Mountain Savage, page 1
Mountain Savage
Winter Sloane
Aria King
Contents
Copyright
Mountain Savage
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
About the Authors
Stolen Melody by Winter Sloane
Copyright
Mountain Savage © 2020 by Winter Sloane and Aria King
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All rights reserved: No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
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Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
Mountain Savage
Ryder
My mountain. My rules. I’ve lived out here on my own for years, minding my own business. When trespassers kill my rescue dog for kicks, they painted a target on their backs. They leave me breadcrumbs to follow. They lead me to a prize beyond my wildest dreams.
A curvy goddess. Bound, innocent, and dressed in white—Lexi reminds me of an innocent lamb being led to the slaughter. But this little lamb has claws. I can’t let Lexi go, not after she becomes a witness to a crime. I’m keeping her and making her mine.
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Lexi
I still can’t believe my brother sold me to two strangers to pay off his debts. I know it’s the end for me. We’re deep in the mountains. No one will save me. Then he arrives, my dark avenger but Ryder’s no white knight.
He’s messed up, dangerous, and his soul is black as tar. I can’t want him but my resolves weakens the more time I spend with him. I begin to imagine myself in his bed. In his home. Maybe it won’t be so bad being his woman.
1
A couple of assholes killed Missy in cold blood and Ryder Cox wanted to murder every single one of them. He knelt in front of Missy’s mangled corpse. He peeled his lips back.
Hatred festered in Ryder’s gut and speared right through his entire body. Missy had been a rescue Pitt bull, the only living soul Ryder permitted to get close to him.
Ryder gripped his favorite handgun. A bullet would be too good for these jokers. Good thing Ryder brought his hunting knife with him.
He tucked the gun away in his belt holster and took out his favorite hunting knife. It shone silver under the moonlight. It looked pristine as fuck but not any longer.
He could see himself creeping up on the killers. Ryder learned to move quietly while living out here in the wild a long time ago. They’d never see him coming.
Ryder would hold them tenderly close, just like a lover, then slide his knife in. He’d gut them from belly to chest, let them bleed out like pigs.
They’d suffer the way Missy did. Ryder used two fingers to shut Missy’s clouded blue eyes. Ryder ran his fingers one last time over her white—now nearly crimson fur. Ryder showed her affection he seldom gave other humans.
Ryder saw himself walking up to her cage in that run-down shelter a year ago. She’d cowered from him at first, then tried to bite his fingers off. Missy only warmed up to him much later on. She’d always jumped on him first thing in the morning and slobber all over his face.
He shook his head.
No time to be sentimental.
“You’ve been a good dog. The best,” he told the corpse.
Ryder would dig a hole in the back of his cabin and bury her later.
Now, he had some hunting to do.
Rising to his feet, he looked for footprints on the ground.
Evidence.
Didn’t these trespassers see the signs he painstakingly put up all over his property?
He doubted it. These losers probably chose to ignore the signs, which made them fair game.
Ryder lived up here in the mountains, a good distance from the town for a reason. It was to keep his sanity intact. Everyone was safer that way.
Still, Ryder occasionally bumped into people. It was inevitable, he supposed. Locals were wise enough to keep off his land. These had to be tourists then.
He didn’t need to search long. Ryder spotted a discarded cigarette stub next to a fallen tree branch. A crushed and empty cigarette box lay further down the path.
He knelt, studying the box. Ryder frowned when he caught sight of something else. Ryder lifted long strands of red hair and put them to his nose. Smelled like floral shampoo.
He found a sneaker next, one that used to be white. Now it was streaked with dirt and blood. Ryder furrowed his brows.
He didn’t know what the hell was going on in his woods anymore but he was straight-up pissed. No one came to his damn mountain and thought they could get away with anything—even murder.
Ryder looked up and saw the sun was beginning to set. Ryder continued tracking his prey. He didn’t need a flashlight. Ryder might not be able to see in the dark but he knew these woods like the back of his hand.
Up ahead of him, he spotted smoke rising from a cluster of trees.
“Bingo,” he whispered to himself.
He gripped the knife in his hand, eager to finish the job. The kill would be messy but it would be worth it.
His blood ran hot in his veins.
His heart raced. Every line in his body tensed up. He could see them between two aged ash trees. The interlopers. The prospect of violence always excited him.
“Bring the fat bitch here,” said a drunk voice.
A hoarse scream punched through the mountain air. Ryder froze in his tracks. Ryder’s mind transported him to the locked doors of his childhood, of him hiding behind a thin piece of wood.
A door.
His mother shoved him in a tiny closet while he helplessly watched his old man beat her to a pulp.
Back then, he’d been helpless, unable to do anything but watch. Things were different now.
He walked closer to their campsite, his vision a red and blurry haze. Rage reared up inside of him like a monstrous beast. Two men in their forties sat on a log. They were drinking beers.
Their bellies were practically hanging out of their pants. There was something white and bloody curled up at their feet. Ryder couldn’t see the woman properly, but he glimpsed her tangled red hair.
He remembered how soft the red strands felt on his rough and callused fingers. It was like touching silk.
“Hey, Ted. Are you going to finally tell me how you came by our prize?” one of the men asked.
They could only mean the woman. Ryder clenched his jaw, already imagining himself getting creative with these scum.
“Her stupid junkie brother owed me fifteen grand. Fucker asked if he could pay off his debts with his virgin sister.” Ted clapped his hands together. “What an idiot.”
“A virgin? Are you sure about that? The slut can’t be pure if her brother’s a junkie.”
Ryder could imagine the asshole licking his lips. He stayed where he was, knowing he needed to hear more.
Were these two losers the ones who killed Missy?
He noticed the splotches of red on their vests. An excessive amount. Missy’s blood.
Then there was the girl.
Woman, he corrected.
Ryder had no idea what to do with her.
At that moment, the bundle in white twisted her neck and seemed to look right at him. Soft brown eyes, full of fear met his. Her skin appeared bone-white under the moonlight.
She couldn’t speak, not with her underwear stuffed into her mouth but he could imagine her saying two words to him.
Help me.
That moment changed Ryder forever. He lost Missy, but he’d gain something else in return. Want surged through him like a ferocious storm, a sickness.
The longer he stared at her, the more he found her beautiful. She looked like a trussed up goddess with those ropes cutting across her arms, her curves. That wasn’t right.
No woman could stomach him before but maybe she could. Women took one look at him and ran but this one was different. She was his, even though she didn’t know it yet.
“Her brother said she was. Don’t know if it’s true,” Ted paused, looking troubled. “Say, Buddy, do you think that ugly animal we killed was a stray?”
“Seemed like it. It had no collar. I’m going to take a piss. Since the bitch’s your property, you break her in first.”
Buddy stood, kicked the bound woman, then sauntered right to where Ryder was. The prick didn’t even notice him standing there.
Ryder clamped his hand over Buddy’s mouth. Buddy struggled, tried to fight him off but he was too slow. Ryder hardly felt Buddy’s jabs and kicks.
Ryder raised his knife and plunged it into Buddy’s neck, right over his pulse point. Blood splattered all over his face, his clothes. It felt like baptism, truth be told.
Ryder couldn’t take his time killing his asshole off, not without aler
What a pathetic excuse of a man.
Ryder left his hiding spot. The nameless red-haired beauty and his soon-to-be captive finally spotted him. She widened her big brown eyes. Ted stood in front of her, already unbuckling his belt.
“This is going to be fun. You ever been with a real man before?” Ted asked.
Ted didn’t even notice him until Ryder was a foot from him.
“What the hell are you staring at?” Ted demanded, looking over his shoulder.
Ted looked ridiculous with his pants undone and his tiny dick hanging out.
Shock didn’t even register on Ted’s face. Ryder plunged his knife into Ted’s left eye socket. Ted’s hands flew to his face.
Ryder was on him like a beast. The knife descended over and over again. His arm started to ache. Ted simply slumped to the ground after it was done.
Ryder kicked at the corpse on the ground. Ted looked unrecognizable now. Ryder snuck a look at the woman.
She looked horrified and yet, Ryder thought he glimpsed grim satisfaction in her face. She was enjoying the show he put out for her. That only made him want her even more.
“That’s for Missy and her,” he said to the dead man.
He kicked the corpse and looked at the woman again.
Ryder chuckled softly. She was doing her best to get away from him. With her wrists and ankles still bound, she crawled on her belly like a snake. A coward would’ve lain there awaiting her fate but she didn’t.
She was different.
Ryder ran his free hand through his hair.
She was going to be a lot of work and he knew it. Ryder reached her in a few seconds and hunkered down in front of her.
“Hey, the killing’s over. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Ryder pushed aside the loose strands of hair that had fallen across her face. She looked at him, disbelief clearly writ in her eyes.
“I’m going to take your gag off. Don’t bite me,” he warned. “Nod if you understand.”
She did. Ryder pulled out the gag. She reared up, tried to bite off his fingers but he quickly pulled them away.
“Listen to me. I’m not your enemy,” he told her.
He wondered if she believed him.
Could she hear the lie in his words?
Ryder was no one’s savior. He had no intention of ever letting her go, not after she’d seen him kill Ted and Buddy.
2
Lexi Hill stared at the killer, speechless.
Did he expect her to believe a single word he said?
Lexi kept hoping this was some kind of nightmare she could wake up from but she knew it wasn’t. The pain was real enough. The coarse ropes Ted and Buddy used to restrain her started to cut into her wrists and ankles.
She gritted her teeth, ignored the pain because she had a bigger problem at hand.
The psychotic stranger simply watched her, not saying anything else. He scared her shitless.
He must be six-foot-seven and every inch of him was made up of solid muscle.
Under different circumstances, Lexi would’ve called him handsome, but in a rough kind of way.
He wore a flannel shirt, worn jeans, and boots. Lexi couldn’t tell what color his shirt originally was because there were dark crimson spots over it. She shivered involuntarily.
Blood covered him from head to toe, even his face, his beard, and his dark hair.
His forest green eyes glittered oddly under the moonlight. They appeared almost black. The expression on his face was hard to read.
She never thought a human could move that inhumanly fast or act so brutally. Well, that wasn’t completely true.
Just hours ago, she’d lost faith in her brother, in humanity. She still had on the cheap white dress her brother made her wear for the exchange. Lying there with her cheek pressed against the dirt, Lexi thought tonight was her last one on earth.
Hell, she even prayed for a quick death. Lexi silently hoped Ted and Buddy would get tired of her quickly. The odds were stacked against her and yet she was still breathing.
Lexi was still in one piece.
“Who are you?” She asked.
She flinched when he pulled out his hunting knife but he only used it to cut off the ropes binding her limbs.
“Ryder,” he said.
Ryder still hadn’t taken his gaze off her and it was a little unnerving.
“I’m Lexi,” she whispered.
Lexi slowly stretched her limbs and sat up. She knew Ryder watching her. She told herself not to look at the dead body but she couldn’t help it.
She glanced at the mangled mess that was Ted’s corpse and stifled a scream. Ted no longer resembled a human being.
“W-what happened to Buddy?” She had to ask.
Fear settled in the pit of her belly. This man was capable of monstrous deeds. What rattled her, even more, was the second emotion took root in her insides.
Petty satisfaction.
No one ever came to her defense before. Ryder was the first one. Lexi had been picked on her entire life for her size and for being dirt poor. Over the years, she learned to ignore the taunts and the insults people slung at her.
What was this feeling suffusing her abused limbs and her tired body?
Gratefulness?
Lexi never thought Prince Charming would come for her—except it was wrong to think of Ryder as her savior.
Ted and Buddy deserved what they got. They thought they could drag her out here and get away with anything.
Lexi knew men like Ted and Buddy. She worked at a seedy bar before. Assholes like them only saw a nobody like her as a disposable toy.
Ted and Buddy were loaded, well connected. Those were the two adjectives her brother Cal used to describe them.
“Dead. Wished I killed him slower,” Ryder said.
Ryder wiped the blood off his knife using the hem of his shirt. He sounded so matter-of-fact like killing didn’t matter to him.
“You mean it,” she whispered.
Ryder sheathed his blade.
Relief washed over her. She was beginning to think he was going to use that knife on her next.
He wasn’t going to hurt her. Irrational logic.
Still, why would Ryder go through the trouble of saving her if he wanted her dead?
Did he want to keep her alive for another sinister purpose? A shiver crept down her spine.
“You liked it when I was working on him,” Ryder said.
He tipped her chin using his bloodstained fingers. The smell of copper nauseated her slightly, reminded her this was a man she couldn’t lie to. Lexi had a feeling Ryder would be able to see right through her.
“Admit it, Lexi,” he said softly.
Lexi clenched her fists on her lap. Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. She didn’t know why she was crying, why she allowed this stranger to see her at her most vulnerable.
Lexi hadn’t cried since she was 12. That had been ten years ago.
It was too much. To keep her sanity intact, she held all her emotions in—her brother’s awful betrayal, Buddy, and Ted’s abuse.
All three men stopped seeing her as a human being and treated her like a disposable object. Lexi bleakly had to accept her fate. She tried to be strong. Lexi lied to herself that she’d be somehow able to live through this.
Then Ryder came along.
Ryder tugged her close. Lexi didn’t know what possessed her to lean against him. She felt tiny against him. Ryder wrapped his steel-hard arms around her and simply held her.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I hate it when women cry.”
She rubbed at her eyes, raising her head to look at him. “You’ve been around plenty of weeping women?”
“Just my mother,” he answered in a clipped tone.
Oh, God.
What was happening?
