All Chapters of Heart of A Savage: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

Bailey             “Jesus Connor, she’s fucking frozen!” Jessica shrieked.             “She told me she was going ta call a taxi, not walk home!” Connor’s voice rang out in a mixture of anger and, surprisingly, concern.             “And you didn’t even make sure she actually called one!?”             “Doona get all high and mighty, lass. Ya werna so concerned about her before,” he said before roughly shoving her away, and cradling me against his chest. He’d never touched me or held me like this before. Never. The experience was bittersweet. I never wanted him to touch me again.             “Because you said she was fine!” Jessica screeched from whe

Dominic “You think I’m going to hurt you?” I tried to keep the growl from my voice, but I couldn’t. Everything about this girl irked the fuck out of me, for some reason. Why would I want to hurt her and why in the hell was she so scared when she sought me out? She shrugged in answer and although she tried to cower away, she didn’t physically try to get free. Now I was upset and confused. Either she was scared or she wasn’t. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to let you go and you’re not going to run, okay? You’re going to tell me what you’re doing out here and why you’re alone.” She frantically nodded her agreement and I let her go. She kept her eyes trained on the ground and that bothered me even more.             “How’d you get here?”             “I walked, from the bus.”     

My mouth opened and closed as I tried to force words out. None are forthcoming, and I was sure I only succeeded at looking like an idiot. The one who asked who I was reached forward – probably to grab the container, but did I mention the bloodthirsty pack of wolves? I let out a yelp and backpedaled only to come up against another body. That stupid squeak came out again as I tried to move forward, but hands gripped my shoulders, halting my movements. I was two seconds away from tossing the containers and hoping to cause a feeding frenzy – because they’re wolves – when I heard his voice right next to my ear. “What’s in the containers, little mouse?” I whimpered. Instead of the human language, I’d been reduced to squeaks and whimpers. He chuckled at the sound, and Jesus help me, my knees threatened to buckle. How could his laugh have this effect on me? I’m turned and forced to look up at him. His hands rested low on my hips, much lower than a friendly touch, long finger

The next day, still skeptical and wanting to gauge her ability to actually hit head-on, I had Bailey work with the heavy bag. She was able to hit, but didn’t have much strength behind her jabs. Somehow, she had fantastic technique. Before I could point that out to her, she stopped hitting the bag, turned to face Cade and Mark, and pulled her wireless earbud from her ear. Apparently, that was her thing. One earbud hooked to her shirt, the other on her right ear so she could hear her music. Don’t Let Me Down by The Chainsmokers and Daya was one of her favorites. “What’s Cade doing?” “Focus sparring. Mark wears the focus mitts—the gloves—but generally keeps the palm, which is the flat side, from showing. Cade has to focus on pretty much everything because the only time he can hit is when Mark shows the flat side of the mitts. He can’t hit anything else. His attention slips, and Mark could just hit him or even throw elbows, knees, or kicks.” As I explaine