Savage Ending (Savage Trilogy 4)

“This wasn’t your fault. I see that in your eyes, Rick Savage. The blame, so much blame. You need to stop. It’s not good for us. It’s not good for you.”

My lips press together. “It’s the truth.”

“It’s not the truth.”

My cellphone rings. She inhales and releases me, turning away, obviously aware that I need to take just about any call headed in my direction right now. In this case, it’s Blake.

“Yeah, boss,” I answer. “What’s up?”

“A fuck show, from what I hear. How’s Candace?”

“She needs stitches, pain meds, and antibiotics, but she’s alive.”

“And Adam? She told me he was hit pretty bad.”

“I knocked him out, pulled out the bullet, and stitched him up, but he was bleeding like a motherfucker. I had EMS take him in for a scan. He’ll be pissed as shit but alive.” I pause. “He saved her life. No fucking doubt about it. Any word from Lucifer?”

“He warned me he was going silent. He’s on Max’s trail. He’ll find him. He’ll bring him in and Max will go to jail for this. Let him and me handle this.”

“Fuck jail for Max. That’s not how this ends. Pull your people back.”

“Don’t go down the bullshit path, Savage. My people are your people.”

“Not if that’s how you think this ends. Consider this my resignation. I’m done, Blake.” I hang up.

“What just happened?” Candace demands, grabbing my arm. “Rick, what just happened?”

“What was necessary,” I say tightly. “I didn’t belong with Walker anyway. My ways are not their ways.”

“You know that’s not true,” she says. “You’re responding to and with anger.”

“Damn straight,” I confirm and my phone starts ringing again.

Of course, it’s Blake again, and I decline the call and ignore the buzz of text messages that follow. I dial Lucifer. He doesn’t answer. I leave him a message. “I need to talk to you now. Call me.”

The car halts in front of the hotel. I slide my phone into my pocket and concentrate on what matters right now. Taking care of Candace. Revenge and retribution will come next.

I help her out of the car and wrap my arm around her, holding her close. I obviously didn’t do that well enough earlier today. I walked away from her. I had a gut feeling and I still walked away.

Once we’re on the elevator, Candace says, “Don’t let this take you to a bad place, Rick.”

“If me making the person who did this pay is me in a bad place, we have a problem. I never promised to be anything but who I am. And this is who I am, Candace.”

The elevator halts. I catch her hand and walk her to me, staring down at her. “You know I have to—”

“That’s just it,” she says. “I do know. I know you. I know what you intend to do. I know. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I know how to do what I do. You need to trust me.” That’s where I leave the conversation. The elevator doors open and I wrap my arm around her and guide her out of the car and into the hallway, steadying her and sheltering her every way I can. It’s all too little, too late, and I know that, too. I won’t make that mistake again. Nothing she says is going to change my mind about what comes next. Max is as good as dead.

Once we’re inside the room, I hold up a hand and have her wait just inside the door while I ensure we’re secure. When I’m comfortable we’re safe, I have her sit on a lounge chair, prop pillows beneath her, and then grab towels, hot water, my own medical bag, and the vet’s supplies and go down on a knee beside her. With her arm on top of towels and propped on the armrest, I grab the numbing agent. “I’m going to put some extra in to make sure you don’t feel the stitches.”

She nods and I get to work.

She’s tough, and way too quiet through the entire process, but then, she’s coming down off a hell of a rush of adrenaline.

Fifteen minutes later, she’s stitched up, and I’m comfortable with how she’ll heal. “You rest,” I say. “I’m going to call and check on Adam.”

Instead of resting, she shifts to a full sitting position, reaching for her purse at her hip, and struggling to open it as she asks, “Should I try Lucifer?”

I walk to the chair beside her, sit down and reach over her, pulling her phone from her purse. Since I’ve made sure she has every Walker number under the sun in her phone, it’s not hard to location Lucifer’s number. I press the phone into her hand, tension crackling between us, which does nothing to mute how damn in love we are.

“Yes,” I say because I know Candace. Actively working toward a solution helps her feel she has some semblance of control. “Call him,” I add, punching the call button for her and standing up to dial the hospital.