Home > Savage Ending (Savage Series #4)(7)

Savage Ending (Savage Series #4)(7)
Author: Lisa Renee Jones

 I wiggle an eyebrow at him and he grunts. “Of course, you were.”

 I settle into my seat and move it back only to have Asher grunt again while Adam sets us in motion toward our first destination, White Castle, where burgers and fries become the rocket fuel of superhumans.

 That’s us.

 And once we’re inside the fast-food joint at a table, that’s when the real magic and planning starts.

 We huddle up in a small corner booth and get busy stuffing our faces. “What now?” Asher asks, finishing off one of the three burgers he ordered.

 “Yeah,” Adam says. “What now?”

 “According to Max,” I reply. “I’m supposed to text him when I land so he can give me further details. And fuck that shit is my answer to that.”

 “Amen, brother,” Adam says. “This could all be a setup that ends with you getting your head blown off.”

 “Yep,” I say, taking a handful of his fries since mine have been disposed of in my belly. “If Max thinks I’m a dumbass, I’ll be happy to kill him.”

 “Not a dumbass,” Asher snorts. “Just a pain in the ass.”

 “And proud of it, pretty-boy rocker.”

 Asher grins. “Pretty? You should have told me how you feel sooner, Savage. I would have told Candace to step aside.” He snatches a handful of Adam’s fries.

 Adam scowls and not at the conversation. “I’ll go get us all more fries.” He pushes to his feet and walks toward the counter.

 “Nuggets,” Asher calls over his shoulder and when Adam doesn’t reply, he grimaces. “He could have asked if we wanted anything. You want something?”

 “I’ll eat yours,” I promise.

 He laughs. “Which is why we all get extra, Savage.” He slides out of the seat to follow Adam toward the counter.

 This is how brilliant plans are created—with food and intellectual conversation.

 I eat the rest of Adam’s fries and my phone buzzes with a text. I glance down to read a message from Candace: I miss you. I love you. I want to call you but I don’t want to distract you. Just come home to me, sooner rather than later. I have a bad feeling about this, Rick.

 I glance toward the counter where Adam and Asher appear to have left the jest at the table behind, and traded it in for a serious conversation. They think this is a setup. I’m not sure they're wrong. And yet they’re here, brothers from another mother, in this to win it no matter what the cost.

 I stand up and walk to the door, stepping outside, the cool but not cold air washing over me.

 I dial Candace and she answers on the first ring. “Oh God. I didn’t mean for you to call. I’m the daughter of two military parents. I know distraction can get you killed.”

 “I’m at White Castle, baby. The only thing getting me killed right now is the food.”

 “You should be here,” she says softly.

 The rasp of emotion in her voice twists me in about ten knots. “I don’t disagree,” I assure her. “And I will be soon. Adam and Asher are with me. We’ll knock this out and be back in no time.”

 “Not soon enough. Not a second soon enough. Rick, I know this is what you do. I know you risk your life and you save lives. I’m not going to be like this every time you leave. This just feels different. You know why.”

 “I know why,” I say easily. She’s worried about the connection this has to my past. “After this, I’m done. I promise.”

 “Don’t die,” she whispers.

 “You can’t get rid of me this easily, baby. We’re going to grow old together, sit on a rocker on the back porch and remember the good ol’ days.”

 “We don’t have a back porch.”

 “Then the balcony. And I’ll tell you how my knee hurts, but how it would feel better if we were naked and in bed together.”

 She laughs. “I have no doubt we will have that exact conversation.”

 “We will and we can buy a place with a porch. We should buy a place in the Hamptons. We can escape up there, just you and me. What do you think?”

 “I think I’m good with anything that we do together. Just come home to me.”

 “Soon,” I promise. “We’re in Tennessee now. We’ll be on a plane to Colorado by early morning.”

 “Back tomorrow night?”

 “Maybe. I’ll try.”

 “Don’t try so hard you get killed.”

 “I told you—”

 “I know,” she says, “I love you, Rick Savage.”

 “I love you, too, baby,” I say. “Candace Savage.”

 She laughs and it’s a sweet laugh. “I do love how that sounds.”

 “Me, too,” I say. “Get some rest. I’ll be home before you know it.”

 “Bye,” she whispers, and then she hangs up.

 I feel the silence on the other end of the line like a punch in the gut, sliding my phone into my pocket as I try to figure out why I felt the compulsion to do this. Why I still feel that compulsion. And then, I’m back in Mexico with Max, running a mission for the government, back when those missions were still legit.

 I lean on the wall, holding it up, or maybe it’s holding me up. The door opens and closes behind me and then Adam is using the wall just like me.

 “We can turn back,” he tosses into the night air, a twinkling little star I wish I could just grab and take home with me, but it’s not that simple.

 “My first mission with Max,” I say, “was before we joined Tag.”

 “He was with you when you were military?”

 “He was,” I say solemnly. “Both of us worked for Candace’s father. We were sent to Mexico. A cartel had kids held hostage and we were told they were prepared to slaughter them, a promise the General told us not to question. He told us to kill whoever we had to kill to save those kids. And so, we did.” I glance over at him. “The reality is that day made me a willing killer. Some people deserve to die.”

 “Did you save the kids?”

 “Every fucking last one of them and there were twenty of those little monsters. I killed as many men that day and so did Max. He also saved my life on that mission. I had two kids in my arms, and a hostile came at me. I couldn’t lift my weapon. I should have died.”

 “And he killed him.”

 “He did.”

 “Okay,” he says. “I get it. He did a good thing, but he was with Tag. He was a mercenary.”

 “So the fuck was I. And he wanted out of that shit, just like me.”

 “You’re defending him with your words, but you’re also standing outside, ignoring the food you worship, without a joke or snarky word to your name. Why?”

 My jaw sets and my hands settle on my hips. “I don’t fucking know.”

 “You always know,” he reminds me. “You are always certain about everything you do. It’s how you operated on me under heavy gunfire and saved my life.”

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