Savage: Vixen Bluff, #3

By Catherine Black

One free-spirited tree hugger running from grief.
One technology-addicted IT manager on the road to self-discovery.
6 states. 1200 miles. 1 cramped SUV.
What could possibly go wrong?

***

Skyler

I never thought I'd lose the best thing to ever happen to me...and then I did. Without my best friend at my side, the world drains of color and the commune I grew up in no longer feels like home. So I give into the wanderlust plaguing my heart and set out to rid myself of the grief hanging onto my soul like beggar's lice. Then he sits down in front of me in a small roadside diner and everything changes.

Reed is high-strung, materialistic, and shows little to no interest in the world around him, which is the only reason I take him under my wing. I'm bound and determined to teach him how to embrace the hideous beauty that comes with each sunrise, as well as the bliss and heartache that passes with each sunset. But it's hard as hell to learn anything new about life when you're weighed down by a secret, and Reed Stanley's has the power to ruin everything.

Reed

I don't stand a chance with a gypsy witch like Skyler Kassamali, but I don't care. Her tattoos and piercings are enough to intimidate me, but there's something else to her—a sharp sadness—that draws me in and refuses to let go. But she's so much more than a shattered heart lost on a grief-fueled adventure and I want to know her best-kept secrets, all while never revealing my own.

But secrets have a way of undoing you, whether you want them to or not, and despite all my shortcomings, Skyler sees something in me and takes a chance. On an adventure that brings us both to our knees, she teaches me the greatest lesson of all: No matter how convincing the smile is, no matter how untarnished the skin seems to be, no matter how we bend and fold to conform—inside, we're all a little savage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catherine Black
• Release date: Jul 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386543404

Book preview

Other Books by C. Black

The Deep

Comatose

Kink

About the Book

SKYLER

I never thought I'd lose the best thing to ever happen to me...and then I did. Without my best friend at my side, the world drains of color and the commune I grew up in no longer feels like home. So I give into the wanderlust plaguing my heart and set out to rid myself of the grief hanging onto my soul like beggar's lice. Then he sits down in front of me in a small roadside diner and everything changes.

Reed is high-strung, materialistic, and shows little to no interest in the world around him, which is the only reason I take him under my wing. I'm bound and determined to teach him how to embrace the hideous beauty that comes with each sunrise, as well as the bliss and heartache that passes with each sunset. But it's hard as hell to learn anything new about life when you're weighed down by a secret, and Reed Stanley's has the power to ruin everything.

Reed

I don't stand a chance with a gypsy witch like Skyler Kassamali, but I don't care. Her tattoos and piercings are enough to intimidate me, but there's something else to her—a sharp sadness—that draws me in and refuses to let go. But she's so much more than a shattered heart lost on a grief-fueled adventure and I want to know her best-kept secrets, all while never revealing my own.

But secrets have a way of undoing you, whether you want them to or not, and despite all my shortcomings, Skyler sees something in me and takes a chance. On an adventure that brings us both to our knees, she teaches me the greatest lesson of all: No matter how convincing the smile is, no matter how untarnished the skin seems to be, no matter how we bend and fold to conform—inside, we're all a little savage.

For Chris

PROLOGUE

Skyler

SHE'S DYING.

My greatest fear is no longer something I lie awake at night dreading. Now, it's my new reality.

Helpless, I watch as May—the girl who makes life better just by breathing—fiddles with the tubes strung across her cheeks as her body loses the fight. Breathing, that thing that makes my world go 'round, isn't as easy for her as it was in our youth and I have to wonder what will happen to this world once her lungs cease to function. When I'm not at her side, when I'm not obligated to keep a smile on my face for her sake, I see it. The sun falls from the sky, the moon breaks off into jagged shards, and gravity gives out. I watch the Atlantic Ocean ascend to the heavens, drop by drop, until there's nothing left.

But this isn't about me.

The pain May often tries to hide terrifies me and I'd take it all from her in an instant if I could, because the idea of transferring her struggle into my body isn't scary. Not one bit. It doesn't breed fear in my heart. My only fear is losing her.

Two nurses scurry around the cramped hospital room, tapping out notes on electronic charts while quietly chatting about a movie they want to see, but the doctor is nowhere to be found. Not that I'm surprised. Why would he waste time in this room? Unlike some of his other patients, May is a lost cause, circling the drain. He can't fix her so all that's left to do is sit and wait.

Just as I've done in the many weeks leading up to this day, I sit next to May's bed in a threadbare chair, offering her comfort when I can and a rare laugh if I know she's up for it. When she's not messing with the tubes and wires she's connected to, I'm holding her hand in mine, offering my warmth since it's all I can give that she's willing to take.

Her husband paces next to the window, making call after call to whatever medical institute will hear him out, but the same thing happens every time he verbalizes the details of May's condition.

Twenty-eight-year-old woman.

Stage four non-small cell lung cancer.

Six months in.

Refuses chemotherapy and radiation. Non-negotiable.

Every conversation is the same, and I doubt Charles knows this, but May and I can hear their voices on the other end of the line. Pity sneaks into their professional tones and the calls all end with an apology and well wishes. This one is no different.

As soon as Charles hangs up, he's back scrolling through his phone, looking for another number to call. We all know this is it—the end—but he's not hearing it. His love for her knows no bounds. He's not giving up on her...even thought she's already given up on herself.

May and I were raised to think differently, to operate differently, and even though we're miles from the commune right now, every decision we make is colored with the lessons of our people. When May first got sick, there was never any question as to what her journey would hold. She refused to have toxins pumped into her body. Refused any drastic measures. In her eyes, this is her destiny and you don't fight destiny. She's had months to prepare and now it's just a matter of letting the seconds pass by until it's time to go home to The Summerland, the final resting place.

I don't want to let her go. Everything inside of me is screaming for her to fight harder, to hold on longer, but deep inside, in the corner of my heart where our friendship resides, I get it. Our connection has always been strong, so when she looks up at me with those bright blue eyes and tells me everything is going to be okay, I believe her.

Charles, on the other hand...

Can I please tell him to sit his ass down? I ask. Or at the very least take his coffee away?

May's eyes cross the room to Charles. His white shirt has a mustard stain on the breast pocket and his maroon tie is rumpled. He continues to rake a hand through his hair, making the poor guy look like he french kissed an electrical socket.

No, May says softly, her chapped lips turning up into a smile. He's doing what he does best.

What, raising his blood pressure?

She giggles, then a coughing fit takes over and she reaches for my hand. I hold on tight as she fights to catch her breath. When she's finally settled back against her pillow, pulling in deep lungfuls of oxygen through the tubes in her nose, she looks to me and all mirth drains from her eyes.

I need you to promise me something, Skyler.

I shake my head, knowing exactly where her thoughts have landed. Stop it. We can hash out all the—

Skyler Jasmine Kassamali, you shut up and listen to me, she hisses, cutting me off. After a few deep breaths, her eyes harden and she waves me in close so she can whisper. I'm literally on my death bed right now, so if you could shut up and let me talk, that'd be great.

Blinking back tears, I nod. Shutting up.

May clears her throat and the wet, rattling sound jars me. I know it's tempting to stay planted because the commune is safe and familiar and the people there are easy to trust, but there's more to life than what's inside that fence, Skyler. I know for a fact there's more, and I don't want you to settle.

Okay. Talking about leaving the commune is a sore subject between us—probably the only sore subject to ever come up in our twenty-plus years of friendship.

Promise me, she urges. No matter how happy you are, if you think there's something better for you out there, if you think you deserve more, then walk away. Get away from this place for a while. Go to school, travel, join the circus, I don't care, just be free. Go out and fall in love, over and over again. Be a vixen. Just...promise me you'll do something, because I'll be damned if I have to spend my first few decades in the afterlife bitching at you from a cloud because you can't make anything but lame, candy-ass decisions. Are you hearing me?

I'm hearing you, I say, laughing through tears.

We've had a million discussions like this one over the last few months and they always come at the weirdest of times. When we're in the middle of meditating. When she's watching a movie and the killer is about to slice and dice his first victim. When she's peeing. When I'm peeing. Come to think of it, we've had a lot of discussions in the bathroom. Maybe because that's one of the few places Charles doesn't hover.

But the little pep talk she just gave me feels different somehow. I don't know if it's because we're in a hospital or because her doctor all but bowed out and wished us the best of luck, but her words bury themselves into my soul like dandelion seeds. What she gave me is so much more than simply friendly advice. I know May, so I know a goodbye when I see one.

Beautiful blue eyes close and a pained expression slashes across May's face. Her hand squeezes mine hard—harder than it has in months—and panic flares in my chest, hot and unyielding. I hold her back just as hard, clinging to her, hoping that if anything in this world can save her, love can. Because it's all we have left.

May...May!

My friend cracks one eyelid open and grins. Relax, woman. I'm not dead yet.

No, but I may be soon if she doesn't stop. Every time her eyes close, I hold my breath and wonder if they'll ever open again.

Don't be an ass. I blow out a shaky, relieved sigh just as someone clears their throat from the doorway. Turning to glance over my shoulder, I see the woman May and I have dubbed 'Nurse Killjoy'.

Visiting hours are over, she announces in the haughty tone I've come to loathe.

I smile as sweetly as possible. That's good to know. Thank you. Then I turn back to May.

She can try to get rid of me all she wants, but until an armed guard comes through that door and physically removes me from the room, I'm not leaving.

May sees my resolve and rolls her eyes. Go home, Skyler. She swats weakly at my arm. Get some sleep in a decent bed for once.

I shake my head. Nice try, but I have no intention of leaving this room. This is where I belong.

May's lips tremble. Until I kick the bucket.

No, I snap. Until you're ripped from my hands.

Charles ends his call in the corner, only for his phone to ring before he can stuff it in his pocket. I roll my eyes as he holds up one finger to May, telling her he's taking the call out in the hallway and he'll be right back. She waves and he leaves. After a beat of silence, something shifts in the room. It's quiet. Still. As if the walls themselves are holding their breath, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Thank you, Skyler.

Suddenly, I see something new in May's eyes. Fear. It's so out of character, I think I misread her face, but no, it's there.

It's gonna be okay. I've muttered that line probably a thousand times since this all began, and although some days I believe it, there are other days—days like today—when I wouldn't believe it even if Jesus, Buddha, and Zeus came out of the clouds to tell me so. Just close your eyes and get some rest. I'll be right here the whole time.

Will you tell the elders I'm sorry? Please? Her request jars me because this is something new. We almost never talk about the commune since it hurts her heart to remember everything she left behind, so now I'm thoroughly scared. If she's talking about it now... Tell my mama I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't mean for everything to end up like this. I didn't. I was so selfish.

Her shoulders begin to shake with silent sobs and I grab hold of her shoulder, clinging to the prominent bone just beneath her skin. You weren't selfish, May, you were in love. There's a big difference.

Her head lolls from side to side. I know, but it still wasn't right. I was just scared. Terrified of waking up thirty years in the future and being in the exact same place with the exact same people. That's why I ran.

Yeah, ass, I remember, I say, joking. If you'd have waited a whopping ten minutes for me to pack my shit, I'd have run with you.

Thinking back on that day, there's not a doubt in my mind I would have left with her. But she didn't think I was ready to leave. The note left on my bed said it all. I read her beautiful cursive handwriting and knew everything was going to change. My best friend couldn't stay in the commune we called home. She'd found something more than the life she was told to lead.

She found love.

As much as I wanted to be angry with her for that, I couldn't. Especially not once I met Charles and saw the way he looked at her, as if she was the center of the universe.

I love you, Sky-High, May whispers, using the nickname she invented years ago, back when life didn't seem quite so scary. I love you more than I've ever loved anything.

I bite back a sob. Love you too, May-Day.

Take care of Ernie for me?

My eyes travel to the small basket hidden in the corner. You can't tell what's in there and if the nurses found out they'd have a fit, but I'm honored that May trusts me with the life bundled in those blankets.

Of course I'll take care of him.

Don't let Charles take him. She chuckles, the sound hoarse and wet. He'll try, bless that man, but Ernie would chew him up and spit him out.

He's coming with me. My voice rings of finality. Actually, the entire situation rings of finality, and I hate it.

May closes her eyes and blesses me with a genuine smile. This one isn't pained or forced and in the curve of her lips is a peace I find terrifying.

You're an angel, she says softly.

I slap a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out at this injustice. Soon, that's exactly what she'll be.

Sleep finally settles over her features, making her look so much younger, even though she's already far too young to be here. Nurses come and go, Charles continues to tap away at his phone, and inside my chest, a war rages. My head tells me that these things happen, that death is as natural as birth, but my heart is telling me that it's not fair. My head says I have to be strong, I have to keep going, I have to find a way to survive without her. But my heart...my heart gets it. That stubborn bastard beats wildly, trying to come to terms with the fact that we're about to live in a world where May doesn't exist and it can't—it can't do it. May has to live for the world to spin. Without her...dammit. Without her, what's the point?

A monitor begins chirping, shrill and obnoxious, and May's team of nurses shuffle in. They brush me away and for once I let them. Standing against the wall, I watch as they begin working her over. The sound of my heartbeat fills my ears, making it impossible to hear what's happening, but I stare at May's face and I see the little girl who taught me how to dance. I see the teenager who showed me how to rebel. And I see the woman who taught me to love. Then my eyes venture lower, down to where her chest is rising and falling with shallow breaths.

It falls limply, then rises with a struggle, fighting against the weight of the entire world.

Falls...rises.

Falls...rises.

Falls...

...

...

...

CHAPTER ONE

Skyler

YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!

My father paces back and forth along my borrowed SUV, shaking his head as if this is the worst thing I've ever done. I ignore the disappointment lacing his voice, telling myself he doesn't understand. Perhaps he'll never understand. I'm not like him, content spending days picking tomatoes and sitting around a fire at night solving all the woes of the world. The fences surrounding our commune don't feel like shield of safety. In fact, they're beginning to feel more and more like prison walls, holding me captive. Pain is my cellmate. Grief the warden.

I have to get out of here. For her.

Ignoring his rant, I continue rearranging my bags in the back, mentally counting down the seconds until I can get on the road. Every cent I've ever squirreled away from private craft sales and my yearly split of commune profits is tucked away inside my bag. My ticket out of this place.

First May, and now you? he continues. What the hell did I do to raise such ungrateful children? I put a roof over your head, fed you, clothed you, and this is how you repay me? By running off in the middle of the night?

My eyes sting at the mention of my best friend, but I tamp down those feelings of devastation and turn on my father. Okay, first off, it's six in the morning. And May wasn't yours to raise, so please stop acting like she had any obligation to you whatsoever.

His oval face flames, but at the same time, there's hurt in his eyes. She wasn't mine by blood, no, but I still made sure she had everything she needed ten minutes before she needed it.

That softens my heart because he's right. Even though May insisted the absence of her birth father had no bearing on the way she lived her life, my father was always there to offer his time and a listening ear.

And I love you for that, Daddy, I really do, but that still doesn't negate the fact that she's gone and I'm still here and this... I look around at the cluster of simple houses, clotheslines draped with tapestries, a myriad of cars up on blocks, and smoldering campfires. It looks, feels, and smells like my childhood. A childhood with May. This isn't all there is to life, Daddy. It can't be. So before I get bogged down like May did and do something drastic, I need to get away. Just for a little while.

You don't think this is drastic? he says, flinging thick arms out at his sides. Abandoning your family?

Good gravy, this man is a diva.

Birch Kassamali is everything a daughter could ever want in a father. He's strong, open-minded, trustworthy, and has more wisdom crowding his brain than I could ever hope to accumulate. And like me, he too suffered a loss, so I understand why he's all but begging me to stay, but that just isn't an option anymore. After all, I made a promise.

You're making mountains out of molehills, I point out. "I'm not abandoning anyone. This isn't me leaving for good. It's me striking out on my own. Temporarily. I need a chance to give into the wanderlust, find my zen, follow my heart. I mean, everyone else in this damn commune has come and gone more times than I can count, so why not me, Daddy, huh? Why are you so reluctant to let me pass through those gates?"

Because you're way too much like your gypsy mother, he grumbles.

And there it is. The real problem.

Before I came into their lives, my parents were the ultimate free spirits, traveling whenever the urge struck, never planning out a single second of their lives, going wherever the wind pushed them. And then I came along. Birch may have been ready to grow roots here, but my mother was another story. It took a lot of convincing, and if I've read into the story correctly, exactly nine months of begging on my father's part. Now she's a fixture in our small community, and although her eyes come alive at the mention of life outside the gates, she stays. I don't think she resents me or my father, but the wanderlust is strong with that one.

I cast my eyes to the house my parents share, a small three room affair with a tin roof and mismatched siding, knowing my mother Jayla is inside making breakfast.

Having a gypsy soul isn't such a bad thing. Maybe you should indulge her wanderlust every once in a while.

His eyes widen comically and he grins, waving toward their front door. Well, by all means, feel free to clear a spot for her. I'll tell her to pack a bag.

We stare each other down as the sun dances its slow waltz across the sky. He knows I don't want her to go with me and I know he doesn't want her to go, so this is really just a test. One we both fail.

Yeah, that's not happening. I pull my eyes away from my childhood home and open the driver's side door.

Skyler. My father grabs hold of my arm, stopping me. His green eyes—eyes so much like my own—tell a story when I stare into their depths. Love. Bravery. Loyalty. Shock. Grief. Need... Stay. You're not the only one grieving here.

Although his plea is innocent enough, the words pierce me with guilt. Leaving may be selfish, but it's the right thing to do. It's what May would have done if our situations were reversed. It's what she always wanted for me—to get out of the commune, follow my own compass—but she did it and look how well that worked out for her. She was shunned. Completely. Her own mother disowned her; not because she left, but because of why and how.

We're not prisoners here, but we do have a very strict policy in our commune that others don't share, and she shattered it. When her mother looked into Charles' eyes and didn't see the kind of life she wanted for her little girl, she forbade May from marrying him. That was it. No discussion. No appeal. No compromise. May, never one to follow anyone's orders, rebelled in the worst way possible: By running off in the middle of the night. Within a week, she was married to the love of her life.

The last year of my life has been