Savage Collision (A Savage Love Duet #1) Page 4

  I went home, that was how it started.

  It was always how it started, wasn’t it?

  The young innocent girl on her way home from school and boom, she was taken, kidnapped.

  In this dream, though, I went home with the red Corvette sitting out front of my mother’s trailer. Knowing I shouldn’t go in or wanting to even go in. But it didn’t stop the man standing next to me telling me to go in. I let him in. I let him choose tonight to see if he was good, if he would keep me safe. It was a risk. I knew that it would either scar me even more or kill me in the process.

  The man that was in our house was not a good man. He smelled of evil and was evil. His hands had touched me before, of which he had no right. Just because of who my mother was, that did not give a stranger the right to touch me.

  “Do it, Milanka. Move.”

  Putting one foot in front of the other was torturous. It was a battle of my will. I was technically fighting my instincts that always told me to never enter that house. Yet, here I was listening to a man whose name I didn’t even know, and who had stalked me for days, listening to him when he told me to go somewhere I knew was not safe.

  “Shut up,” I hissed at him as my foot made contact with the first rickety step. It creaked as I knew it would under my weight. Then the second step did the same. Pulling the door open, I could smell everything before I saw anything. Smoke gushed out, and everything smelled of sex and drugs. The television was on and it was loud.

  The smoke started to clear and I spotted him straight away. He had on no shirt, and his belly was rotund as he sat on our old couch. Looking around, I couldn’t see her anywhere, she was most likely passed out in her bedroom, as per usual.

  He turned when he heard me enter. Shutting the door behind me, I tried to stand tall with my devil slash stranger beside me. He hissed at the old man looking me over.

  “Scum,” he hissed again.

  I couldn’t have agreed more—he was that and more.

  “You came back, girl. Wanting what I give your momma, ha?”

  I didn’t even answer him, there was no point. He made his way over to me, and I watched in horror as one hand outstretched and came toward me.

  “I bet you taste better than her.”

  I wanted to come back with a snarky comment but I wasn’t myself. Standing still and watching him was the best I could do right now.

  “I’ve been waiting years to see you again.”

  I had avoided him all this time, never entering my house when his car was parked out front. His hand clasped my breast through my sweater, it touched and rubbed, and I wanted to throw up straight away. Instead, the man next to me hissed in my ear. He hated this man more than he hated me when I didn’t listen to him.

  “Move your hand, Milanka. Grab the cold piece of metal.”

  It took me a moment to process, and to be able to move, as I felt the man’s heavy breath panting on me. My hand grasped a handle on the counter, then the devil slash stranger laughed when I realized what I had in my hand—a knife.

  Then the devil slash stranger disappeared, leaving me with a man touching me and a knife in my hand.

  His other hand came up and touched my other breast, I knew then I couldn’t take any more of it. That it was the last straw. I drew the knife upward, from the side of my leg and pulled it in between us, then I smiled a sinister smile as I stabbed it straight into his belly. His hands let me go straight away, and he dropped backward.

  Feeling the power, I laughed when he dropped his hand on the wound that was now dripping blood, and his eyes looking at me like I was crazy. Maybe it was because I still heard my devil slash stranger laughing in my head. He was enjoying it, even if I couldn’t see him anymore.

  This was what he wanted… for me to snap and do the unthinkable.

  Well, I did, and now I wanted to do more.

  Jumbled words left his mouth as he lay on the floor holding onto his stomach. I sat down next to him with the knife in my hand and started speaking to him.

  “I don’t like you. I think that’s obvious.”

  He grunted and cried out in pain as he tried to move.

  “I think you’re revolting, disgusting… the lowest of the low.”

  Turning, so I was closer to him. “I want to make you bleed. I want to hear you scream.”

  I remembered the look of satisfaction that had appeared on his face, that first day, when he saw my discomfort, and the horror when he touched me. He got off on it. I didn’t. This, though, would be interesting and I would enjoy it.

  He tried to push away, to move away from me, but I just placed my hand on his, the ones covering the wounds and pressed hard.

  “He’s telling me where to stab. He’s telling me where it will hurt the most…” I leaned in closer. “Do you want to know what he’s saying?”

  He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I hadn’t. I could see clearly and understood my devil slash stranger even though I couldn’t see him. Raising the knife, I looked one last time at the man who didn’t deserve to hurt anyone else—he would never again frighten or scare me—and I plunged it into his leg, right next to his groin.

  He would die slowly as the blood gradually dropped out and left his body, and I knew that my mother wouldn’t wake up before he was dead. She was basically dead to the world and would be for the next day or even two, depending what she took and how much she had ingested.

  He started to scream, and just as I was about to cover his mouth, the door to my trailer opened, and standing there staring at me was Derrick.

  In that exact moment, my devil slash stranger was back, and he didn’t look at all pleased that Derrick was there, and neither was I.

  Why was he there?

  He shouldn’t have been there. Has he come to collect me?

  Usually, I was at his house every day and never want to leave. Today, I didn’t even tell him I wouldn’t be there. Maybe that was why he was looking at me with such wide eyes? He closed the door straight away and stepped inside. Derrick looked down to my hands then back to me, then to the man.

  “Who’s this, Mil?”

  I hated that name, only he called me that.

  “You should go. Go now,” my devil slash stranger was screaming at me to tell him so. And I did, because I didn’t want him here either, I wanted to hear this man’s last breath all by myself.

  Derrick stepped closer then leaned down, so he was at eye-level with me. “I think, I love you, Mil.” There was so much happiness in his voice in that moment. It made me smile because I had been failing for years to try to make him that happy. Even after everything I did for him, none of it made him smile at me like that. He reached out and took the knife from my hand then turned off all the lights. Grabbing his phone and using the light from it, Derrick turned to the man on the floor as he cried softly, and I knew he would die and Derrick wouldn’t stop that either. He would let him die as well.

  “Start a fire, Mil, and throw your clothes on it.”

  “My mother,” I said looking back.

  He stood and walked into her shit room, picked her drunken ass up and carried her outside. He came back in and looked me over as I didn’t move.

  “Lose the clothes, Mil.” I didn’t do as he said, because when I did lose my clothes it involved sex. Sex was not what I wanted right now. He removed his shirt showing his perfect abs, and threw it down to me. “I’m your alibi, Mil. Now change.”

  Standing up, I pulled my sweater over my head and threw it to the floor, it landed on the man’s face and he didn’t even bother moving it. The knife clinked as it dropped from my hand and hit the floor, and I didn’t even look down for it.

  Changing, I do it fast, and once I was dressed in only Derrick’s shirt, I noticed Derrick had the knife and was sliding it into his pants. The devil slash stranger was telling me not to go with Derrick, that I shouldn’t go anywhere with this man.

  I didn’t listen.

  I should have listened.

  Waking in a swea
t, I scrub my face with my hands. The doctor told me it was just a dream and that I shouldn’t remember the episodes, but it all feels so real, like every word and everything that happened I remember vividly.

  It’s been over five years since I was treated. I live a steady life now, a normal life to the best of my abilities. But I’m worried that my bed stranger may shake things up again.

  I’m hoping my demons don’t come back.

  I’m hoping that I don’t get hurt so badly that they stir and make another appearance.

  It’s always a trigger, isn’t it?

  Chapter 6

  It’s been over a week since I last saw my bed stranger. The man whose name I don’t even know, and yet he knew exactly where I lived and even guessed that my name was false. I think about him often, especially about how stupid I was to let him into my house at all. I don’t know why I did it.

  He’s still such a mystery to me that, hopefully, I will never have to deal with again. Because believe it or not, no matter how much I enjoyed him or even had the best sex of my life, I don’t want to see him again. I don’t like the way my guard is down around him. Plus, I don’t ever want to see any of the men I sleep with ever again.

  No ifs or buts about it. It’s my rule that I haven’t broken in a very long time, and never plan to again.

  Today was just like any other day. I spot Serena working the floor as soon I walk in. I sigh with relief knowing that means I’ll probably be working behind the bar tonight. Not one of my six shifts has had me working the floor, for which I’m thankful.

  It’s not too late in the day. The sun still filters light through to the bar, and patrons are slowly wandering in after finishing work.

  Serena smiles big when sees me, her teeth as white as the walls, a pixie cut too gorgeous to miss, and with a figure I could only wish for after carrying children. Serena never speaks of the kids’ father, and I don’t think it’s my place to ask about that situation either. As I step up closer to her, she offers me my apron and leans in for a one arm hug as she always does. I smile at her as I pull back, grabbing the apron and wrapping it around my waist.

  “Busy?” I ask, looking around.

  She shakes her head before she answers me. “No, surprisingly it’s been steady.” Her hands start moving again as she cleans some of the glasses. “I had someone in here…” she looks around then back to me, “… he’s gone. But he asked for you by name.” Serena shrugs her shoulders as her attention diverts back to cleaning.

  Picking up a cloth, I start wiping down the bar. “What did he look like?” I ask.

  She doesn’t look at me as she answers, “Dark and sexy,” is all she says.

  I only know one dark and sexy man, the one from a week ago that I let in way too far. Not asking any more questions, I start cleaning again, trying not to think of him and why he was even here. Why he came back. Because I should care why. I don’t want him back. Especially, when he knows as much as he does—where I live, my real name—and I’m afraid that if he asks for more I will give it to him, I won’t be able to help myself.

  ***

  It’s dark when I arrive back home, my keys are positioned in my fingers ready to open the door. When I step up to my front door, I notice a bouquet of white lilies. I pick them up, turn and throw them as far as possible away from me. They scare me, terrify me, and I don’t want them anywhere near me. My breathing becomes erratic and my vision becomes blurred. Too much anger taking hold of me, as well as fear.

  “Admirer?” a voice startles me.

  I jump back, placing my hand to my erratically beating heart as it smashes out an uncontrolled rhythm. He’s in the shadows of the night, but I know who it is because of his gravelly penetrating voice—it's dark, just as it was that night I met him. I squint my eyes in an attempt to see him better, with no luck. So, I turn to unlock my house to get away from him—him being here cannot be a good sign.

  Why was I so stupid as to let him in, in the first place?

  “You can’t come in,” I state, not even bothering to look at him.

  Hearing his footsteps come closer as I unlock the door scares me.

  “I don’t plan to. I want to take you out, possibly for a late dinner,” he says.

  I turn so I can face him, and realize it was a mistake the minute I do so. I should have stayed exactly where I was—unlocking my door and running inside to get as far away from him as possible. As I look up, his violet eyes and his perfect cheekbones and jaw structure stupefy me, and it immediately makes me want to invite him in.

  God damn it! I want him to fuck me again.

  Knowing what I’m about to do, I don’t step foot inside the house. Instead, I throw my bag through the door keeping my keys on me and shut the door, locking it again.

  “I haven’t eaten,” I tell him.

  He nods his head and places the palm of his very large hand on my back to guide me away. We start walking, and at first, I think he’s about to take my keys and drive again because that’s what he’d done last time. But instead, he doesn’t veer in the direction of my car. A sleek black Mercedes is parked on the road. He clicks a button on his keys, unlocking it, and opens the passenger door.

  “Did you steal this?” I joke with him.

  When I don’t get an answer, I turn to see him watching me. His lip quirks up as his head slightly drops to the side.

  “Possibly. Now get in.”

  I’m not sure if he’s telling me the truth or not. I hope he didn’t steal it, and he isn’t making me get into a stolen car. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been in them before, I guess, but I thought he was different to the men I grew up around. They all seem to wear masks and are experts at hiding themselves.

  I walk past him while he holds the car door open and step into the car. He shuts it behind me, and my hands come together in the middle of my lap waiting for him to slide in. His car is impossibly clean, it smells as though it was just driven from a car dealership. It’s way too pretty for me to be sitting in it.

  Looking straight ahead, I watch as he takes us out to the highway, then a few minutes later, takes an exit. He continues to drive past the city to the outer suburbs, where he comes to a stop at what I can only guess is a closed building. He doesn’t say anything as he steps out and walks around to my side of the car, opens the door, and waits for me to get out as well.

  I’m still dressed in my black slacks and black T-shirt, nothing fancy and very boring, though when I look around there’s nothing fancy here at all. He takes hold of my sweaty hand and starts to walk. It’s like he knows if he speaks too much he may spook me, and I will run the other way.

  We arrive at a large silver barn-style door, and he knocks three times. The door is pulled open by a larger man, not as large as him but could rival him I’m sure. He walks in with me still attached to his hand and stops again at another door. He doesn’t knock on this one, just pulls it open and walks in.

  Lights are bright, tables are set around the open area, and people are seated. I glance up to him as he looks around and finds what he’s searching for, then starts to pull me in that direction yet again. As we walk past a table, I take a closer look at it. It’s occupied by a lady and a man, both are dressed strangely. Leather for him with a black vest and black pants. She, on the other hand, is wearing nothing but nipple pasties I look away then look again, not believing what I’m seeing.

  She’s basically naked eating her food?

  No, she is… she is naked.

  What kind of restaurant is this?

  More observantly, I look around at the other tables and see they’re all dressed very unusually. No one is dressed as if they’re at a restaurant, yet they all have food in front of them.

  He stops, and I slam into his back, too preoccupied looking around. He grunts at me as I take a step back, averting my eyes from everyone else, and notice we don’t have a table like everyone else in the open. Instead, we’re in a corner booth which is very hidden.

  He takes a s
eat and pulls me down to sit next to him. We are sitting right next to each other with our thighs touching. I don’t look at him, my eyes are still glued to the people all around us. Just before I can turn to ask him what kind of place this is, food is placed down in front of us, and not ordinary food that you’d be served at a bar. No, this is five star, the same types of food served that you’d see in movies. My plate is large and white, it looks so empty apart from the single serving of steak sitting in the middle placed on top a bed of potatoes. The sauce is drizzled over it perfectly, making it look like some sort of masterpiece painting.

  He doesn’t give me any words as he lifts his knife and starts cutting his steak. So, I do the same, unsure of what’s going on, but hungry because I haven’t eaten since ten this morning. The first bite is delicious and I moan into my mouth.

  Holy shit! Who knew steak could taste this good?

  I wonder what this all costs.

  “How much is this?” I turn to ask him, his eyes are already on me observing me eat. His violet eyes stare at me, as he watches my mouth while finishing the last bite.

  “Two-hundred dollars,” he answers matter-of-factly.

  If I hadn’t finished that piece of steak, I would have choked on it. Placing my knife and fork back down, I decide I will not eat anymore. Especially not considering that it has cost more than my grocery bill for the whole month—that’s ridiculous.

  “Are you rich?” I ask him.

  He doesn’t touch his steak again as he sits back further into his seat so he can see me even better. I have to turn my head slightly to see him more clearly. His eyes feel too much, so I look away and around the room again. People are starting to stand, the men are beginning to strip. Turning back to him, his eyes on me and I wonder if he knows what’s happening.

  “Where are we?” I ask, staring at him and not looking away this time. His perfect eyebrows are scrunched as he watches me carefully.

  “Dinner,” he states, looking around then coming back to stop on me. “You’re overdressed, though,” he says with his hand coming down on my thigh. I look at it then back to him, he’s watching me as always. “So, let’s change that.” He nods for me to stand.