Savage Road (Torpedo Ink 7) - Page 142

It was a shit day as far as Savage was concerned, but for one thing. His woman. The tiny RV stunk of feces, urine and blood. Death definitely had a stench. It permeated the small RV, getting into the barrier-covered walls, the soundproofing on the ceiling and same on the floor. It didn’t matter how many times he showered, he couldn’t scrub the smell off of him.

He went up front into the cab and shoved the slider into place, separating himself from the next asshole he had to question, giving himself a brief respite. All he wanted to do was get back to his woman. What the fuck was wrong with so many brothers willing to turn on their kind? He didn’t get it. He would never get it.

Babe. You missing me?

Why would I be missing you? I have a good book, a comfortable chair and my booty doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m also eating all the chips.

Damn, she made him smile. The woman had attitude. Stay away from my chips. I can’t eat sandwiches without them.

Don’t be such a baby. You can, you just don’t want to.

I need the chips, woman. He sent growling emojis. He knew they would make her laugh.

Fine, I’ll leave crumbs. And not the barbecue. Those are my favorite. She sent licking emojis. Just not the crumbs of the barbecue chips. I’m licking those right up. Yum.

Angel. He sent angel wings and halos to remind her she was sweet.

Fallen angel. She sent an angel with broken wings crashing to earth on his butt.

Savage glanced sideways at Maestro, who hadn’t said a single word. “You okay?”

“We’re not getting much. At least not what we want. Nothing about Czar and the Russian woman.”

“No, but we have identified the men who were going to kill Plank, Shark, Lion, Pierce and Judge. And the one who was after Jeff Partridge, president of the Venomous club and four of his inner circle. They really were planning to wipe out several clubs here. We’re still looking for the hit men with our names. Shit work though.” Savage glanced down at his phone again.

“Who do you have on Seychelle?”

“Czar is with her. We have to keep him safe too. He’s too smart to go wandering around. Alena and Keys are with Code nearby. I’m trying to make things look casual to her. She knows, but I don’t want to ram it down her throat.”

Maestro glanced at his watch. “Destroyer back there doing his thing?”

Savage nodded. “He does good work. Keeps them alive until they give us what we need to know. That’s damn hard to do.” He looked around the front of the RV. “I hate this fucking thing. I can’t breathe in it.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Maestro agreed. “Anyone any closer to figuring out the Demon informer angle with the Feds? It would be nice to know who the fuckin’ Fed is. Or how many they have here.”

“Not so far. We have eyes on them and are ready to intercept,” Savage reported. His phone vibrated. He pulled it out to look at the text message from his woman. The smile faded. It wasn’t from her. It was from Czar. “Fuckin’ Plank sent a few of his men with a ‘couple of women’ for Seychelle to check out. Like she’s his fucking property.”

He texted Czar back. This is bullshit. Plank can’t just treat her like his servant, Czar. We have to put a stop to this. Not only that, it’s draining on her, but also dangerous. If someone is sick, she could get sick. Libby Drake told me she takes on the illness.

I’m well aware he’s overstepping, and I told Judge that. Tried to send them packing, but his old lady, Theresa, started sobbing and your tenderhearted woman gave in instantly. She told me she’d take a look. What was I going to say then?

You overrule that shit. Damn it. Savage glared at his screen as he texted his woman. She had far too much compassion in her for everyone. You tell Theresa you can’t help her until I get there. Tell her she can just take her ass and go back to the Diamondback campsite. If you’re feeling sorry for her, think about what she and Tawny did to Alena.

He waited, staring at the screen. Waiting. Wanting to throw the damn thing.

“You having trouble with your woman, Savage?” Maestro asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“If she was standing in front of me right now, she’d be smiling that sweet smile of hers like she’d do just about anything I said, but she’d just do whatever the fuck she wanted.”

“You ever think of punishing her?” Maestro asked.

“Hell yes. Considering the fact I enjoy that shit, I’d say it happens more often than not. It doesn’t do a damn bit of good if she decides she wants to do something. You have no idea what she’s like. She looks all innocent and sweet, and really, I suppose she is, but she doesn’t obey worth shit.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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