Savage Savior (Savage People 3)

“Your step-dad is such a badass.” Jade sighs, stars in her eyes.

“He is not really my step-dad,” I groan, wrinkling my nose. “He’s just a man my mom married for money.”

Yeah. And he married her for the Green Card.

See, Graham is Irish, thirty-two—fifteen years younger than mom—and shady as fuck. He is wealthy, very much so, but no amount of money in the world is going to make the fact that he’s already been arrested twice in the States go away. That means he is not qualified for a business visa, which is why three years ago, he dragged my mom from the strip club she’s been working in—his strip club, by the way—and offered her the deal of her life. They’ve never touched each other, Graham and mom. I know that for a fact because it wasn’t for lack of trying on Annabelle Savage’s part. But Graham looks like the kind of dude who has standards, unfortunately for my mom.

“Whatever he is, if I had the chance, I’d screw your step-dad so hard, I wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. Sorry, honey, I know it sounds sick, but….” Jade gives a little shrug, and I roll my eyes, snatching the alcohol menu from under an elbow that belongs to a random guy who has his back to me.

He turns around when he notices, studying me intently.

“Sorry.” I flush red under the heavy layer of makeup I had applied earlier tonight. “I thought you were done with the menu.”

“I am.” He flashes a crooked smile. He is not ugly, but he is totally pushing forty. And not in the same way Graham does. This dude looks…tired. “Let me buy you that drink, princess.”

Princess?

“Oh!” I lean back, letting out a frustrated breath. I’m not above considering a one-night stand, but this guy doesn’t look like he’s worth the self-loathing that comes with feeling like a slut for losing my V-card to some random the next morning. I don’t want to use him or lead him on, so I smile politely. “That’s okay, we’re good.”

“I didn’t realize you have company.” His bland brown eyes move to Jade, undressing her down to her lacey little thong. “Let me buy both of your drinks. I’m George.”

I open my mouth with every intention to turn him down again, but Jade interjects quickly. “I’ll have a gin and tonic and she’ll have a Blue Moon.”

I flash Jade a “nice going, bitch” glare, because I don’t want the guy to turn around and strike up small talk with us—which is exactly what he’s doing, by the way—but it’s too late. We’re in their debt and now we have to mingle. The guy’s friend, another man who looks to be in his forties, with a leather jacket and oily hair, pushes himself between Jade and I and introduces himself as Marco. They tell us—well, more like shout over the loud music—they’re Italians from Jersey. Awesome. We went all the way from preppy Princeton to Williamsburg to bump into Jersey boys. Ha ha, fate. Nice one. I turn my head back to the bar, exasperated, and when my gaze lands on the second floor, I freeze.

Shit.

It’s him.

Graham was not supposed to be here tonight. Even worse, he wasn’t supposed to see me.

It’s Saturday and we’re in Williamsburg. He usually takes care of his high profile, Manhattan joints on Saturday nights. Sometimes he doesn’t even come back home the next day. But he’s here now, leaning against the bannisters in his sharp, tailored suit, his eyes burning holes into my forehead. He doesn’t look pissed, because Graham is incapable of feelings, I suspect, but I know that he’s not happy to see me here. I’m not twenty-one yet, and I sneaked out of the house and all the way to New York to party…and I have a Blue Moon in my hand.

Shit, shit, shit. Did I mention shit?

I grab Jade’s wrist, my eyes still locked in a stare-down with my step-dad. Suddenly, it feels like he really is my step-dad. He oozes authority, and not just because of his money and position. There’s something formidable about a man who is six-two of power in an Armani suit, and the fact that he is good-looking only highlights his authority over everyone around him. He isn’t a pretty boy, but he is hot in an Irish, rough and dark way. With raven black hair, dark green eyes and stubble peppering his high cheekbones. His lips are thin and pink and I know that behind that suit is a man with a body to die for. His personal trainer wakes me up every day at 6 a.m. sharp when he yells at him to punch that bag harder in our indoor gym.

“We need to go,” I croak, my throat desert-dry. Oh God, he keeps staring at me, but he hasn’t moved an inch. I think I saw his flexed jaw ticking once when I reached for the Blue Moon, but who can tell? It’s dark and everyone is covered in a cloud of cigarette and weed smoke. There’s a veil of white mist between us, and I’m hoping it’d help me escape this place easily.

“Are you kidding me? We just got here!” Jade is already flirting with the guys who bought us drinks, swiveling her seat back and forth.

I turn her stool around so she faces me, my eyes finally disconnecting from Graham’s.

“My dad is here,” I growl.

“Your dad? Owen? Isn’t he in jail?” she asks dumbly.

Christ.

“My step-dad,” I clarify, cocking my head upwards, my eyebrows arched.

Her eyes travel up and I don’t need to ask if she saw him, because the minute she does, she exhales loudly like he’d just shoved two fingers into her. I swear she moans a little when she sees him.

I know it’s ridiculous, to run away when I’d clearly been caught sneaking into a club on a Saturday night. I’m a couple weeks shy of turning eighteen, and Graham knows it. We don’t exactly talk too much but he is scary as hell. I don’t wanna know what he’d do when it comes to me. He might be forgiving toward other women who sneak in here before they turn twenty-one, but me…I’m his family. Sort of.

After a round of quick apologies to the guidos we bumped into, Jade and I are running for the door, hand in hand. I just want to get out of this place. Once out, I’ll get the first taxi back to New Jersey. When, not if, Graham confronts me, I’ll just deny everything. I’m not the first blonde-haired blue-eyed girl who walked into his club in a slutty black number. And it was dark and so freaking loud, there’s no way he recognized me.

Maybe he locked eyes with me because he wanted to tap that.