Contents
Warning:
A Savage Kinda Love
PlayList
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Epilogue
THE END
Other Works
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Warning:
This book has descriptive acts of violence, tons of swearing, explicit sex, all of the above and then some. If you can't read past the first chapter, please stop. close the book. and move onto something else.
Thank you.
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A Savage Kinda Love
Biker/Mafia Standalone Novel
First came corruption, then came salvation...
He's the son of an international coke dealer who needs a wife to secure his family fortune.
I'm the daughter of a convicted outlaw who needs his money to help pay off a high debt my father still owes to his former MC.
We're complete opposites.
Night and day.
Oil and water.
Good and insanely bad... for each other.
The last thing I ever thought I would need was his help to save my family.
The last thing he ever thought he could want was mine, along with me.
When push came to shove, we knew all we'd ever have from now until death was each other.
The only problem is that we might've been too damn late to save ourselves from the very thing that was liable to kill us both.
This is a full-length BWWM novel that will be told in first (Cheyenne) and third (Nikko) person.
Author Bio:
Kiki Leach was born and raised in Oklahoma City, OK where she still resides. As a child, she was surrounded by books, pens, and notepads, all of which she quickly took advantage of from the time she could read and write. Her favorite past-time has always been telling stories and in college, was encouraged by her mother and professors to take her storytelling more seriously.
Copyright © 2019 Kiki Leach
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.
If you're reading this book anywhere but on Amazon, you are reading a stolen copy, which is a federal crime.
First Edition: June 2018
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
PlayList
Madonna - Secret
Awolnation - Sail
Billie Eilish - When the Party's Over
Hozier - Take Me to Church
Rihanna - Kiss it Better
Fall Out Boy - Beat It (Cover)
Tom Odell - Can't Pretend
Latch - Natalie Taylor
Mashup Germany - Down With All the Sober Freaks
Jesse Ware - Say You Love Me
Ed Sheeran - Photograph
Pink ft. Nate Ruess - Just Give Me a Reason
Ben Cox - So Cold
Donny Hathaway - A Song For You
Timothy Bloom feat V. Bozeman - 'Til The End Of Time
Dedication
A love letter for those hoping to fall into it.
Someday, somehow, if you haven't already, you'll find your happy.
And when you do, hold on for dear life, and never let it go.
Prologue
It's been said that everything in life happens to us for a reason.
At least that's the lie they continue to sell.
The same one we often manage to tell ourselves to keep breathing in times of chaos and utter destruction, to keep our heads floating above choppy waters in the face of reckless drowning.
It's the lie that keeps on giving, the one that keeps us awake at night as we cling to hope in search of a hidden truth. It echoes from beneath the surface of a fear we've created in sin; from beneath a world we've often neglected in the spirit of seeking undeserved salvation.
To say that what we do, who we are and what we know makes us into who we will eventually become is a frightening enough concept to rattle the spirits of those who've gone before us, and fracture the bones of those still here to witness undoing.
If truth has meaning and life has value, mine came in the form of a man who claimed to love me, and nearly ended with the promise of a man who finally did.
Chapter One
A Burning World
I first learned of Nikko Girabaldi's existence while visiting my father at Rikers during one of the hottest summers ever on record for New York City.
He was twenty-seven and on his second pack of Marlboro Lights after being allowed back into the yard post solitary confinement for nearly strangling a guard to death with barbed wire and a homemade razor. I was twenty-three and on my last break of the year from the University of Southern California's Film School.
When he noticed me staring at him from inside the family room, all six-foot-three of him and shirtless to boot, his entrancing hazel eyes, like two pools of freshly poured honey, glittered with the look of a determined man never down on his luck for too long even when he knew he was out; a man who was well aware of what he wanted from another person and prime to get it no matter the cost or who he had to hurt in order to have it for himself; a man who might've been of few words but knew all the right ones to say in order to get what he needed from anyone around him at the moment, especially from women.
Realizing I had no desire to turn away anytime soon, his thick black brows interspersed with dashes of year-old scars, lifted high up on his forehead and he blinked once. After plucking another cigarette from his pack before even finishing the first one hanging from the corner of his mouth, he
flashed a quick smile that flushed various parts of his olive tone like a blooming red rose and turned his back on me to quickly light up.
I folded my arms and leaned into the window to get a better look at him from behind. To absorb the giant red numbers plastered across his sweaty bare back in block letters and admire the length of his jet black curls as they lightly brushed across his thickly broad shoulders in the wind; to inhale the wildly insane trail of white smoke emerging from the corner of his full pink lips as he blew it out into the air with ease, all the while wishing to God I knew exactly what that harsh scent tasted like on my own tongue.
I took note of how he carelessly flexed the muscles of his tattoo laced arms after lowering his hands back down to his waist to adjust his orange pants; and how each one bulged out from every side imaginable while greeting a fellow, much older inmate named 'Dog' with a lowered handshake and smile that was much deeper than what I had just seen from him two seconds before. His eyes appeared to darken as well, though the color of his irises remained intact; something about the look within them made my teeth chatter and clinch while my skin pricked in the way it often did whenever the police would burst through the front door of my house without warning to pick up my dad for yet another probation violation.
The two men exchanged a few words before Nikko pointed across the yard and jerked his chin. Dog nodded in response and eyed him with a curiosity that gnawed at my bones like a flesh-eating virus, then balled his right hand into a solid fist and slammed it into the palm of his left. Nikko weighed his expression before his head fell back and he barked with laughter. Dog snickered while bobbing his head again, then dropped his hands and started making his way toward a male guard standing in the center of the basketball court.
Nikko ripped both cigarettes from between his lips while watching them converse, then turned his head aside to blow out another wad of pure white smoke. When Dog turned back to him and jerked his chin, he tossed the cigarettes to the ground and unraveled a tattered orange shirt from around his waist to throw over his head. The guard dropped his hand around a gun attached to the side of his belt as soon as Nikko approached and took a step back while gulping in a fear so blatant, sweat pouring down either side of his neck in buckets practically hollered out to me in the word 'help'. Nikko's lips crinkled as he grinned and opened his hands in what looked to be a question, while Dog crossed his arms and glared, listening as he spoke.
Once finished, Nikko straightened himself and bent his head to the side. The guard quickly stared between him and Dog, then took another step back and clutched the center of his stomach while doubling over in laughter. Dog growled in response like an enraged animal aching to be loosened from his leash, then laughed for himself and spun away as Nikko moved forward and gradually eased a hand around the back of the guard's throat; he couldn't see or feel what the hell was coming next, even as Nikko snapped his spine like the center of a pencil with just a single flick of his wrist.
"Oh my God."
I jumped back and threw my hand across my mouth in a gasp, blinking only once as the guard's head drooped in the manner of a deflated balloon; my eyes began to water and burn along the edges of my eyelids in watching blood spout from his nose and mouth like a broken hydrant as he dropped to the ground face first.
No one in the yard or inside the family room seemed to give a damn about what the hell had just happened until another guard named Bruno finally ran up to the men while yelling in absolute horror, the color in his pale white cheeks bouncing between red and hot pink as his yellow stained teeth gnashed together; he wagged a giant baton high above his head while lifting his other hand to wave a fist.
Mothers and their children lept from the tables without caution as fear suddenly overtook, moving over to the window and practically engulfing me as Bruno's voice echoed across the yard in ire. Dog started laughing again while Nikko dropped back and lifted his hands palm side up in defense.
Prisoners were suddenly removed from the family room by force of other guards, yanked from chairs that fell over and beneath tables with flailing legs tangled between them. The doors latched once they were out of sight, leaving the rest of us contained as sirens started blaring across the yard and inside the building; blue and white lights flashed across the sky and concrete from large, overbearing towers surrounding each corner; inmates scattered from one end of the yard to another, slamming against wired fences and each other like a pile of fire ants that had just been showered with bug repellant meant to kill within seconds of contact.
When another male guard named Duke began racing toward them from inside the building, Nikko dropped to the ground on his knees and threw his hands behind his head, clasping his fingers to keep them steadily against himself. It was then that the previous guard, Bruno, took the opportunity to slam the center of his baton into the back of Dog's knees, forcing him to tip forward and fall headfirst into the concrete. As blood gushed from his now swollen nose and mouth, splattering onto the whitest parts of his beard, he hollered out in pain and rolled to his side. Nikko glanced over at him and started to yell out something in another language, his lips pulled back over his teeth in rage, but was stopped from going on when Bruno turned to him and slammed the butt of that baton into the side of his face.
His head whipped to the side upon impact; blood oozed from the corner of his mouth and dripped down the center of his chin, onto the collar of his tattered orange shirt. He dropped his hands and bent forward to spit out a giant red wad. A woman standing next to me gulped so loudly while watching it all unfold that I could feel it in my own throat while swallowing.
Seconds passed before another reaction emerged from one of them, this time from Dog flipping over to his back and laughing hysterically -- bellowing as blood continued pouring down the side of his face, back into his ears and greasy, chalk colored hair. Then he suddenly stopped and shoved a hand down the front of his pants, yanked out what looked to be a small blade and jumped back to his feet quicker than he had been knocked down. Bruno stepped back with his baton still in hand, but Dog was quick to find his balance again while wrapping one of his giant arms around the center of Bruno's neck, pulling him close enough to taste the sweat dripping from his chin. His head looked as if it was about to pop off and fly across the yard, his face turning puce while the whites of his eyes went dark and nearly bugged out of their sockets.
Duke stopped running almost instantly and stood back with an open mouth and flared nostrils, staring between each man in fear and awe. Nikko took advantage and placed his hands on the ground to push himself back up to his feet, then shifted his eyes across the yard as more guards came racing out from behind the fence, hollering obscenities and screaming for a jail-wide lockdown.
Other inmates who'd yet to be forced out of the yard were cheering him on to react. Dog started laughing again and chanting along with them, then squeezed Bruno's neck before lifting him high enough from the ground to dangle the tips of his toes above the weakness of his own damn shadow. While attempting to reach for his gun, he never noticed Nikko lifting his right foot from the ground but felt the result of him ramming it into the center of his crotch until blood spewed from the head of his penis, splattering across his pants like a bucket full of fresh red paint.
He hollered out in agony while trying to reach for himself.
When Duke finally jumped forward to release Bruno from Dog's grip, Nikko threw a hand across the side of his face so hard that he hollered out in the same way as Bruno while slumping to his knees. Nikko remained silent while staring down at him, then slammed the butt of his hand into the center of his face. He fell back with a hard thud, appearing dizzy as his body rolled alongside the initial guard who remained dead on the ground.
Dog loosened his arm around Bruno's neck, only to bend forward and mutter something into his ear before jamming that blade into the side of his throat like a warm knife slicing through frozen butter.
Blood gushed from beneath his chin in spurts as Dog dropped back and tos
sed the blade to the ground. With the handle of his baton now covered in his own blood, Bruno wrapped both hands around his neck while falling to his knees. His skin lightened as the veins in the whites of his eyes practically exploded around his pupils, a color that switched from green to black within seconds.
While the inmates echoed more cheers, Dog stepped in front of Nikko and smashed the base of his foot into the center of Duke's face until his features meshed like melted playdough, and he finally stopped breathing altogether.
As three dead bodies lay at the center of the courtyard, the adults surrounding me unleashed a stream of bloodcurdling cries and screams that could be heard around the city while covering the eyes and ears of their now affected children.
I remained silent, unprotected and immobile.
After pulling Dog back and bumping an elbow against his arm, Nikko dragged his foot across the concrete and muttered something that couldn't be heard beyond the fence before bending forward to drop another wad of his own spit into the blood.
As a wave of new guards hurried forward, Nikko spun on the balls of his feet and placed his hands back on top of his head. The first guard to reach him yanked at his wrists and jammed a knee into his back, forcing him back to the ground on his knees. When another guard reached Dog and forced him on his stomach, Nikko peeked over at him and bobbed his head. Dog grinned, allowing those of us in the room to see the blood staining his teeth.
After handcuffing his wrists together, along with his feet, the guard pulled a metal zip tie from the back pocket of his pants, lifted Dog's legs from the concrete at a 90-degree angle and wrapped the tie around his ankles and wrists, bounding all four of his limbs together as one.
Three more guards stepped forward to help lift him from the ground.
As they carried him out of the yard and through a wired gate on the opposite side, he called out to Nikko in a language I once heard my dad spewing on the phone when he learned he was in trouble with a man that held the fate of our family within the palm of his giant hands: Italian.
The guard behind Nikko smacked the back of his head as soon as Dog disappeared behind a steel door, then moved around to the front of him and dropped to a squat. Nikko's eyes lifted and they stared at one another until a sharp whistle blew across the yard. The guard then jerked his chin while wrapping a hand around the back of Nikko's arm and dragged him back to his feet.