Beautiful Savage (Savage & Ink Book 2) Read online

  Beautiful Savage

  Copyright © 2018 Victoria Ashley

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover Artist by:

  CT Cover Creations

  Photographer: FuriousFotog

  Model: Nick Bennett

  Editing by:

  Charisse Spiers

  Interior Design & Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  Contents

  BEAUTIFUL SAVAGE

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Books by Victoria Ashley

  Acknowledgements

  I CAN’T FUCKING BREATHE . . . I don’t want to. With every breath that fills my lungs, I feel the rage building inside of me, making it hard to think straight.

  If I don’t find out where this son of a bitch is within the next thirty seconds, I know without a doubt I’ll be taking a man’s life tonight.

  I’ll stand here, my rough hands wrapped tightly around James’ throat, squeezing until I see the last sign of life drain from his eyes.

  And I will feel nothing.

  Which is exactly what I’ve felt for the last three days; since I showed up at Alexandra’s house to find it littered with pills and cocaine.

  I’m numb to every emotion other than fury.

  My grip around James’ throat tightens as I hold his head above the bathwater, giving him a few moments to catch his breath.

  The prick can hardly remember his name at this point from the lack of oxygen to his brain, but I don’t give a fuck. Either that or he’s not talking. One way or another, he has answers that I need and I’m not leaving here without them.

  “Where is he?” I ask again, my voice gruff as I lean in close to his bloodied and swollen face. “This is your last chance.”

  He coughs and digs at my hands when I give his throat a firm squeeze and lift him higher out of the water.

  “I don’t . . .” he coughs. “ . . . know–”

  “Tell me, before I rip your fucking throat out.” Anger courses through me, making me see red when I don’t get the answer I need. “Fuck this.”

  Growling out, I shove him back into the water, watching with dead eyes, all the fucks in the world gone as he gasps for air and slaps at the porcelain surrounding him.

  It’s hard to see him through the bloodstained water, yet I keep my gaze on him, not wanting to miss a second of his suffering.

  It’s this piece of shit’s fault that Alexandra got mixed up with Jasper to begin with.

  I kept her in the dark when we were kids, not wanting her to ever know who that sick fuck was; even though he’d been at my doorstep more times than I could count while growing up.

  I couldn’t protect my mother from him, but I made damn sure he never set his eyes on Alexandra to chance ruining her too.

  Even when I was too young to fully understand how that part of the world worked, I still knew he was bad news.

  I’d seen how dangerous and greedy he was through his careless eyes.

  With my hand still around James’ throat, I step into the water and kneel above his body, so I can get a better grip. Looking him dead in the eyes, I reach into my boot and pull out my knife, placing it to his cheek.

  “Tell me where the fuck he is, before I start cutting you into pieces, starting with your tongue. Now!” I scream in his face, before releasing his throat with a shove.

  I keep my body above his, not giving him a chance to escape even if he had it left in him, which he doesn’t.

  We’ve been at this for over twenty minutes now.

  “I don’t know . . .” he gasps out, gripping at the bathtub. “I swear! I swear! Please, don’t. Please . . .”

  Letting out some pent-up anger, I slam my fist into his face, knocking him out cold.

  I still need him alive, so I grab him by the shirt and pull him above the water, before walking across the room to grab another cigarette from the sink.

  “Fuck!” I smash the box in my hand, before tossing the empty package at the wall. This is not a good time to run out of smokes. They’re about the only thing keeping me from killing this asshole.

  Yelling out, I grip my hair, before reaching for the closest thing to me and breaking it against the wall. I don’t stop until everything in this small bathroom is broken and out of place.

  When I stop to catch my breath, I look into the mirror, staring long and hard at the monster I’ve become for her. She is the only girl I’d kill for. Always has been.

  I slam my fist into the glass repeatedly, not stopping until my skin is hanging from my knuckles.

  Blood covers everything.

  My fist.

  The sink.

  The floor.

  And I know more blood will spill until I get what I need, because I won’t stop until I’m standing above Jasper’s lifeless body and he’s paid for hurting the person I love most in this shitty world.

  And I’ll kill any motherfucker who stands in my way . . .

  Present

  THE HEAVY BREATHING BESIDE ME lets me know that James is still sleeping. We’ve been screwing for almost a year now, and even though I’ve told him numerous times I’m not capable of settling down and having a normal life, he decided to follow me here anyway.

  He may pretend he’s cool with us not being exclusive, but I can tell it bugs him I’m still refusing to commit after all this time.

  I remove his heavy arm from my waist, before I reach over into the nightstand and pull out a random bottle of pills, popping the last two into my mouth.

  I’ve stopped reading the labels and trying to keep track of what I put in my body, because honestly, none of the labels match what the bottle contains.

  I’ve gotten into the habit of just grabbing and popping, needing just enough of something—anything—to numb me throughout the day.

  “You’re up early.” James kisses my neck, a gesture that should make me feel something, but it doesn’t.

  “Couldn’t sleep. It’s weird b
eing back here.”

  And really . . . it’s not early. It’s already past noon but considering we were up past three A.M. drowning ourselves in whiskey, while doing lines of cocaine, I suppose it is considered early.

  He brushes my hair away from my neck, before running his fingertips over it. “Well, it’s been a long time. I’m sure it’ll feel weird for a while.”

  I close my eyes and roll onto my back as he reaches over me and into the drawer. He moves around a few bottles, but I don’t hear any pills move. “Are there any left?”

  “No. I took the last one,” I lie, which is something I’ve become good at.

  “The last two, Alex. There were two last night after you passed out. I know because I counted them after I popped two.”

  “All right, so I lied. One doesn’t do shit and you know it, James.” I sit up and reach for my thong, slipping it on. “What does it matter? We need to get more either way.”

  I can feel his eyes on me, as I stand here half-naked, lighting up a joint. “Come smoke that with me while I smash you.”

  “No.” I take a long drag and hold the smoke in for as long as I can, before I blow it in his direction. “I don’t feel like fucking, James. If I did then you would know, because I’d be on your dick already. I need to go into work early today. I need the money for bills. Plus, I need to keep busy before I go stir crazy in this hellhole.”

  “Well, I hope you plan to shower first, because you smell like booze and weed. No one is going to let you work if you walk in looking and smelling like you’ve been at a rave party. Not even the shady bar you serve at.”

  “And no one else is going to want to fuck you if you keep busting your load within the first ten minutes.” I lift a brow and place the joint between my lips as I reach for my bra and a clean pair of jeans. “Don’t tell me what I need to do, because you know damn well I’ll do the opposite.”

  “Okay, so then don’t fuck me. Will that get you over here and on my dick?” He sits up, his muscles bulging as he looks me up and down.

  He’s hot as hell. Probably one of the hottest men I’ve ever slept with, yet he does nothing for me.

  “I’ll pass. Like I said, I’m not in the mood.”

  “What the shit? You haven’t been ‘in the mood’ since I got here a week ago. Is there something I should know about? Maybe some old boyfriend I need to kick the shit out of?”

  I clench my jaw and throw the joint at his head. “I’d watch what you say, James. The only person I’ve ever truly cared about calls this place home, and if you touch him, I’ll kill you myself.”

  He quickly grabs for the joint, places it between his lips, and throws his hands up. “Whoa. Dick that good? He must’ve tore that pussy up for hours on end or else you’d hate him as much as you hate me.”

  “Fuck you.” I jump on the bed, straddle him, and grab him by his throat. “He gave me more than you can ever give me. And I was only twelve, you asshole. We never had sex. He was my best friend and he took care of me. That’s more than anyone else has ever done for me, including you.”

  James smiles and blows smoke into my face. “So, he’s the reason you’re so angry all the time, huh? Your daddy made you leave him—the one boy who made you forget how messed up that piece of shit father of yours was.” Disgust boils inside me as he slides his finger down my arm in a sexual way. “And didn’t you say some of his friends even touched you and got off to you. Do you really think this boy could’ve saved you from that? He was a kid, babe.”

  “He was a man,” I grind out, angry that he’s speaking of Jaxon. “He was a man because he would’ve protected me no matter what it took. Every other asshole I’ve ever met since him has been nothing but boys wishing they were men. He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

  “Shut up.” He grabs my head and pulls it down until his lips are against mine. “My dick proves I’m all man. You don’t think I’d protect you?”

  “You don’t,” I spit out. “If you did I wouldn’t be popping pills and drinking until I pass out with you right beside me. This is exactly why we’re not a couple. Go home, James.”

  With that, I push on his chest, before I jump out of his lap and disappear into the bathroom.

  I lock the door behind me, so he won’t attempt to join me like last time. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that son of a bitch get near me right now.

  It’s been thirteen years since I last stepped foot into this town and I’ve been fighting hard to keep my head above water since being back here, afraid of drowning in the memories.

  James just had to go and bring them up again, catching me off guard and fucking with my mind.

  I was a complete wreck after we moved. I cried for weeks, maybe even months, because I knew I no longer had Jaxon Kade to comfort me. And he was the only person I’ve ever truly cared about.

  He was the only person who ever made me feel safe and loved. I was never scared when I was with him.

  The worst part of it all was that I didn’t even know we were moving. I never got to say goodbye. We got up in the middle of the night and left everything behind.

  If I had known my dad was going to force me to leave Jaxon, I would’ve run. I would’ve stayed hidden for as long as it took if it meant I didn’t have to leave the one person I loved and trusted.

  Trusting people isn’t something I do easily, and it has proven to only get harder over the years.

  I’ve been fucked over so many times that I’ve lost count. I’ve been lied to, cheated on, and emotionally and physically abused. I’m sick and tired of it.

  I’m so mentally and physically drained that I truly have nothing left to give. It hurts just to wake up in the morning, because I know my day will only be as shitty as the last.

  Once you’re filled with as much hate and distrust that I have, everything good in the world dies.

  And everything good in my world died the day I lost Jaxon.

  But if he saw me now, he’d probably wish he’d never known me in the first place, because I’m just as fucked in the head as his mother was.

  He was too good for me. Probably still is.

  It pains me that he fought so hard to change his mother’s lifestyle and save her from the damage the drugs were causing and I ended up going down the same path as her.

  I need my medicine to escape this reality, and even the pills, cocaine, and liquor aren’t enough to numb the pain.

  If I found Jaxon and pushed my way back into his life, the only thing I would end up doing is ruin him just as I am ruined.

  I could never do that to the beautiful, protective Jaxon I remember, yet the idea of being in the same town where he grew up somewhat comforts me, and that is exactly why I’m back after all these years.

  Doesn’t mean I plan to look for him. He’s probably not even still here and maybe that’s a good thing. At least for him.

  After a few minutes, I finally jump into shower and stand under the steaming water, scorching my skin.

  It burns.

  My flesh is red from the heat and it’s hard to breathe in here, but I don’t care.

  At least I feel something. Anything at all.

  It’s barely past eight, yet I’ve already been tempted to strangle at least three people in the seven hours I’ve been here.

  Okay, more like five or ten people, but I suppose it is better than most nights.

  These assholes just don’t get that I’m not interested in them taking me home for a good fuck as they call it. I’m only interested in surviving, and apparently, I’ll do anything to do that or else I wouldn’t have taken the first job offered to me when moving back two weeks ago.

  This place is a dump. It’s dirty and the liquor is cheap, which draws in all the lowlifes who think they’re exactly what I need to loosen up so I’m not such a bitch day in and day out.

  It’s not surprising to say that I have a resting bitch face one hundred percent of the time and the attitude to back it up.

  I’m not interested in
changing that, and even if I were the men who come here wouldn’t be enough to do the trick.

  “Here’s your tab.” I drop the little white paper in front of the jerk that’s been dropping pickup lines my way for the last fifty-two minutes.

  Yes, I’ve been timing his idiotic ass.

  He picks up the bill and balls it up. Then he flashes me what he believes is a charming smile and drops it down in front of him. “I’m not done here yet, baby. Not until you let me buy you a drink.”

  “No.”

  “Stop playing hard to get when we both know you’re leaving here with me tonight.”

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and slowly release it. I’ve been working on my anger as much as I can lately and being here really tests me and pushes my limits.

  I lean over the bar and get right up in his face. “You can take your cheap drink and shove it up your ass. It’s not happening. Now shut up and pay so I can go home.”

  “Damn, girl.” He gives me a sour look and reaches into his pocket for cash. “Here. Keep the damn change.”

  I eye him over as he stands up and walks away. He’s not a bad looking guy, but nothing lights my fuse more than a guy pushing himself on me when I’m clearly not feeling it.

  “What an ass.” My roommate Tessa slides in beside me and reaches for the small pile of cash the jerk left on the bar. “After this crappy tip, he’s an even bigger ass. Wow. These assholes never cease to amaze me here.”

  I met Tessa after I got the job here. When she learned I was staying at a shitty motel, she offered me the spare room at her place.

  “Yup. It’s bullshit, but what can we do?” I don’t even bother counting my tip. I grab the two twenties he left to cover the bill and shove the coins leftover for my tip into the tip jar that Tessa and I will split at the end of the night. “You good without me? That ass was my last open tab and I want to get out of here before I get stuck with another one.”

  “Yup.” She quickly wipes the bar off and jumps right into helping the next person who pulls out a stool and takes a seat. “I’ve got it from here. It’s slowing down now anyway.”

  “Okay, great. I’ll see you when you get off.”