Royal Savage
Page 17I’ve never found smoking to be attractive, but watching Royal and the way he moves his mouth is oddly making me hot for him.
Pulling my eyes away, I clear my throat and toss the last plate. This is the weirdest activity I have ever done with anyone, but oddly freeing. “That’s it. That’s the last one.”
Taking one last long drag, Royal puts his cigarette out in Blaine’s sink and starts walking over to me. “Good girl.” Grabbing me by the hips, he sets me back down to the ground and grabs my chin, pulling it up to look at him. “Feel better?”
I nod my head. “Surprisingly I do.” I almost feel like breaking more shit. I’ve never done anything like this before.
“Good.” He sucks in a deep breath. “At least one of us does.”
“Ah fuuuck!”
I look away from Royal, who is smiling, and over to Blaine who is now standing in the doorway.
“I should have hidden the fucking dishes.”
Royal grins and tosses a shot glass at Blaine. Blaine attempts to catch it but misses, with it landing and breaking at his boot. “Or just learn to buy paper plates, asshole.”
Blaine scrunches his forehead and reaches for a cigarette. “Fuck that. Then you’ll find other shit in my house to break.”
“Where’s Madison,” I ask, when I realize that she’s not in the house with us. “Is her car already fixed?”
“Good,” I say softly. “Thanks for helping her. She’s been putting it off forever.”
He nods his head. “Sure thing.” He lifts a brow at me. “Thanks for helping this dick head break my shit.”
“Sure thing,” I reply back, fighting to keep my cool and not show my nerves.
Blaine and Royal both smile at my response.
“Have fun cleaning this shit up.” Royal grabs my hand and pulls me close to his side. “I’m dropping her off and then heading to the bar to take care of some shit.”
“Fuck . . . okay.” Blaine runs a hand through his hair while checking out the mess in his kitchen. “See your ass tomorrow.” He turns to me. “Later, babe.”
I smile when he winks and blows out smoke. “Later, Blaine.”
We pull up outside of my house and I quickly hop off this time, handing him his helmet. “Thanks for the ride. Later.”
I attempt to walk away, but Royal grabs my arm, stopping me. He pulls me back, turning me around to face him.
He looks at me for a few seconds, as if he’s not sure he should say anything, before finally speaking. “Come by my place on Friday night. We need to celebrate you handing Colton his ass by adding another tattoo to that beautiful body.”
Without saying a word, he growls when I turn to walk away.
By the time I reach the porch and turn back around, he’s pulling away, speeding off on his bike.
I find myself smiling as I let myself inside and close the door behind me.
There’s no way in hell that he came to the salon tonight just for a damn haircut. Guys like that don’t need a fancy hairstylist to cut their hair. They do it themselves in their bathrooms, kitchens, or at a friend’s house.
That somehow leaves me happy, knowing that he most likely came just to see me. Colton has never shown up at the salon to get an unneeded haircut. In fact, the day I met him was the only time he set foot in there.
Royal may be a little rough around the edges, but there’s something hiding deep inside, wanting to come out; possibly a bigger heart than his brother’s got.
The question is, should I hang around to find out?
Twenty months ago . . .
“WHAT THE FUCK, JAX,” I snap, when he pushes my door open, interrupting me for the third time in the last twenty minutes. “Can I finish this shit so I can get home to Olivia already? I’m tired of looking at you dickheads tonight.”
His face turns hard. “Nah, man. James is here again looking for Brian and he is fucking heated. He said he’s going to break everything in this fucking bar if you don’t come out and see him. Doesn’t look like he’s leaving.”
I walk out¸ slamming the door behind me. I look around the dark bar until I spot James and two of his guys going through my liquor stash.
“What the fuck can I do for you, Fuckers?”
James and his guys walk around the bar to meet up with me, one of his guys still holding a bottle of my whiskey. I watch him carefully as he tilts the bottle back and takes a swig of it, trying to intimidate me and show me he has balls. Fucker’s lucky it’s almost empty or he’d lose them.
“I need my fucking money; all twenty grand of it,” James barks out. “And since I can’t fucking find Brian, I’m getting it from the fucktard that allowed his dirty ass to fuck me over in his bar. That’s you my friend. Now where’s my fucking dough?” He grabs the bottle of whiskey from his friend and tosses it at the wall, breaking it.
Out of instinct, I grab him by the neck and slam him against the wall behind him. I squeeze, digging into his neck as I lean in close. “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Bar.” I squeeze tighter, knowing that this prick’s life is in my hands right now. One wrong move and I’ll take it. “I didn’t allow that fuck up to do shit in my bar.” I spit out. “Don’t expect shit from me. Got it, Bitch!”
I feel the barrel of a gun press against my temple, before I hear the hammer being pulled back. For a split second, I worry for my life, knowing what I have at home waiting for me, but still I test the water, hoping that they aren’t stupid enough to shoot me right now.
Growling out, I squeeze his neck until he’s fighting for air and pulling at my fingers with both hands.