Savage Saviors: The Complete Boxset (Savage Saviors MC) by J.C. Allen & Timothy Allen

Author:J.C. Allen & Timothy Allen [Allen, J.C.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-02-22T05:00:00+00:00

15

Derek

I had never felt so overjoyed to wake up just a little bit earlier than normal.

Because on this day, for the first time in a couple of years, I woke up next to someone that I relished seeing in the morning.

As my eyes fluttered awake, my body curled up to keep the heat of the covers, and the memories of the night before came rushing back, I could barely comprehend just all that had happened.

Rock, the thorn in my side, the murderer of all that I loved, was gone. Shot.

Roost, the man who had stood by my side through everything, who was like both a second father and a best friend to me depending on the situation, had died, if not from the gunshot wounds than certainly from the smoke inhalation from the meth lab exploding.

And Eve, bless her, had come and saved me.

I had probably consigned myself to the grave if her words had not reached me. I would have just passed out from the smoke, died, and then let someone else run the Savage Saviors. At least I would die knowing Eve was free, safe, and away from the demon Rock.

But she had not accepted such a fate. She had saved me.

I couldn’t say it enough. She had saved me.

For all that I’d done for her, I never expected anything like that.

But here I was, awake before noon, my throat scratchy and sore and my body in a bit of pain—when I moved my shoulder, I remembered I’d taken a bullet there—but alive. Alive because of her.

She had saved me.

Unbelievable.

I suppose the least I could do is get up and cook her some food.

Very gently, I leaned over, kissed her on the head, and moved away before she fully woke up. It took a great deal more effort to move than I wanted her to see, at least this early in the morning, as my entire body seemed to still have the smoke from last night bogging it down. No matter, I thought—I would get over it soon enough.

I decided this morning demanded a celebration and I cooked just about everything I had. Eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, waffles, milk, orange juice, biscuits—if I saw it and it was breakfast food, I began cooking it. A morning like this one, in which I’d just rescued the girl I’d loved—had finally, finally confessed to saying I loved—and overcome the greatest enemy of my life deserved to hold nothing back. I needed to spill everything and celebrate in every way possible.

And, frankly, I needed to honor Roost. As weird as it might have seemed to “celebrate” the man by eating as much as I could, a man of Roost’s size would approve. If anything, with that thick twang of his, he’d tell me I was a pussy for not putting even more food in—not that it would be possible to add any more food.

Roost, buddy, I thought. Whoever takes over for you just isn’t gonna be the same.

But I bet you’re guarding Mom and Dad now wherever you are.

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