Filthy Savage: Chapter 17
Filthy Savage: An Irish Mafia Age Gap Single Mom Romance (Savage Kings Book 3)
âIâm sorry, but at this point, weâre not gonna find her.â
In a split second, I have Scottyâs throat in my grasp, squeezing the shit out of it. Heâs the head of IT here at Caellach. Heâs supposed to be able to find her.
âBack the fuck away.â Tynan grabs my arm and forces me back, my anger spiraling. âWhat the hell are you doing?â he shouts, clutching my shoulders while my breaths howl out of me. âYouâve gotta stop.â
He tries to reason with me, but all I see is her. Those eyes. They fucking haunt me.
âI need to find her. Iâm not gonna stop until I do.â
âWeâve tried everything.â He sighs. âItâs impossible. You need to accept that sheâs not looking to be found. You need to forget her.â
âNever gonna happen,â I grit, shoving him off me. âStay out of my way if youâre not gonna help.â My attention reverts to Scotty. âGive me every Emily Daniels you have on file. Iâll personally go to every single one since you canât fucking do your job.â
The whole IT room stares at me like Iâve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
âI just emailed it to you,â he says.
Turning back, I start to head out, but Tynanâs voice stops me.
âYouâre spiraling, man.â
âIf this was Elara, you would be too.â
Fuck them all.
SIX MONTHS LATER
Sheâs the last Emily Daniels on my list. If itâs not her, then itâs over. Iâve followed every single one of them and have been disappointed every time.
Why the hell canât I find her?
Sheâs not a damn ghost.
Gripping the steering wheel, I squeeze until my knuckles go white. âFuuuck!â
My inhales pound through my chest as I push the door open and get out, heading for the small, quaint coffee shop this Emily works at.
When I walk in, there are a few people behind the counter, all of them around Emilyâs age. But none of them are her.
Sheâs not here.
Sheâs nowhere!
âGod damn it!â I bang a fist on the wall behind me, and every single person here stares at me.
âUh, may I help you, sir?â one of the girls asks.
âNo,â I mutter, catching her nametag.
Emily.
She doesnât even look like my little rabbit.
I need to get the hell out of here before I turn this entire place upside down.
When I find my Emily, sheâs gonna pay for this, and sheâll never escape me again.
TWO YEARS LATER
âWhere the hell is our money?!â I slam a fist into some assholeâs nose, breaking it again.
He spits out blood, holding out his hands as though thatâll do anything.
My brothers stand behind me, letting me do all the work. They know I need it. Itâs the only way I donât think about her. About how Iâve failed. It fucking haunts me every damn day.
Itâs been four years, and Iâve not been able to forget her. Itâs like a curse, and I canât rid myself of it. When I shut my eyes, itâs like sheâs there, conjured up in my subconscious as though sheâs actually standing right in front of me with that same baby-blue sundress she wore the day of Tynanâs wedding.
Reaching into my pocket, I fist her panties, the only connection I have to her. My heart races, my body buzzing with rage.
Heading toward the wooden table in the storage room on our farm, I pick up a chainsaw. As soon as he sees it, he begs for his life.
âPlease, I swear, I donât know! I donât know!â
He chokes on a sob, but itâs too late. The vroom of the chain feeds the sickness in me, decaying day by day.
âI donât believe you.â
The teeth saw into his thigh as he howls in pain, but I donât stop there. I donât stop until heâs nothing but sawed-off pieces of flesh, rotting as much as I am.