“I’d still shake his hand.” He stood taller and looked down at Simon. “After that, you can do whatever the hell you want.”
Simon raised a brow at him. “Don’t forget the mission.”
Savage stared at him open-mouthed. “What mission? The only mission I’ve known about is take what we want, screw the rest.” He stepped toward Simon. “If there’s a mission, I want to know what the hell it is.”
Simon nodded. “That IS the mission.” He pointed out the flap of his tent. “The world is ours now, my friend. We take what we want and leave the rest to their own devices. If we want their food, we take it. If we want their women, we take them. If we want their weapons, we take them.”
Savage watched him as he began to work himself up into another tirade. Rather than listen to it, he turned and stepped out of the tent.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Simon barked.
Savage stopped and sighed heavily. “I’m fuckin’ tired. I’m going to try to get a few hours sleep before we start hunting down the survivors in this town and take what you want.” He walked away and disappeared into the night before Simon could bark at him anymore.
The more Simon was left to his own devices, the more Savage was reminded of a little purse dog. So little they could be squished by a well-placed fart, but they thought they were Great Danes. They’d bark at the larger dogs that they knew could chew them up and spit them out, but after the first big dog ignores them, they become emboldened and think that all of the big dogs will respect them.
Eventually, those little dogs get their asses chewed up or they end up dead. Savage still wasn’t sure if he’d kill Simon or just beat him to a bloody pulp, but he was really starting to tire of his rants and tirades. The man acted like a spoiled child.
Spoiled children suffer from not being punished enough. Savage was good at punishing.
He pulled open the door of the worn-out RV he called home. He heard soft snoring from the back and knew that Stella was already asleep. She had been given to Savage shortly after everything went to hell in a handbasket.
She wasn’t much to look at, but she had a kind heart. She was soft spoken and mousy, but she did what was asked of her. She did her best to keep his trailer picked up. She prepared meals when there was food available, and she actually knew how to make homemade wine from just about any fruit they could find.
Savage was a beast to any man that dared stand against him, but when it came to Stella, he never forced his hand. They had been together these past months and he still had yet to know her as a husband would know a wife.
As far as the club was concerned, the two were married. The gift from Simon was designed to provide the woman protection and the man certain satisfactions that would keep him happy and devoted to him. Simon knew that a man who felt he was beholden to him would be less likely to cause trouble. Perhaps that was why Savage was the first to be gifted a woman.
He shut the door carefully behind him, lest he wake her. He peeled the leather jacket off and sat down on the couch. He tugged his boots off, then peeled the leather riding pants off. The night air suddenly felt much cooler against his skin and he sighed with relief.
He went to the kitchen sink and rinsed the grit from his face and beard. A rag of a towel wiped the rest of the grime off. He turned slowly toward the bedroom of the RV and walked as softly as he could back there. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, then rolled into it, doing his best not to wake her.
She stirred softly and rolled into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and snuggling close to him. He lay in the dark and breathed as softly as he could to keep from waking her.
He knew she cared for him. She showed him daily in the little things. She even offered herself to him freely, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the pleasures she offered. To him, it was wrong. She had been enslaved by Simon. Sure, she was given the choice…either join the club or die. If not directly by Simon’s hand, then be left to fend for herself in a world gone mad.
She had been given to him as an offering and Savage couldn’t bring himself to fully accept her because of the circumstances. If she loved him, that would be different. But she quietly accepted her fate and that just didn’t sit well. Just one more reason he wanted to wrap his hands around Simon’s skull and squeeze it like a grape.
He reached out with his arm and wrapped it protectively around her. He had often wondered what her fate would have been if she had been given to any of the others in the club, and he had to push the thoughts from his mind. The things that some of those sick bastards would do was enough to enrage him.
As he lay there quietly in the darkness with only the soft sounds of her sleeping to lull him, he knew that he cared for her. He glanced down at her tiny form and sighed. Maybe he even loved her.
He stroked her back softly as she slept. He knew that if nothing else, he had to keep her safe.
Vivian sat up when the pilot announced they were approaching the target sector. She loosened her straps and leaned forward. “Has anybody from the team made radio contact?”
“Not yet, ma’am. We’re trying
