Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Savannah…
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I grabbed the nearest thing which happened to be a trash can and stuck it under the steady drip coming from my bedroom ceiling.
“Goddamnit!” I muttered with a gusty sigh, as the steady rough downpour outside was thrust into the trees outside and lashed the glass of the high window in here.
It was just a passing thunderstorm, but it was coming down hard enough that the leak had started again.
I rose my phone to take a picture for the useless landlord when a text came through.
Synister would like an audience. Thursday night. I’ll pick you up at your office at 6:30. This is one of those times that I call and you answer, Bright Eyes. No argument, please.
“Just fucking great,” I mumbled, and I checked my calendar right then and there. Would wonders never cease? I was open. I quickly took the time to block it off before Fabian had the chance to schedule anything and with a gusty sigh, got back to taking pictures and texting the slumlord.
Then, and only then, did I text Corvus back.
I’m free. I sent, then thought about it a moment or two and nibbling my bottom lip, I texted again.
Any way I can stay at your place tonight?
The leak was just oh-so-conveniently over my bed. So, it was either that, or I was sleeping on my couch.
I didn’t get a reply, and I sighed out harshly.
I shouldn’t have asked… I really… “Dammit,” I muttered and I shook my head.
If he didn’t get back to me by the time I was ready to turn in, then the couch it was.
I went into the living room and curled up under my throw, the little heater going in the fireplace and I turned on the television. I was on my laptop when a loud crack of thunder sounded, and then everything went out.
“Son of a bitch!” I screamed at the moldy ceiling. The glow from my laptop screen the only thing illuminating my darkened living room.
I checked and made sure it was alright and didn’t take a hit from a power surge, even though I kept it plugged in to a surge protector.
Satisfied it was still in working order – just stuck with no internet, which I needed, I took up my phone, and used its flashlight to go check the small breaker box in the bedroom, hoping against hope that it was just a flipped breaker and the power wasn’t out, out.
No such fucking luck.
I sighed and lit my three-wick candle. It was dark by now, and the little light it gave off made things seem a little less ominous.
I cuddled on my couch under the throw, and must have nodded off – because it was super dark, the candle barely doing anything against it anymore when I sat up sharply.
I didn’t know what’d woken me, and so I sat still, ears straining, listening intently. A rapping came at my front door, and I leaped to my feet.
I swear to God, if the lazy-ass fucking slumlord deigned to answer any single one of my texts or complaints about this place and he showed up to fix it in the middle of the night, I was going to lose my shit!
Considering nobody even knew where I lived, it was the only thought to enter my brain as to who would be knocking at my door – I checked my watch, at nearly midnight on a Tuesday fucking night!
I ripped open the door and immediately quailed as it wasn’t my diminutive landlord standing on my stoop, but Corvus.
“How did you find me?” I blurted, and he cocked his head.
He looked past me and looked down at me.
“You got somebody in there?” he demanded.
“What? No!” I cried. “What are you even doing here?”
“I missed your text about crashing at my place. You didn’t answer your phone so I used the tracking software I have on it to find you.”
“You bugged my phone?” I demanded, aghast.
“Technically it was the club’s phone before it was yours, and no – it’s not like I’ve been listening to you or your phone calls. It just has GPS tracking software on it. What’s going on? You live here?”
He took a step off the sagging porch and looked up and around.
“My power went out,” I said unhappily, trying to come to grips with the whole being tracked thing.
“Let me in, Savannah,” he said gravely, and I huffed a breath and stood aside. He brushed past me and froze just inside my apartment.
“What’s that dripping, the sink?” he asked as I shut the door on the darkened neighborhood and the cool night air.
“My bedroom roof,” I said unhappily.
“The fuck is going on here?” he demanded.
“Don’t,” I said sharply.
“No, I want answers. This place is a shithole, Savannah. How long have you lived here like this?”
“Since I moved here,” I said defensively. “And it is not. I did most of the inside myself.”
“Baby, we’re in real estate. Be so for fucking real right now! You can polish a turd, but it’s still just a turd at the end of the day. I highly doubt this place would even pass inspection!”
“It’s what I can afford! Alright! What would you know about it?” I demanded.
“Everything, if you would let me in and tell me,” he said quietly, and I jerked back as though I’d been slapped.
Ouch.
“It’s just sex, Corbett. Don’t pretend now that you want something with me other than that!” I snapped.
He looked… hurt.
“I deserved that,” he said, and he sniffed. He looked around and tried a light switch. Power was still down.
He raked a hand back through his hair which was as messy as I’d ever seen it, and moved like a storm cloud through the house. It was then that I realized he wasn’t dressed like I normally saw him, in one of his expensive suits.
No, this wasn’t Corbett, this was Corvus…
and he looked every inch the badass biker from the boots that thudded dully against my cement floor, to the rugged jeans and leather chaps on his legs.
He wore a zipped up thick leather biker jacket, and the Iron Wraith’s vest over that and it made me back against the wall, leaning heavily on it because Lord! The man was fine.
He turned to look at me and shook his head. “What is this?” he asked. “You do as well if not better than me at the real estate game. You should be making money in the fucking millions. Is old man Beauregard holding out on you? What?” he demanded.
“No! No, it’s not like that,” I said unhappily, and I scrubbed my face with my hands.
“Then what is it?” he asked.
“You first,” I said stalling for time. “Why Corvus?”
“My laugh, for one—” he said. “My ability to hold a grudge for another.”
I frowned at him.
“I love your laugh,” I said and his eyebrows went up in the dim golden light.
“Stop stalling,” he ordered.
“My family is in deep with the IRS,” I said. “Every bit of extra is going to Uncle Sam to keep the family home and to take care of my grandma. She has memory issues, dementia. She needs round-the-clock care and my mom can’t do everything as much as she would like to.”
He stood, hands flexing in and out of fists.
“Throw some shit together. You’re coming home with me,” he said.
“Seriously?” I blinked.
“Pack a bag, Kitten. Before I change my mind.”
I gave a haughty and somewhat incredulous laugh and crossed my arms.
“I knew this would happen,” I said bitterly.
“What?” he demanded.
“That you would look at me differently if you knew I didn’t come from money,” I said.
He nodded slowly and said, “You’re right. I respect you more – now pack some shit. I’m not leaving you here.”
I stood frozen, and he looked at me, his expression harsh and yet inscrutable.
It was then that any argument I could have made became an entirely moot point, because with a loud groan and a crack, I swear the whole little house shuddered and we both stood staring at each other wide-eyed and confused.
I went in the direction of the sound, which had come from my bedroom, and the smell of mold, mildew, and rot shoved me back a half a pace and right into the wall of Corvus’ chest as he was right behind me.
“Holy fuck,” he muttered, and I stared wide-eyed at the collapsed ceiling, old insulation and gross water pouring onto my bed and the floor.
“Son of a bitch!” I screamed, and I doubled over with the force of it, even as Corvus pulled me back out of the doorway and shoved me in the direction of the living room.
“You don’t know if there’s asbestos,” he said and I covered my face with my hands and tried like hell to breathe.
“I can’t do this,” I said, shaking my head.
He gripped me by my shoulders and said, “You can. You’re not alone. Let me help you.”
I sniffed and stared at him, which there barely was an “up” when we were both standing. He was only a couple of inches taller than me. Still, the way he held such a commanding presence, it felt like so much more than that.
“Get your shit together for work. I’ll try and rescue some shit out of your closet and drawers.”
He pulled out his phone and called someone, putting it between his ear and his shoulder as he marched into my room.
I stood there and blinked for several seconds, before I got moving.
Laptop, briefcase, keys, purse, and phone. I silently repeated the checklist in my head as I gathered the items from their various places around the house.
Corvus came out of my room and hung up his phone, shoving it into his back pocket. He had a bunch of my things on hangars, and my overnight bag in his other hand.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“Jag is in the garage,” I said tiredly, and he nodded.
“Put some shoes on. It’s muddy out there and there’s no telling what tetanus is lurking and waiting to happen.”
“Shit,” I grumbled. I slipped on some ballet flats and belted my cozy robe tight.
I followed him out into the night, and unlatched and wrestled the old garage door up.
He looked stunned as I keyed open my trunk.
We sort of just unceremoniously dumped everything into it, he shut the lid, and knocked on it twice.
“Follow me to my place,” he said.
“Who did you call?” I asked.
“Nobody you need to concern yourself with,” he said. “Let’s go.”
I watched him trail out to the front of the drive and climb aboard his motorcycle.