Savy

I am standing in a kitchen though not just any kitchen. It’s the kitchen I saw every day for sixteen years. My heart pounds so hard that I can feel it in my head. I’m standing in the house where I grew up.

How the hell did I get here?

The blood is rushing to my head, and I’m feeling light headed. Pure terror takes hold. I need to get out of here before Paul sees me, but my feet are rooted to the floor. I’m stuck, and the familiar feeling of dread takes over my body. I still hear the cries of what sounds like a child. The sounds are coming from the living room, but I can’t move. A howl of frustration rips from my chest, the sound of a banshee, foreign to my ears. At my cry, I tear myself away from the kitchen where I was previously rooted, as the memories assault me...

* * *

Savy

“Didn’t I tell you to clean the fucking kitchen?”

A small, uncontrollable whimper escapes me.

“Get your fucking ass in here and clean up this mess.”

I hurry past Paul as quickly as possible, knowing no matter how fast I move the blows are coming. And they do, they always do. The pain radiates through the muscles in my neck and back. I almost lose balance and hit my head on the corner of the countertop.

“Didn’t I tell you to clean this goddamn house!” he starts. The rage rolling off of him is clear in the force of the fists he rains down on me. My only defense against the larger man is to drop to the floor and curl into a ball, stretching my arms up to protect my head.

“I fucking hate you!” he screams. “You are a piece of shit. You little bitch. It’s all your fault.”

These are words I hear during each beating. I already know it’s my fault, but Paul reminds me during each punishment, as if to rub my guilt in the still fresh wound. I used to apologize and plead for leniency, for forgiveness, but that made the beatings worse. So I stay silent now, letting no sound escape when Paul decides I need discipline. Whatever infraction he deems punishable, I remain silent. No matter how hard he hits me. Nothing he does to me can hurt me more than I'm hurting myself.

The beating lasts for what seems like an eternity when I hear a whimper at the entrance of the kitchen. It pulls me from the place I go inside my head to survive, even when surviving means more beatings, more rape. Ena, with her brown eyes so wide and brimming with tears, is standing just outside the kitchen. She is watching as a ranting Paul continues to punch me, continues to kick me.

Ena is terrified, but I see something in her eyes, the same something I see during each beating. She wants to help me. She is dying to step in, but I can see the hesitation in her eyes, too. I shake my head as much as possible while protecting it with my arms, begging her with my eyes, to let it be. I don’t want her to interfere. If she tries to help me, his wrath will be directed at her instead, and I can’t live with that. He’s never hurt Ena. She has always been spared. Not exactly daddy’s little girl, but off limits to the abuse I’m so accustomed to. Unless you count the mental abuse he inflicts every day. Having her watch while he punishes me effects Ena, whether he knows it or not. I won’t allow Paul to hurt Ena. So I take each beating. Today will not be her first.

The fists stop as abruptly as they started, but Paul ends it with a swift kick to my side, cracking my ribs. I feel them break and it takes everything out of me to keep the scream inside. It hurts so badly, but I will not cry. He thrives off the cries. Although I won’t make a sound, nothing can stop the tears from streaming down my face.

“Now, get the fuck up!”

I try to stand, but a shooting pain in my left arm has me collapsing back down. Again, I don’t make a sound. He will never again have the satisfaction of hearing my screams.

“I said, GET THE FUCK UP!” he says. And with an immense effort, I stand on shaking legs.

“Clean this fucking kitchen and don’t make me tell you again.” He grabs his keys from the hook next to the sink and leaves the house with a slam of the front door.

I clean the single cup in the sink. He beat me for one cup. The bright pink and purple princess design mocks me. I’ll never be as happy as the princesses smiling at me. It’s a life of darkness and pain for me.

I want to die.

* * *

Savy

I feel something touch my face. Just a gentle stroke, but I see nothing.

“Savannah, baby, wake up.”

The voice washes over me, calming my previous fear.

“Savannah, WAKE UP!” The voice sounds angry now. What was once gentle and soothing is now angry and terrifying.

“Savy! Baby, get the fuck up!”

I jump up and scramble out of the black sheets on the soft bed. My natural instincts of fight or flight kick in. I’ve been choosing flight for years, this moment no different.

Before my feet touch the floor, I’m engulfed in a firm embrace. My mind is still stuck in the haze of the nightmare, and before I can think, I start to thrash, “No!” I choke out.

“Shh. Baby, I got you. It was just a dream,” Caleb whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you. It’s over now.”

But it wasn’t just a dream. It was real. Very real. I’d lived that nightmare daily until I packed Ena up and ran.

The dam bursts and I sob against Caleb’s hard chest, all my weight collapsing into his arms. He turns me around, so I’m pressed against his front, while gently stroking my back. I cling to Caleb like he is a life preserver in a sea of my painful memories. After some time, I calm. In a span of days, I have cried more than I have in the last ten years.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Thank you, Caleb. I’m good now,” I say. Embarrassed by my behavior.

“Damn it, Savy, you are not good. Stop saying that shit!” he barks and I jump out of instinct.

I can see the pain in his eyes, I know he won’t hurt me, but life has taught me that men cannot be trusted. Caleb has proved otherwise. He cares about me, and I don’t understand why. I’m damaged. He deserves someone whole.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I care about you, Savy, let me take care of you.”

“You already have. I haven’t cried in ten years, and I’ve cried three times since being here. You make me feel safe enough to let it out.”

His face goes blank.

Uh oh.

I shouldn’t have told him that.

“You were crying before?”

Yep, shouldn’t have said anything.

“Yes,” I murmur.

“Since you’re up, we are going to talk. Want to tell me what the dream was about?” He changes the subject to a topic I don’t want to discuss.

“No.”

Sighing at my quick response, he says, “You can tell me anything. I’d never hurt you.”

“I know that. I don’t know how I know, but I know.” Caleb wouldn’t hurt me.

“So you can tell me.”

“Fine,” I say a little annoyed at his persistence. I describe my nightmare. His body goes taut as I describe the day in the kitchen. It was a dream today, but that is a day I will never forget.

“Babe,” he chokes out and hugs me. His embrace is tight. It’s like he's afraid to let go. “I’m going to kill him.” It’s all he says. And I believe him.

Diablo is going to kill Paul. I just hope I’m there to see the life slip from his eyes.

* * *

Diablo

“I can’t promise that, babe, but I’ll do my best.”

“Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?” she asks.

I chuckle and pull her up against my hard body, my back to the mattress and her on top of my muscular frame. I feel her nipples through the t–shirt she’s wearing as she slides over my bare chest and abs, and my dick gets hard… I do my best to think about other things. Now is not the time to lay her bare and ravish her sexy body.

“Yes, you did, and I don’t blame you for wanting to see him suffer.”

“You don’t think that makes me a bad person?” I ask warily.

“Hell no. That makes you human. Wanting revenge is normal.”

After Savy revealed her dream, I held her until she slipped back into a restless sleep. Every time she rolled away from me, I pulled her back into my embrace, and she settled. Her scent calmed my racing heart and rising anger. Each time I think about her childhood and the pain she endured, it pisses me off, so I inhale and I settle. She smells like a mixture of me and scent all her own. And I love it. I can’t explain this strange attraction we have to each other, but I’m not going to fight it. I know I want her and I’ll do anything to make sure she is mine. I always take care of my property.

Loud knocking draws me from my sleep. “Prez, we got a problem,” Wolf says.

“Shit,” I whisper. “Give me a minute.”

Sliding from under Savy’s sleeping form, I move to grab some jeans and a black tee.

“Where are you going?” Savy grumbles.

“I gotta go, babe. Go back to sleep.”

“Can you send Ena in here to lay with me?” she asks. Pushing herself up on one elbow, her long hair is curly and wild from sleep. She looks sexy as hell and I want to slide into her sweet pussy, but there never seems to be the right time. It’s hard to believe that I’m considering the timing of sleeping with a woman. In my past, the right time was whenever I wanted, but with Savy it’s different. I need this to be different.

“She’s sleeping. It’s only six thirty. Rest,” I command.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “Stupid, bossy man.” Her words are muffled as she snuggles back into the covers.

Shaking my head with a smirk on my face, I leave my room. Skull is standing just down the hall, and his scowl wipes the grin right off my face.

“What’s going on?”

“Some guy was sneaking around Savy’s house.” My body tenses and I wait to hear the rest of Wolf’s report. “Smoke gave chase, but the fucker got away.”

“Who the fuck was it?”

“Dunno man, but we got a plate number and Joker got a good look at him. I have Axel on it now.”

“We got a description?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I was waiting for your go, but I wanted to see if Savy or Ena can identify this guy.”

“Let me go get her up. You get the kid. Church, now,” I growl. I want to give Savy time to rest. She woke up with that fucking nightmare and tossed and turned the rest of the night, but now that’s over. She needs to help find out who the fuck this was because her nightmares may have just gotten real.