Savage Scheme
Authors: J. Woods
Savage Scheme
Nate & Libby
Savage Series Book III
J. Woods
TABLE OF CONTENTS
A Savage Series Novel, book III
Nate & Libby
Copyright 2015 J. Woods
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events and incidents either are product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Libby West was born into a criminal world.
As the estranged daughter of James West, Libby has lived her life on the run, always two steps ahead of a dangerous past that continues to haunt her shadowy existence. Knowing it’s only a matter of time before her father comes for her, Libby can’t afford any distractions. That is until one night and one dance with a dark and mysterious stranger...
As an integral part of Savage Security, Nate Savage knows nothing but chasing the adrenaline of the next mission. Not babysitting the mousy daughter of an infamous criminal...
Their only link to her father, he is determined to learn the secrets he knows she’s hiding - no matter what. Straddling the line between duty and desire, Nate finds his priorities changing when his pursuit becomes more about his unexpected hunger for the seductive woman than doing the right thing.
Now it’s up to Nate to keep her heart and his mission in one piece.
A letter from
J
.,
The mix of danger and desire are two of my favourite ingredients in a steamy romance novel.
In SAVAGE SCHEME, Nate sole focus is on the next mission, the biggest yet for Savage Security and completely staying away from that pesky four letter word. Even as he watched two of his brothers fall blissfully victim. He’s been there, done that and it didn’t work out for him. Not even close.
Libby has never known peace or acceptance let alone love - she’s a chameleon who knows danger, not the freedom she longs for. Just one night, she promises herself and one night is all it takes to make her question every rule, every secret she has ever lived by.
Writing a strong heroin and watching her overcome her struggles into finding a happy every after that makes me
swoon
was worth every outline and every chapter that ended up in the garbage! Developing Libby and Nate’s story was definitely an emotional roller coaster for me and as their relationship grew, I couldn’t help but rage and cry, laugh and smile and fall in love right along with them.
I hope reading about my Savages bring you just as much joy as they bring me writing about them.
Warm Wishes & Happy Reading!
J. Woods
Libby West checked her watch for what felt like the seventieth time in the past hour, counting the minutes until five o’clock of her repetitive, meaningless job. Looking around her cubicle she realized everything was monotone. She sat in a drab chair, surrounded by empty grey walls with a spotless matching grey desk that held a simple black phone.
“Ms. West, have you sent the reports?” Without having to look around, she could tell where her boss was, her senses so honed to his every move. His heavy step carried the weight that settled heavily in his belly as he strolled down the hall toward her desk.
“I sent them fifteen minutes ago, they should be in your inbox.”
“Great.” She looked up to see him prop himself lazily against her desk. “Have any plans for the weekend?” It was the same question he asked her every Friday and every Friday she repeated the same answer. Except today, she found herself hesitating.
“Not sure yet Bob, who knows where the night will take me.” She stood up with a grin on her face at his look of surprise, grabbed her purse and sauntered out of the office waving over her shoulder at his distant “have fun.”
Unlocking her apartment door with precision, her fingers ran over the undisturbed piece of tape before closing it softly behind her. She stood still as her eyes roamed the open concept apartment, listening to the quiet. Letting out a slow breath she reached behind her and clicked the lock into place before pulling a small device from her purse and engaging the detector. Watching the screen, she waited patiently until all five lights turned green, assuring her the apartment was clean of bugs, listening or otherwise. Moving to her bedroom she stripped herself of the navy skirt and white blouse she had worn to work and slipped into the all black bodysuit that felt as familiar as a second skin to her. Strapping on her belt followed by her thigh holster, she allowed her fingers to grip the handles of the weapons that lay heavily against her skin. Pulling her hair back into a tight braid, she grabbed the long black case that she kept underneath her bed. Hitting the remote on her bedside table, she waited while the blinds covered her windows and moved to the ladder that led to the roof ensuring to keep the lights in her apartment off. She passed a mirror on her way and stopped to stare at herself. Large grey eyes stared back at her picking up on the blonde highlights that lightened her naturally dark hair. Moving closer she pinched the specialized, seamless contact to remove it, the natural brown of her eye uncovered. Placing a hand over one-half of her face, she took a deep breath and counted to three before putting the contact comfortably back in place. She needed to know she was still there, behind the charade. There were times she didn’t recognize herself. Each city presented a new look, different eye colour, different hair colour. She would mold and manipulate the prosthetics into defined facial features, higher cheekbones, a more angular jaw while she worked magic with makeup. It was necessary, she knew, but she longed for the day she could wake up and forget the contacts and the hair and makeup. Letting out a long sigh she knew it was a fairytale. And she’d learned a long time ago that fairytales weren’t real.
The night held the remnants of a long Toronto winter, the chill in the air enough to keep her alert without any assistance from the caffeine she knew was now brewing in her kitchen. Positioning herself under the tarp, she stared through her scope onto the landscape of building tops. She didn’t always allow her paranoia to control her life, but it was in the last few months that she felt the bead on her head. Someone or rather someones had been watching her. Her neck tingled in awareness and it was those feelings that she was taught never to ignore by the man that saved her life in more ways than one.
Randall was her father’s second in command, the man he trusted more than any other, with both his personal security and that of his business. Libby couldn’t remember a time in her childhood when he wasn’t present, his hulking six foot five frame deceptively quiet as he skulked around, always keeping the bad guys at bay. She eventually realized he was one of them, but he was a bad guy on her side. There were times Randall would disappear, become invisible when he didn’t want to be found. But Libby always knew where he was. She could pick him out even when he was deliberately trying to evade her, eventually making her laugh from the shadows. It quickly turned into a game, one that became increasingly more difficult and eventually, as she grew older, she realized it wasn’t a game to Randall. He had been training her, forcing her to rely solely on her senses and knowledge of her surroundings to find him. When she confronted him on her fourteenth birthday, he acknowledged her statement with a sharp, quick nod of his head, his lack of emotion her only familiar comfort. Telling her to meet him once it got dark, after her father had retired for the evening she obliged and anticipated the thrill of secrecy. That night, Randall changed her life. For the next ten years, he had honed her into the woman she had become, teaching her to be a chameleon as she blended in and became who she needed to be to keep her safe. Eventually, the sniper scope against her eye or the weight of a knife in her hand felt more familiar, more like home than anything else did. And it was the idea of forbidden knowledge, that her father remained in the dark about all of it that kept the adrenaline surging through her veins.
James West wasn’t a warm or caring man, nor was he an active part in her life. It was his business that held the top spot and it was at a very early age that Libby learned to stop wanting her father’s attention. His child was more of a burden than anything else, an accidental slip up with his wife. When she died, he kept his daughter mostly secluded in their home, designated to certain wings of his cold mansion. It wasn’t soon after she turned twenty-four that Randall slipped into her room and before he could wake her she was up and out of bed, preparing herself for the intrusion.
“You have to go sweet pea.” The nickname was the only form of endearment he ever used, and even in his accented monotone, her heart grabbed onto it tighter each time.
“Why?” she asked with determination.
“James has been asking about you. He has been more secretive, more elusive about telling me what he is planning. All I know is that he had a meeting earlier this week and now there are murmurs of the production of a new drug and needing testers. I don’t like it sweet pea and I want you out of here. I should have done this a long time ago. Pack a bag quickly, only what you need, there is an aircraft waiting for you leaving in forty-five minutes.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine, I always am. Hurry.”
She didn’t bother packing a bag with clothes. She grabbed the black duffle bag that contained all of her weapons, pulled on a pair of loose cargo pants and a tank top before standing in front of him knowing her life, this life she had been living was now dead.
He took her to a secluded airstrip, one she didn’t even know existed and was shoved into the waiting helicopter with orders to keep moving and to stay safe. She didn’t let the big man see her fear, or the warmth that slid down her cheek. Sitting in between three of the hardest men she had ever seen she straightened her back and turned to face each of them. “So boys, where are we off to today?” The one to her left grunted and she swore the one sitting in front of her had a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A small victory, she thought.
“New York, then Canada.”
“Ah, the great white north. And what exactly am I supposed to be doing in Canada?”
“Following orders, staying safe.”
“Perfect, can’t wait,” she told him sarcastically. Turning herself away from the mercenary men who would act as her bodyguards for the trip, she rolled her eyes and stared out the window at the disappearing land below. She was trading humid nights and palm trees for snow and brutal winters. It was a trip she wasn’t looking forward to. But she would do it and without complaint because Randall asked her to. And it was the fear she saw in his eyes, the only emotion he had ever shown her that kept her moving.
It was when news of Randall’s death reached her that she felt a part of her heart shatter because she knew exactly who was responsible. Her. Two days before his death he had sent her a cryptic message that contained only two words -
stay hidden.
She knew then that Randall died because he refused to tell her father where she’d escaped to, that his loyalty lay with Libby. She couldn’t be present at his funeral knowing her father had men looking for her. She felt the painful memories encroaching, something they were doing more often than not, her ability to push them away becoming harder and harder.
Libby stood at the top of the hill, a stray tear escaping as she looked onto the lonely funeral below her. She wiped at her cheek, her heart laying in pieces at her feet. She watched as they lowered the basic casket into the ground, a casket she paid for, anonymously, of course. She couldn’t let her father know where she was. She knew he had men trolling the cemetery, hoping she would show up to Randall’s funeral. She was there, she had to be. She owed Randall so much more than attendance at this funeral. She owed him her life. Because he gave his for hers. She knew that, down to her core when she’d received word Randall had been murdered. Randall was too good to get caught with his pants down. There was only one way Randall would have ever allowed anyone have the upper hand. If her life was at stake. He wasn’t a warm man, but he was all she had in this world. And now he was gone. Because of her. Libby felt the guilt down to her bones and it was a burden she would carry for the rest of her days. The only man who cared about her, took her under his wing chose her life before his. Her breath hitched knowing she couldn’t pay proper respects to the only man she cared for. James West was her father, but Randall provided a guiding comfort and showed her direction and if not warmth, survival. She knew Randall had a shady past, he’d told her about some of the stories that made him the man he was. Some scared her and some interested her. But he’d trained her to become a machine with no room for feminine wants or emotions. Libby knew nothing of frilly skirts or manicured nails. She’d never played in makeup as a young girl or dressed in her mother’s heels. Instead she knew only the personification and the habits of a cold hearted soldier. In the end, Randall had told her he feared not for who she was but who he’d created. He’d feared he’d stolen all humanity from the young girl he pulled out of the dungeon so many years ago.
She was nine and like every other day, she wandered around the grounds of her father’s compound searching for something that would cure her boredom. She played a game with herself, sneaking around the guards that patrolled the grounds to see if she would get caught. She would count how many steps it took and try and beat her previous record. Slipping past one silently, she giggled to herself before finding herself looking at a part of the house she’d never seen before. Her father was very strict and assured the staff who was to be looking after her would only allow access to certain parts of the property. It was clear he had no idea how easily escapable they were. The heavy door looked ominous and called to her curiosity. She could see it had been left slightly ajar and without thinking, she pushed it open and stepped inside. The hallway led to a darkened stairwell, the air cold and damp. Chills ran down her spine and she found herself looking behind her toward the open door that led to sunlight and security. Hearing the mumbling of voices, she decided to creep closer toward the sound. She pressed her hand against the cold cement wall, staring at her palm when it came away wet. The hallway in front of her was illuminated by a dim light. Deep painful groans echoed against the walls and as she stepped around the corner she stood frozen, unable to move. The sight before her was horrifying. Two men hung chained from the ceiling, their arms stretched above their heads as blood ran in steady streams from the wounds on their faces. A small man in a white lab coat moved toward the third, a woman who was strapped to a chair with a large needle who began screaming at him to stop. Libby squeezed her eyes shut, her hands immediately covering her ears in an effort to stop the terrifying sounds. At the same time, a large arm circled her waist, lifting her off the ground, and before she could scream his other hand clamped securely over her mouth as he dragged her out of what could only be described as a dungeon. She kept her eyes closed. If she didn’t see it maybe it wasn’t happening. Her feet hit the ground as he spun her around.
“Open your eyes, girl.” His deep voice made her wince in fear. Slowly opening her eyes, she was forced to crane her neck in order to stare into the face that remained hardened for as long as she knew him. He was around all the time, and he never smiled. He spoke really fast and had a funny accent. He didn’t seem like a nice person, especially to a nine-year-old, but she never heard him yell. On the contrary, she was surprised her father’s voice wasn’t permanently hoarse. “You’re not supposed to be over here.” She shook her head, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. He crouched down letting out a rough breath. “I want you to try and forget what you saw in there. Can you do that?” She felt her eyes fill with tears as she nodded her head quickly. “Put the tears away. Tears aren’t going to get you anywhere in this life, either you do something about your situation or you don’t. There is no room for tears in the equation.” She swiped at her cheeks and sucked in a deep breath in an effort to abide by his commands. “Good. Now, you run along and don’t tell anyone what you saw today and I won’t tell Daddy that I found you here. He wouldn’t be too happy about that.”
“Okay,” she agreed. She turned to run around him, back the way she came.
