SURVIVING SAVANNAH: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK 16)

was a mistake that I instantly regretted.
But damn, seeing her again was like being given a gift.
I filed away the mental picture of her for later, and vowed to keep my shit together. I was here to work, not reminisce about an old flame, and especially not to reignite that fire.
Some sparks were meant to go out.
Maybe eventually this one would, too.
Until then, I’d focus more on work and a whole lot less on Rose Marie Davenport.

Chapter 17
CHERRY
Blinding light pierced the comfortable darkness I’d been swimming in.
Before now, time didn’t exist. Pain didn’t exist. All that I knew and all that I was, was this warm black sea I’d been floating in. I’d become a part of it.
Everything that I loved was gone.
As far as I knew, that blackness was all I had left. Until the light broke through, ripping me out of comfort and lifting me to the surface from the depths I’d resigned myself to.
Deep, throbbing pain pulsed through my body, shooting straight to my brain. Blinking, my eyes sticky and wet, as I tried to focus on the cold, grey eyes staring back at me.
I’d seen them before.
Somewhere just as dark as the abyss I’d just risen from. My brain couldn’t remember, but my body seemed to. Panic rose in my throat, but my scream died in my mouth. Could he see the fear in my eyes?
The incessant beeping that had echoed in the room quickened and the pain throbbing through me seemed to heat up, scorching my veins with a white-hot flame.
Paralyzed — with fear, by my broken body, by this brand new pain — I was helpless.
The eyes faded away, but the man’s figure stayed, working around me, muttering to himself, the room dark and the world around us quiet, creating a profound and intrusive intimacy.
My life in his hands, I lay before him. My flesh an offering, my life an invitation, a temptation.
“It was never supposed to go this far,” his voice, a familiar refrain. I’d heard the words before. I’d heard the voice before. Somewhere even darker than this.
Somewhere much more evil.
I wanted to speak. Offer forgiveness for flesh, negotiate silence for life.
But silence was all I had now.
I stared back at him, the truth reflected in his eyes.
Would he kill me now?
“Why did you make me do this?” He implored, his eyes searching mine now.
I wanted to apologize. Beg for mercy.
I wanted to tell him I forgave him.
If he would just let me go back to the darkness…
And then, he was gone. Fading away into the air like a spirit that never really left, lingering in my mind, drifting into the darkest corners of my mind as I dove back into the blackness, the light fading away into the distance, the pain dissolving into the abyss, the embrace of the warm dark sea surrounding me like a long-lost bliss…


Chapter 18
SLADE
Five shots in, and the chick just wouldn’t stop staring.
The living room at the Kehoe House was half-full, mostly with couples snuggled up in dark corners, their candlelit faces nothing more than dim flashes of smiles here and there. A small, informal bar was set up in the corner, with a bartender standing behind it to attend to the guests. A young woman played the harp in the corner, the music streaming through the air like a velvet ribbon.
The only other woman that was alone wasn’t really a woman at all.
Well, I mean it was obvious at some point in her life, she was all-woman. Those curves alone must have taken down dozens of the strongest of men. But it was her tits, on full display, pushed up by some ancient contraption that was no-doubt torturous, that captured my attention.
Along with those eyes, of course. Darker than night, they were endless pools of secrets.
They wouldn’t quit. In fact, the last two shots I’d done with the sole intention of drinking those eyes away.
But there she still was.
Larger than life, literally.
She must have been at least twelve feet tall, if not more, I deduced. Her long red hair cascaded around her shoulders in thick, luscious waves that I wanted to bury my face in, right before I buried it in those tits, of course.
Her eyes were not only staring, I was pretty sure they were also following me. I’d gone to the men’s room earlier, a small wash closet under the stairs, and I could have sworn they trailed me the whole way.
“Another shot, please,” I requested, hoping one last drink would chase her away.
The guy behind the bar was young, much younger than me. But hell, I felt like one of the old guys more and more each day. Now that I had Diana and Jeremiah, life had settled down a lot for me and time kept ticking away.
No more chasing tail. No more drinking every single night just because there wasn’t anything else to do when I wasn’t working. Damn, Diana had a honey-do list a mile long for me. If I didn’t love them both so much, I’d feel like a chump. But I’d grown out of that mindset, too, it seemed. Now, I realized that I had it wrong all along, thinking life was only about partying and raising hell, and punching and getting punched, as much as I could.
Well, don’t get me wrong, I still enjoyed the sound of the smack of flesh against flesh — in all its forms — but my life was more about loving my family now, and I knew my mindset was right where it was supposed to be.
That’s why I was so unnerved by the feelings I was having because this chick was staring at me.
“What’s up with her?” I asked the bartender, as he sat the shot glass down in front of me.
He didn’t even look up over his shoulder at her to see what I was talking about. He already knew. He sighed, shaking her head.
“That’s Zelda.”
“She’s beautiful,” I replied, staring up at her in awe.
“I guess,”