Heart of A Savage

Bailey

            Harmony wore her hair dark brown, with several different shades of brown highlighted throughout and long. It stopped just shy of her waistline and draped beautifully over ample breasts, which I seriously considered paying money to replicate. Her waist tapered in, only to flare out into her hips, and the outfit she wore accentuated it all. Her skin was a rich caramel color, and she had eyes the lightest shade of brown. I’d met her that night because I was, unknowingly, on a date with her boyfriend. My birthday was in two days, and he wanted to celebrate early.

            Early on, Connor’s father had made it very clear that in less than three years, I’d marry Connor, who would eventually take over the family business, and on my wedding night, I was to be a virgin still. For reasons unknown to me, my dad had agreed. With that mandate in place, none of the guys I knew would ever come near me. Even Connor kept his distance, and I was supposed to be his. That made me believe it was more because of me as a person versus what was known by everyone. I mean, come on. If anyone would have been okay approaching me, it should have been Connor, right? But he never did. Since he never did, and seemed to have no problem dating and sleeping with other girls—even the ones who had deemed themselves my closest friends—I developed a complex of out-of-this-world proportions. Something had to be wrong with me, and in my head, that something was the way I looked.

So, of course, when Sky approached me—again, no one ever approached me—those same so-called friends had wholeheartedly encouraged me to go out with him. One, in particular, Jessica, literally pushed me into Sky’s arms, and over the following weeks, she’d set up dates and sent him cute little messages from my phone. Later, as in that same disastrous date night, I’d found out that she was sleeping with Connor and wanted to ease her guilt. Bitch.

            When Harmony found me with Sky, she’d been livid. How could Sky possibly choose an inexperienced child, who hadn’t even fully hit puberty over her? She’d said some hurtful things, and though she hadn’t been malicious, I’d sat in the backseat of their car and fought tears—she’d insisted they take me home. I couldn’t go home though, so I had them drop me off at Connor’s place. He may not have ever approached me, but he was nice sometimes if I reached out to him. His car was in the driveway, and I could hear muffled sounds from inside, so I knew he wasn’t asleep. Yet it took me ringing the doorbell five separate times for him to answer. When he finally opened the door, my breath caught in my throat.

Connor was a sight to behold with his clothes on, but wearing only a pair of athletic shorts, slung low on his hips, but he was downright breathtaking. Tattoos covered both of his arms and his long red hair was pulled back in a bun. He had fierce green eyes that never failed to pull me in and tonight was no different. Half-naked, man bun, muscles, and tats—it was pretty obvious why I was okay with being betrothed to him like some damsel from centuries past. It took me a moment to realize those green eyes that I lived for were glaring and the furrow in his brow wasn’t confusion at seeing me. If that weren’t enough of an indication, his words were.

            “What the fuck are ya doing here, Bailey?”

            His Scottish brogue was out in full force. A nifty little alarm to gauge his temper since that was when it usually came out. I faltered. I’d never had that brogue directed at me and found that it was downright frightening. I dropped my gaze to his feet and tried to gather my thoughts, but I was blank.

            “Ya need ta go home. I doona have time for this shit. It’s late. Ya should be in the fucking bed sleeping, not here bothering me.”

            Bothering him? The more he spoke, the more my thoughts scattered. For the life of me, I couldn’t say that I just needed a ride home. What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t formulate the words, let alone speak them.

            “Go home, Bailey.”

            The door slamming shut brought me out of my stupor. I wouldn’t even mention the pang in my chest, suspiciously close to where my heart was.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I wasn’t trying to bother you. I just needed a ride home,” I called out as I rapped my knuckles against the door. I held my breath and waited for a response. Thankfully, he opened the door a few seconds later.

            “I’m busy, so if ya need a ride, ya have ta wait.”

            I was already nodding my agreement before he’d finished his statement.

            “On the porch. Ya canna come in.”

            My head jerked to a stop and I glanced behind him trying to figure out what was so important. I saw nothing obvious and didn’t hear anything either. I glanced at the chairs on the porch and then at the foot of snow on the ground. It was the end of December, the heart of winter in Texas, and we’d had a freak snowstorm. I met his gaze and saw how serious he was, but before I could say anything, I heard another voice. A very familiar voice, since it had just pushed me to go out with Sky.

            “Who is it, babe? What’s taking so long?” Jessica asked.

            She wore the navy robe I’d just given him for Christmas, and the size of it on her would have been comical if it weren’t obvious it was all she wore. She didn’t notice me at first—not that I blamed her with Connor still standing there in all his Scottish glory—but when she did, the smile on her face vanished and her eyes widened. Connor gently grabbed her chin and turned her gaze back to him before giving her a grin that, under any other circumstance, would have driven me mad with lust. My hand drifted to that aching spot on my chest and I rubbed it without thought. I was wrong for being with Skye, but Jess was supposed to be my friend. My only friend. I was only with Skye because she pushed me to do it.

            “Go back and wait for me, lass. I’ll be there soon.”

            She nodded and hurriedly disappeared from my sight. Connor met my gaze and said¼absolutely nothing. Once again, I blurted out the most insane thought I could.

“Maybe I could get a blanket or one of your coats while I wait? It’s pretty cold tonight and I’m sure that’ll keep me warm until you’re done?”

My voice cracked on the last part and something like regret flashed in Connor’s eyes. I wanted to be stronger. I wished I was more capable than doing something as asinine as begging for warmth in the face of infidelity. I wanted to let lose my inner bitch, but the truth is she’d been silenced by years of being ignored by Connor and overlooked by so many. I honestly didn’t know how else to react. I just knew it hurt. By the time I’d furiously blinked away the tears that’d formed, whatever I’d seen in his eyes was gone. He stepped away briefly then passed me a thick coat. Another gift I’d just given him for Christmas. What the fuck did he even get me for Christmas? I couldn’t even remember. I forced a smile before wrapping the coat around me and perching on the edge of one of the snow-covered chairs. The coat smelled faintly of him and it was warm, but it reeked of Jessica’s perfume. It was as though she’d snuggled into him for his warmth or maybe he’d draped it over her to keep her warm.  Whatever I’d done to deserve this, Jesus was I sorry. I’d do whatever needed to be done to make amends because this was almost unbearable.

Connor stood there, silently watching me. I couldn’t do this. I passed the coat back to him, but he didn’t take it. There wasn’t enough blinking in the universe to stop the tears, but I couldn’t let him see them and he still didn’t take the coat, so I let it drop and turned to face the chair I’d just vacated.

“I should have called first instead of just popping up on you like this.”

Whenever he got around to checking his phone, he’d see that I’d actually called three times.

“I’ll get a ride from someone else. Or I can just call a taxi. That would have been the smart thing to do anyway. I can be so silly sometimes. If I just took a minute to think things through instead of being so impulsive, I’d figure a lot out much quicker. The only time I really focus like that is when I’m writing, but it’s so much easier to just get lost in those fantasies. Or baking! Baking is even better. And, shit, I’m rambling. I’ll just go now.”

I forced a chuckle at the end of that. When he didn’t respond, eyes boring into me, I stepped off the porch and tossed a hasty goodnight over my shoulder. A block away from his house I stumbled and barely caught myself. I realized that the pain in my chest had grown worse and nearly brought me to my knees. I deserve better than this, right?

My house was exactly 6.9 miles from Connor’s and according to G****e Maps, it would take me 2 hours and 14 minutes to walk there. Fuck. One hand on my phone, ready to hit send and dial 911, the other on the can of mace in my pocket, I pushed through and began my trek. Tired, cried out, nearly frozen, teeth chattering, and roughly two miles away from my house, I heard a car accelerate then slow behind me. I knew it was too much to hope for this night to get any better.

I sped up and managed to grip the pepper spray tighter even though my stiff fingers protested the movement. I gritted my teeth and kept moving. My brain was apparently frozen as well because even though I heard him calling my name, I didn’t register that it was Connor and when he grabbed me from behind, I screamed bloody murder. Even as he kept telling me it was him and trying to calm me down, I kept crying and failing miserably at trying to get away. Apparently, those tatted muscles aren’t just for show. The voice that actually broke through my delirium was one that I never wanted to hear again. Jessica held my face between her hands—warm as a furnace hands—and told me to calm down because it was just her and Connor. Just her and Connor.