are both tormented, even if we both hold evil.

  We deserve it too, on some level at least, don’t we?

  Chapter 1

  My fingernails click rapidly on the table, this needs to go fast. It’s taking too long. I shouldn’t have agreed to meet here. Why did I? To prove something? I’m not even sure. The cell phone which I hardly ever use sits in my bag next to me, and I feel it vibrate through my chair. Leaning down, I pick it up and see a message from Marina telling me she’s going to be late. Dropping my phone into my lap and collapsing back into my chair, I wonder if I should just get up and leave and forget about it all—probably not.

  “Is this seat taken?” His voice sounds rich and sensual to my ears. My head shoots up from looking down at my cell, and a man that’s unlike any other stands in front of me. My eyes fling quickly around making sure he’s talking to me, and when I look back to him, he seems to be growing impatient. Marina is going to be exactly thirty-minutes late, if he wasn’t gone by then I could just move? Nodding my head, I watch as he takes the seat out and sits in front of me. I look away figuring he’s waiting on coffee, or maybe he’s waiting on someone, or maybe he just came from a function since he’s dressed the way he is. Looking back down at my cell, I debate telling her I don’t have time. She would know it’s a lie though. I’m starting to tap out my reply when t
he stranger’s voice breaks through.

  “Are you waiting on someone?”

  Looking up, I see his elbows are on the table and he’s leaning in, staring at me. I can’t look for long, his stare is too intense. His eyes are positioned on me and I have to look away without picking up the color. Are they violet? I’m not sure.

  “Yes,” I answer him, the words leaving my mouth as I look down at his closed hands in the middle of the table. They’re strong, that much is obvious.

  “Tell me something… why here?”

  My eyes stay downcast as I contemplate his words. And if I should or shouldn’t answer him. I prefer not to speak to people in general. Having someone get too close scares me. Yet, here’s a stranger who I know I won’t see again, so instead, I humor that side of me.

  “She prefers me to be social,” I scoff.

  “You aren’t social?” he asks, his eyebrows lifted in an ‘I’m interested’ stare.

  Looking up now so I can stare at him, I wonder if he does this a lot—talk to strangers. I’m sure most girls would love it, especially by the looks of him. He’s beyond good-looking, more so than any other man I’ve seen. He lifts his hand and smooths through his black hair, I want to touch it too.

  “I don’t like people.” I say, distracting myself from my thoughts.

  “Yet, here you sit, talking to me… a person.” He waves his hand at me and smirks. There’s something so serious about him, so intense, that you can’t stare at him for long. His eyes—

  I pick up on the color now—they’re violet, with flecks of gray. They’re intense, which matches all of him. My eyes drop again, and l look down at my fingers that are still tapping on the table.

  “I expect to never see you again.” Looking up, I watch for his reaction to my answer. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not someone who hides away from life—well, perhaps partially I do. I speak to people, mainly men when I want something. But even then I don’t need to talk much. Basically, my body does all the talking from then on out.

  Except right at this moment, I know I can’t do that. No matter how stunning this man is, no matter how much I want this stranger. Because that’s all they ever are—strangers.

  I have to sit here and wait for her. She’s had this booked for months. And even though it isn’t a social thing, even though we’re not friends, I do what she says because she’s always wanted what’s best for me.

  “Never? You sound so sure.”

  Nodding my head, he tips his.

  “So if I wanted to see you again, you’d say no?”

  I can’t speak because if I do I know I won’t say no. I would absolutely say yes. So, instead, I nod my head to tell him no simply by agreeing with him. Words aren’t safe right now.

  “Interesting…” His fingers drum on the table in front of him.

  A waiter comes around and asks for our order. I look to him expecting him to say he’s already ordered. So, when he asks for a coffee, I’m shocked. He orders mine as well, then the waitress looks back one more time before she walks away.

  “You chose to sit here without ordering first?” I state the facts.

  His eyebrow perks up. “I did. You interest me.”

  I tuck a loose strand of hair that falls from my ponytail behind my ear as I look up, ready to answer him. “I’m far from interesting.”

  “I beg to differ. I think there’s something… very intriguing… very interesting about you.” He’s leaning in again, and I can smell him more so now. All thoughts of my appointment leave my brain as I take him in again. It’s unfair for a man to have those long eyelashes fanning over those gorgeous colored eyes.

  “I’m very boring. I work, I go home… that’s the extent of my life.”

  He nods his head and sits up as the waitress places our drinks in front of us. He doesn’t thank or even look at her. He picks up his drink and places it to his lips then positions it back down on the table. Lifting his wrist, he looks at the time, which makes me remember I have Marina coming soon.

  Looking down to check my cell, I see a text message from Marina, and when I look back up, he’s gone. A twenty-dollar note is on the table and the sexy stranger has vanished. I take a sip of my coffee and I’m surprised when it’s exactly what I like. Just as I’m about to get up and leave, Marina sits down in the exact same place he was sitting. She’s out of breath and her chest is heaving heavily. Marina is young, maybe a few years older than me, and is gorgeous. I often wonder why she chooses to do what she does, but I never question her.

  “I’m so sorry…” she trails off, her breathing labored as she tries to catch her breath. She grabs a notepad, pulls it out and starts to write.

  Sitting back in my chair, I prepare for her questions that I know will come.

  “Tell me, Milanka, how have you been since I saw you six months ago?”

  It always starts this way. She’s always polite and never straight to the point. I think it’s the reason I started treatment with her in the first place. She feels safe, from all the evil.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary…”

  Apart from the stranger. A stranger so delicious I’m sure he’s made of chocolate, I think to myself. Where did he go?

  “No episodes as of late?”

  I shake my head in answer.

  “That’s good, I’m so glad to hear that.”

  I nod my head once and listen to the rest of her questions. Hopefully, it will be another long period of time before I have to see her again. I try to forget about my disability, to place it away in a box, away from my brain so I don’t focus on it. It doesn’t affect my everyday life at all, it just has to be maintained in a way.

  My worst and the most serious episode was when I was eighteen. It was the first time I met Marina who then started acting as my therapist. She goes above and beyond for me, and that’s why I don’t mind waiting when she tells me she’s going to be late. I’ve yet to tell her about my extracurricular activities. I’m too ashamed to talk about them, but I am living a normal life to the best of my ability.

  But then the past plays tricks on me and holds me in its vice grip.

  I always try to pinpoint that moment. That precise time when everything changed.

  Was it the night I lost my virginity?

  Or was it the first time I let a man treat me less than my worth?

  I don’t know, but I do know my mother has a lot to do with it. It’s always them, isn’t it? They shape us into the person we are today, and she did that without any thought of me whatsoever. I’ve never once seen a motherly side to her, never once felt her love.

  Then it was the same with the man who stole my firsts—he took it all based on lies and hidden faces.

  It shapes you into what you become.

  To what you will be.

  Then once you’re shaped into that person, no one can help you, because you are well and truly fucked, just as I am right now.

  Sixteen Years Old

  Another day that dragged, and one I thought would never end. School was, as it always was for me, a nightmare within a nightmare. Today though, I had a boy show me interest. A boy that was the most popular in school. I wasn’t sure what to do with that interest, so I walked away.

  Heading down the dirt road toward my trailer after being all day at school, I flinched, as the shoes I was wearing are too small and hurt my toes. I tried not to complain, it got me nowhere. Sometimes I thought, perhaps I should become a thief, that would be more helpful than the person who was supposed to care for me.

  A car was parked out front of the trailer—an old and expensive red Corvette. Well, anything that drove was expensive to me. We’d never had a car because we didn’t have the money to run one, let alone purchase one. Being used to her men always being over, I knew I needed to move fast—get in, change, steal a pair of her shoes to get out of my uncomfortable ones, and get the hell out.

  The first step I took up onto the old beat-up trailer creaked loudly, under my old hole-ridden shoes. I winced a
t the noise hoping they wouldn’t hear me. Pacing my next step a little slower, I turned the doorknob, releasing and opening the door. It was never locked because there was nothing to steal. Hearing sounds as soon as I opened the door, I contemplated just dropping my bag and leaving. That was until I looked down at my raggedy shoes and knew I had to change them because I wouldn’t get far otherwise, the pain being too much to handle.

  Taking another step inside the trailer, I was hit with the pungent smell straight away—smoke and alcohol dulled my senses. Covering my nose and mouth with my hand, I kicked off my shoes and moved some of my mother’s discarded clothes on the floor trying to find the flip flops I knew she had lying around. Not seeing them anywhere, I got on my hands and knees to look under the dirty old brown couch, hoping she’d kicked them off and left them there. I was not going anywhere near that bedroom of hers to find them.

  Sliding my hand underneath, I could feel one and I silently cheered when my hand clasped on pulling the flip flops free. I stood, and the minute I did I regretted walking in and looking for them, I regretted even stepping in here knowing she had company. He was standing with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, and his eyes were roaming me up and down like I was his next meal. I’d seen him before around town, though never knew who he was, or even cared enough to notice much other than he was the father to one of the girls my age at school. His shirt was off revealing his hairy chest, and his pants were undone. I dared not look down, but I clung to those stupid flip flops like they were my lifeline.

  Why must I be so stupid?

  “You look so much like her,” he slurred taking a step toward me. I immediately took a step back, hoping he didn’t move too much. He was almost at the door where I needed to make my escape, and I knew he would block my way from making that escape easily. My eyes skimmed the floor and up the wall to the exit, his eyes watched me too closely. “I see what you’re thinking, little one,” he teased, stepping the way I was hoping he wouldn’t, and effectively blocked my way out.

  “I was just leaving,” I said to him, hoping he’d let me go. He put the bottle to his lips and sucked hard, almost finishing the contents. Then he took another step, so he was closer to me—too close. His free hand reached up and I knew he was coming for me. My eyes searched behind him, hoping my mother would come out, but I knew she wouldn’t. She’d be passed out or drinking herself into oblivion until she was out cold and not caring that she left a man in our home with her teenage daughter.